Walk like an Egyptian (cue the priestesses . . . )

My high school friend Christy studied and coached with Lazlo Halasz the famous opera conductor who started the New York City Opera. He was an old man when she studied with him but he still conducted for the Nassau Lyric Opera out on the Island where he lived.

One time, Nassau Lyric Opera put on a performance of Verdi's Aida and somehow Christy and I ended up as supers. We were priestesses. We had our sandals, white 1930s-style sheathes with colorful Egyptian-style collar and belt. We blackened our eyes in exotic lines, darkened our brows, reddened our lips andwere given props to carry. Since there were 11 of us and I was the tallest (we were a short bunch!) I made up the rear. There were only 10 gold painted snake props so I, being at the end, was given some elaborate figure which not only was wood, but heavy and bulky. I was not allowed to rest it against my shoulder. We didn't have a rehearsal, but were given directions on what to do, were cued and pushed out on stage.We did our procession and stood there for the rest of the scene. My arms were burning.

Later on, Christy and I were each given a huge palm leaf fan on a long pole. We were shoved out on stage and had to fan Amneris during a pivotal scene. We never did get in sync and we almost dropped our fans more than once. They weighed a ton.

Afterwards, since Christy was a friend of the Aida's son (who was also an opera singer) we went to the after-performance party at the soprano's house. It was a lot of fun. The house was a glorious, garish display of wealth and lack of taste, indoor-outdoor curtains and faux Louis furniture, crystal and 1980s conspicuous consumption.  I had never seen anything like it. They also balked at paying us our $10.

Aida is one opera I can't sit through in performance. I tried once at the Met with Placido Domingo as Ramades even, but left after Act 1. I can listen to recordings and could sit through a semi staged or concert version but a fully-staged performance. I have no idea why. My dad, who loved Aida, got to see it every time it was on my mom's and my subscription.