It started with Mad Men on Thursday night, which evoked an office landscape as foreign to me as Fafner’s cave, Brunnhilde’s rock, and the rest of the sites in the Russian Ring at Lincoln Center. Friday night was five hours of Siegfried, the third in the Ring of Valery Gergiev’s distinctive, unsettling, odd production. There was another layer of strangeness when Steed showed up in a horned faux Viking helmet—unusually playful for him.
At intermissions, we collided with the swing dancers letting lose to the sounds of Stompy Jones and the Harlem Renaissance Orchestra at the Midsummer Night Swing stage.
On the walk home, we jostled through the Potter fans circling the block around Barnes and Noble, with just 20 minutes to go before they would have the precious tome.
Today I will pick up my pre-ordered H.P and the Deathly Hallows, and see the gods fall in Goetterdammerung.
It’s quite a little vacation from reality.