But something strange happened after the first few minutes. He WAS Tannhauser. I was able to transcend his warthog look (sorry, but it's my blog) and really believe in him. In fact he was wonderful. But there was a problem. For the whole of the first act the music blasted at us at high volume, and it really spoiled the effect. In the first interval I asked everone I knew - Frances and Christine, fellow ushers who were sitting next to me, Nik, my boss at CAB, Paul, another usher and his wife Margaret, and of course Richard. Even Caroline and Patrick were there. All agreed it was far too loud, and nobody was going to do anything about it. These people built empires, or their forebears did. What the? In the end I went to the desk and saw the projectionist. "Everyone is saying it's much too loud," I told him. "Is there any chance of turning it down?" "Sure", he said casually. "I'll do it when I go back up." And he did. And everyone said that was much better, phew, what a relief. Why does nobody speak out any more?
Christine and Frances left after the second interval, and Richard came to join me. I had told him I couldn't sit beside him earlier because I can't bear to be distracted during Wagner, and I laughed at how neurotic that sounded. But I could see that he was feeling what I was feeling. Several times he put both hands on his head, once he covered his eyes, and a few time he used his hands to conduct a little before realising and stopping. At the end he didn't stir for several minutes. It was so wonderful to share an experience like that with someone as moved as me. And then to talk about it afterwards. I left the cinema on Cloud 9, and I'm still there, the music running through my head even in my dreams. I've decided now that I'm going to go to Bayreuth. Anna Netrebko in Lohengrin in 2018, the year I'll be 70. Surely both of those things are enough reason to splash out and treat myself to the ultimate luxury. Or is this really Cloud Cuckooland?
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