No soaps, just opera

About twice a year, we treat ourselves to the opera, and find ourselves in the comforting company of other middle-aged (I'm being generous) people.  Sometimes, there might be a few under 40s in the  audience, but always heavily outnumbered by the grey and balding.

So it was a bit of a surprise to reach the auditorium of the glorious Marinsky Theatre in St Petersburg (my 60th birthday treat) and find ourselves surrounded by younger people. 

It had nothing to do with it being a modern opera, as it was tried-and-tested Verdi -  Un Ballo in Maschera.   Enjoying the experience were a large number of well-dressed young Russian men and women, out for an evening of cultural indulgence.

The couple front of us, who looked to be in their early 20s, seemed to have great difficulty keeping their hands off each other. But even they disengaged and gave rapt attention once the curtain went up.

Clearly, operas in St Petersburg attract a much younger crowd that in the UK.  But why?  Are Russian young people more culturally sophisticated? (There’s a value-judgment.)  Or is there a deep seated fear of doing things differently from previous generations (I’m thinking of the appalling treatment of  Pussy Riot)? 

Whatever it is, the future of classical music seems a bit healthier than the UK.    

For Pete's sake

"Roads were not invented for cars."  I've often pondered those words, but never so intently as when waiting by the side of the road in St Petersburg, during a 60th birthday visit to that spectacular city.

St Petersburg might be famed for many things :  golden-domed churches, priceless art collections, the Hermitage.  But it is not famed for courteous motorists. 

I'm guessing, but it must surely  be the case that there are more pedestrians in the city than cars. But there is no comfort in numbers when another battalion (perhaps that should be panzergruppe) of Bavarian driving machines come barrelling along, reckless as to the plight of  poor pedestrians trying to scramble across the road. 

Forget the old Soviet images of smoky, dented Trabants backfiring in grey streets.  St Petersburg is now vibrating to a decidedly Western ethos of bulky 4x4s, driven by confident young men and women in suits and sunglasses.

We learned quickly of the unwritten rule : cars (in this case, it seemed to be mainly black BMWs) can do what they like, oblivious to the presence of anyone too stupid or poor not to be in a vehicle of their own.

I lost count of the times that we waited obediently for the pedestrian green light, only to be nearly run over by a driver jumping red, and usually talking into a mobile at the same time.  They seemed more callous than indifferent to the plight of the car-less, and  gave not a glance as they squealed past. 

The wonder is why pedestrians meekly put up with all if this. Have no lessons been learned since the down-trodden overthrew the aristos nearly 100 years ago?