My brother Jeff, from Australia, and I had just arrived in Milan in the afternoon from a picturesque train trip through the Swiss Alps and the blissful Lake Como. We were getting settled in our comfortable, handy hotel Metropole near the main train station and were planning how to spend the time in Milan while we wait for my son to arrive from Toronto early the next morning. It was a beautiful crisp sunny winter afternoon, so we decided to walk to the Duomo square to people watch and soak up the history. We had both been in the city a few times before, so there was no hurry or excitement, just anticipation for the rich, colorful scenery and interesting architecture around the square and the Galleria shops and gourmet restaurants.
“What do you feel like doing tonight?” asked my brother
“Well, all the times I have been in Milan, I have yet to go to La Scala, the 18th century opera house which is world famous” was my reply
“We will never get tickets for tonight if there is a performance!”
“I live in New York City, we always have day of performance tickets at the box office, usually returns”
“We will be walking past it, let’s inquire what is on and availability”
A short while later we were looking at the poster on the exterior of the building announcing that Daniel Barenboim will be conducting the La Scala orchestra playing Beethoven no. 1 op 15 and Schoenberg Op 5.
We enquired at the main box office “Would there be tickets for tonight (in English!)”
“Go to the side entrance and check at the window” was the reply in broken English.
We exited the grand main lobby and headed to the side of the recently renovated stately building under the columned archways. The door was locked but there was a well dressed white bearded man holding a clipboard milling about.
“Could you let us know how to buy tickets for tonight?”
In broken English “Come back tonight at 6 o’clock”
We then turned to leave to wander about the piazza in the late afternoon sun that was reflecting on the buildings, highlighting the burnt orange colors.
“But first, you have to put your name on my list!” he shouted after us, with an amused smile which I think was reserved for American tourists.
We gave him our name which was assigned number 73, and we headed off to have a coffee in the magnificent Galleria which I think was the prototype for the modern American shopping malls.
We returned at five thirty and tried to make sense of the crowd that had gathered around, like pigeons in Trafalgar Square. There did not seem to be any order or logic to how the process would work. We spoke to a couple of Americans who informed us that all tickets would be five Euros on a first come first serve basis. At six sharp the fun began with the crown waiting in anxious anticipation of their number being called. As more and more people, mostly Italians received a voucher they decided they did not have to listen. They proceeded to chat among themselves to await the commencement of the third process where you are called to the ticket window to receive the actual ticket for the performance.
It seemed like forever for us to wait for our name to be called and we would then stand in line to await our number to be called to approach the ticket window. There is one voucher per seat and each individual has to present himself to the window to get the 5 Euro ticket.
We made it! We then went back to the Galleria to a small restaurant to have dinner before the performance.
La Scala was all that I pictured it would be. Almost round, the interior is lush with gold a red velvet circulating up the 5 tiers of boxes facing the stage. In the middle of the hall is a massive dangling crystal chandelier, which one could not help but think of Phantom of the Opera and the stir it would cause if it came crashing down on the stage.
Of course we were in the top balcony to the side, where they provide overhead handrails above the seats, similar to subway cars. Why? Because, if you want to see the whole orchestra, you need to stand up and lean over the person sitting in front. If you did not hang on to the rail above, you would lose your balance, and it is a long way down!
It was a magnificent evening. Daniel Barenboim played a grand piano, with the top off, while conducting the Beethoven piece. The Schoenberg piece was very dramatic with cymbals, four harps and heavy drums. Thoroughly enjoyable!
It was an unexpected and memorable evening!
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