"We usually have a competition," Charles said, "who can find the youngest person."
We were walking through the lobby of the Broward Center for the Performing Arts, about a half hour before the production of The Tales of Hoffmann. I spotted a pre-teen girl in a hat, walking with her mother and her younger brother. "Poor kids," said Charles.
We headed to our seats "up in the gods," as the English say. "Au paradis," said Claudine. The couple sitting next to me had driven down from Jupiter for a seat in paradise. Unlike us, they didn't have binoculars.
"You can see the orchestra members texting when they're not playing," Charles noted at the first intermission.
At the second intermission I went out and found the three youngest ushers: two seniors and a sophomore from Fort Lauderdale High School. They were all in theater, and volunteers at the center on Thursday nights. At school they were preparing a production of Guys & Dolls; at the center they were looking forward to West Side Story.
At the end of the performance, the singers took their bows on stage while many people in the audience headed for the exits. The applause was far from rousing. "Americans don't clap at opera," said Charles. "It was the same in San Francisco."
In the parking garage we settled comfortably into Charles' Lexus, four hours after we had left it. "Too bad you can't watch opera from your car," Charles said.
Drive-in opera. It might be just the thing to attract the young.
