Michael White on country opera: “not always comfortable, but curiously English.”
London — In an episode of season four of “Downton Abbey,” the earl of Grantham puts on an evening of entertainment by the opera star Dame Nellie Melba (played by another operatic dame, Kiri Te Kanawa) but clearly doesn’t think too well of singers, even ones with titles. There is a debate about whether she should dine with the family or if a meal-tray should be sent wherever her uncertain social status merits.
Generally, though, people with grand houses and estates have warmed to the idea of opera on their premises. Especially now in Britain, where it seems that almost every owner of a country pile with a few acres fills them in the summer months with Magic Flutes and Marriages of Figaro.
Back in “Downton” days — the fourth season is set in the early 1920s — attending such performances would have required an invitation. Now they tend to be commercial ventures: Anyone who can afford the tickets and a decent meal (Champagne picnics in the interval are an essential part of the experience) can attend. But the ideal is still a sense of being welcomed to a private party on a grand estate, and there is usually a dress code of black tie and evening gowns.
The so-called fête champêtre aspect does not always draw good press, however. Such offerings are indulgent and expensive, critics say, with bankers and other stalwarts of the country-opera scene displaying their wealth and adding to the exclusive image of an art form that in other contexts struggles to project open access. Champions of opera know it can be hard to argue for state financing only to be accused of using taxpayer money to support Champagne lifestyles.
London — In an episode of season four of “Downton Abbey,” the earl of Grantham puts on an evening of entertainment by the opera star Dame Nellie Melba (played by another operatic dame, Kiri Te Kanawa) but clearly doesn’t think too well of singers, even ones with titles. There is a debate about whether she should dine with the family or if a meal-tray should be sent wherever her uncertain social status merits.
Generally, though, people with grand houses and estates have warmed to the idea of opera on their premises. Especially now in Britain, where it seems that almost every owner of a country pile with a few acres fills them in the summer months with Magic Flutes and Marriages of Figaro.
Back in “Downton” days — the fourth season is set in the early 1920s — attending such performances would have required an invitation. Now they tend to be commercial ventures: Anyone who can afford the tickets and a decent meal (Champagne picnics in the interval are an essential part of the experience) can attend. But the ideal is still a sense of being welcomed to a private party on a grand estate, and there is usually a dress code of black tie and evening gowns.
The so-called fête champêtre aspect does not always draw good press, however. Such offerings are indulgent and expensive, critics say, with bankers and other stalwarts of the country-opera scene displaying their wealth and adding to the exclusive image of an art form that in other contexts struggles to project open access. Champions of opera know it can be hard to argue for state financing only to be accused of using taxpayer money to support Champagne lifestyles.