A little about opera.
In the early and mid-70s, opera theaters often put operas such as "A Tale of a Real Man", the opera "Mother", the ballet "Angara". When I was younger, I preferred the classics.
This story took place in 1974 in the glorious city of Kharkiv. We took our eighth grade to watch this very "Mother" in the production of the local opera theater. I can’t say I was incredibly happy to see this action. But under the fear of the two in the literature quarter had to go.
Come, sit down, turn off the lights, the show begins. Nothing interesting I remembered, not even the opera itself. But it was very well remembered to visit the DND Support Point, located next to the theater. What have I forgotten there? Not alone, but with the company. For what? The case was so.
While the opera was going, the boys and I quietly chatted anecdotes and did not disturb anyone. Then break and cake with lemonade.
The next action. Shut down the light. Anxious music. The curtain opens, on the side of the scene a door, in the middle a simple wooden kitchen table, the table is ordinary, on it sits Paul, dressed in a shirt, boots and a pinjack. There is a huge book on the table, a grand bucket. Paul whispers something and leads his finger on the book, like a Jew on the Talmud, such as studying science, engaged in self-education. Through the doors pass workers-peasants in pants and shirts tied by a thin belt and workers-peasants in shirts and long sweaters. They become a half-circle behind Paul, the most important comes forward, putting his hand on Paul’s shoulder and a beautiful, powerful baryton:
and Paweel! I have yours! The Jeandarms have gone on!!! to
The chorus follows:
“Your mother, your mother, the gendarmes have led.
It was the straw that broke the back of the camel. It should also be understood that adolescents of the transitional age look, almost without brakes. I answered the first word with a loud voice:
To have yours.
Immediately there were followers. From the other ends of the room was heard:
Your mother...
The horse rose terribly. I think, even the teacher. The show stopped. But I was taken out and a few more, so to say, “volunteer singers-assistants.” We were taken to this very “point of reference.” There is a lieutenant of the brave Soviet militia. They put us in front of him.
So what happened?
What did we do? You will think, just laughed. Cho, you can’t laugh anymore.
The word, for the word, had to lose this scene in the face. I would say without boasting, it was no worse than in the theatre. Most importantly, the audience was delighted. The laughter began with the first replica and did not shut down until the end of our small performance. The lieutenant, wiping his tears, advised him to enter the circus school.