Mr. Monday and other tales of Jewish Amsterdam

AT THE OPERA

n Saturday night the people from the Jewish district visit other parts of town.

A week of hard work has ended, the day of rest has been enjoyed, now it is time for the evening out. They stroll to Carre, the opera-house, and squeeze together in the upper gallery. Let the rich folks down below flaunt themselves in their expensive seats. Those who have come for art solely, enjoy two song festivals for half price.

First there is the official song festival, the one on the stage. The second, unofficial one takes place during the intermission. Nobody in the upper tiers goes to the coffee-room, intermission or not, their song festival continues all the same. They break into arias with long drawn-out resonant tones.

Their relatives will say of them later "He has sung in Carre..." and then add sarcastically ..." during the Intermission."

The connoisseurs in their cheap seats listen to them with affection and critical attention. Rendering and diction are a matter of secondary importance to them, they do not care whether the chanted text tallies with the official libretto. For them only the melody and the vocal power counts.