The Pinoy opera connoisseur

The Good Life with Eli F.J. Tajanlangit

Before anything else, a declaration: All comparisons, especially between cultures, are unproductive and odious. If I lapse into comparisons here, it is not to declare one is good over the other, it is simply to point out what makes each one of us different and unique. I’ve seen several international shows at the Cultural Center of the Philippines, the last one being Phantom of the Opera last weekend, and in my mind, there really is an emerging pattern of the Pinoy theatre goer that makes him unique.

The American theatre goer for example, goes to these shows all dressed up, oftentimes too formally and stiff, mink coats, black ties and all.

The Pinoy, on the other hand, comes in smart casual – long sleeves and slacks, black dresses and pashminas but in very comfy clothes.

It was fun watching people huddle at the grand lobby of the CCP, with its grand chandeliers and massive staircases, waiting for the show in their decent, but very comfortable getups. There were the usual children romping around the carpeted halls, prettily but comfortably dressed too, a sight I didn’t see abroad. There were some people in sneakers, but leather, at least.

I recall how the perfumed crowd in the US would huddle on one side of the theatre before the show, taking aperitifs, and talking mutedly.

Last Saturday, we all gathered on the side of the CCP lobby eating excitedly – chips and cracklings, chunky sandwiches, plates of pastas and sodas in cans.  Occasionally, one of the production hands would pass, selling souvenirs from the show: CDs and copies of the program, mask replicas. “Magkano ang program? (How much is a copy of the program)?” “P500 lang po…(Just P500 apiece).” “Ay, hwag na lang, mahaaaal! (No, I’m not buying. It’s expensive.)” Laughter.

I can’t recall seeing a souvenir shop in the theatres abroad, well, at least not in the foyer. Here, it was one of the most crowded sections of the lobby, with people taking out all the sizes of T-shirts and trying them on examining the little toys and knick knacks the way we usually do in those tianggues.

All over the place, people were having their photos taken: in front of the billboards and chandeliers, in front of the ticketron and stairs, even with the lobby crew, who were in black garb with Phantom prints.

Inside the theatre, there were more picture-picture sessions: in front of the stage, on their seats. I saw many people with tablet computers immediately uploading these photos. I can imagine the Facebook walls posts: Waiting for Phantom. At the CCP, watching Phantom. So excited!!!

I can also imagine the reactions: Likey-likey!!! Super-like. Inggit ako…(I’m jealous). Why didn’t you wait for me?

Just when the play was about to start, there was the unmistakable rustle of plastics and I turned around to see three people on the row in my back, hurriedly hiding their bags of souvenirs. More rustling in front of me: mother snatching a pack of Cheetos from her child.

Silence fell as the play started, the entire CCP obviously engaged, in rapt attention. Loud gasps accompany the rise of the chandelier. Laughter accompanied the revised line from the old opera house owner: “If you need me, I’ll be in Bo.Ra.Cay!” And all throughout, one can say the Pinoy truly enjoyed the play. Spontaneous applause broke from time to time, especially in the magical points of the show: the ride to the labyrinth, the rendition of the popular songs. And when it all ended, the crowd clapped lustily, reserving the standing ovation when the Phantom takes his bow – all indicative of the fact that the Pinoy, no matter how he dresses and comports himself, knows his music and appreciates art and culture in his own unique way.*

For feedback, go to www.lifestylesbacolod.com, check Bacolod Lifestyles on Facebook and follow @bacolodtweets on Twitter

back to top