On Opera
To the streets, via the Crush Bar
Robert Thicknesse on Opera
An opera critic in lockdown
The critic, like a used-up traveller in ladies’ corsetry in a Fifties film, is enjoying a happy furlough
Wildest dreamland
It’s the perfect medium for the End Times, unequalled in its devotion to doom
Men beware women
How we underestimate the women in Mozart’s Cosi fan tutte
Less austerity, more pizazz
Grand opera was long thought quite dead but is suddenly rearing its shaggy head again
A belly full of agitpropera
Opera really doesn’t need the help of activist directors when it comes to politics — it’s all there already
Schlock of the new
Those in charge are in thrall to vain provocateur directors
Naughty but nice
Every six months or so opera surfaces from its undersea lair, like a Bond villain, to enter public consciousness — generally when it’s been naughty.