At curtain up there is silence. Lines from Beckett’s Waiting for Godot flicker on a backstage screen. We are clearly being told we are all waiting for something. What? Downlighters the size of Saturn rocket launcher nozzles slowly brighten, revealing a stage of tiered steps with occasional barriers, like a yesteryear football stadium stand before compulsory universal seating. Except that there are carpets. Turkish carpets.
The success of the International Opera Awards is intellectual rigour
At the awards ceremony in Munich this year, a jury dug deep into the purpose of opera and its impact on society.
