It’s that moment when the guilty hand can no longer be kept from the opera chocolate box. Under lockdown the moral imperative has been to head to the health-grain cupboard of Wagner, down Janacek purgatives, or cleanse the mind of distracting trivia with dissonant Schoenberg. All intellectually commendable.

A voyage up the Amazon charms at the Met
Florencia en el Amazonas proved a visual treat and the English National Opera was on manoeuvres in Manhattan.