I want to call it right now: I OFFICIALLY SAID IT BEFORE THE NEW YORK TIMES. If you will allow me to paraphrase, I first said that Patricia Racette is a powerhouse with a performance not to be missed as Cio-Cio-San last season!!!!!!! Get with the program, professional critics!!! Dare I say "Butterfly of the 21st Century"???? Oh yes, I dare. Scream at me all you want, you'll find that it's the truth.
I knew this performance was extra special when I started tearing up at Butterfly's Entrance. I always forget how beautiful Butterfly is until I experience it again. I heard her coming over the hill and I nearly broke my mother's ribs I nudged her so hard. "That's her! That's Patricia Racette!" What a nerd I am. Trust me, though, if you had been there for her "Un Bel Di" you would have cried as hard, too.
Can you not get me started on how realistic her portrayal is? I'm morphing into complete teenager mode. Ready for this? Patricia Racette's Butterfly is just so uber realistic that I can't even talk about it without have spastic convulsions. Even the coldest of hearts melts for Joe-Shmoe's Cio-Cio-san, so can you even imagine what the audience was like during the final scenes of Racette's Butterfly? I, at least, was a complete mess. During the curtain calls, in between clapping like a crazy person, I was trying to make sure my eyeliner wasn't running so as to look presentable when I met Patricia.
Oops! I gave it away! (Just in case the picture of the Green Room in the last post and of the playbill in this one didn't give you a hint.)
I'll start by saying that I am the worst at meeting famous people. I need to remember that these people are human beings too! What's wrong with me?????
Next I will tell you a little side story: In between saying "I can't do this" and hyperventilating I hear a group of men approaching the Green Room. My mom, who is standing outside the room, shoots glances at me and gestures like I know Sign Language. My heart is pounding as I see PATRICK SUMMERS, DWAYNE CROFT, AND MARCELLO GIORDANI WALK BY THE ROOM. Literally 5 feet from where I was standing. I had to hold onto the table while my aunts just laughed at me. I ran to the door to watch them walk away (don't call me a stalker, you know you would have done the same thing!), but I couldn't say anything.
After having sufficiently recovered from that, which means I was breathing, Beth Clayton walks in and says "Hi, I'm Beth. Patricia is just getting ready and we can go inside in a minute." She shook all of our hands and was soooo nice! She was so casual, in fact, that I almost forgot that she herself is a well known and extremely talented singer. Then I had to recover from that (does it get easier over time?) in time to walk to Patricia Racette's dressing room.
Once I got there all hell broke loose. I couldn't breathe, much less speak. We're some of the last to greet her, but here's basically how it played out, all casually and pleasantly:
Aunt 1: "Hello Patricia, this is one of your biggest, and youngest, fans."
Me: "Ms. Racette....you were so....you were so great....it was just so amazing... you're so amazing." Hyperventilating, sweating, being overly nervous.
Aunt 2: "She's kind of nervous, but can we get an autograph?"
Patricia Racette: "Sure, of course!"
Mom: "Oh and a picture too!"
Patricia Racette: "Haha, oh great!" Even though she looks fabulous, she wipes her face and shakes out her hair.
After that we took the picture, said about a thousand "thank you"s, and then I stumbled to the car. I flipped out the whole ride home. I ranted about how "great, now she thinks I'm a freaky stalker and that I can't talk. They all think I'm a loser blahblahblah I'm such a creeper." The creeping comes with the package. =) Heehee just kidding.
2 comments:
Nice. But I think when/if you actually meet the ultra-elusive Opera Chic, then truly will you have been not only in the presence of greatness, but also will have snagged the most coveted meet-and-greet in the current operatic world. Seriously, that girl is like Carmen San Diego!
OK, a word to the wise: Make it good.
Many years ago, I spent at least an hour waiting in a cold alley outside of Chicago's Lyric to say something to Luciano Pavarotti (kind of in the same OMG frame of mind you're talking about)... and all I kept thinking about was "make it good... make it simple English so he'll understand..." I get up to within 2 people, and I have no idea what I'm thinking... so it's me.. and what does my mind do? It opens my mouth and I blurt out: "You bring much pleasure!" He looks at me like I'm speaking Greek, which I don't (not really). My friend who is behind me pushes me out of the way after I get my program signed. She says to me: "You bring much pleasure? What the hell was that?" Ihaven't lived it down yet. She won't let me talk any more whenever we see famous stars. "I'll do the talking. Just nod your head and try not to embarrass me," she says.
Like I say, make it good. Make it something you'll want to remember!!
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