Repose

One evening, twenty- seven years ago, my father took my brother to watch a movie by the name Hercules. As a baby, Mathew hated cinema halls and invariably one of my parents had to stand outside the hall holding him, as he threatened to bring down its walls. So this was a fresh attempt to make his peace with the silver screen. Appa told him the story of Hercules in all detail and by the time they reached the cinema, Mathew seemed for the first time positively inclined to the general idea of cinema. Then the movie started. There were bangs and explosions and robots and aliens filled the screen. Before five minutes, the father and the son were out in the street, pondering on the mysterious transformations that mythology acquires.

I felt much the same sitting at the Theatro Communale in Ferrara yesterday. The notice board announced Giulio Cesare and in my naivety I thought of Shakespeare alone. So what if it is in Italian, as long as they say "Friends, Romans, countrymen.."So I was in a state of shock when the orchestra started and actors appeared on screen all dressed up in perfect colonial attire and singing in Italian.

The Theatro Communal in Ferrara is an opera house of the late eighteenth century. It has undergone periodic reconstructions and is at present an auditorium of five tiers and can seat 890 people. It is a three sided arena with boxes decorated with red drapes and delicate patterns. The ceiling depicts scenes from the life of Julius Caesar. The ambiance was such that it was a pity that the ladies were not dressed in gowns nor the men in tailcoats. I suppose the Theatro Communale was an exclusive space to some degree. But today it is more inclusive with regular shows and prices that are more or less affordable to the European audience.

As the performance progressed my shock was to an extent abated. It had much to do with the energy and passion of the artists themselves. I suppose performed in earnest, art, even the most alien forms, communicate to you at some level. It was much later that we found out that the charming conductor of the orchestra was the director of the opera Ottavio Dantone and we were witnessing what was a great master piece of Baroque opera performed in tune to George Handel's music and represented a return of Byzantine academy! (Not that any of these is making any sense to me!)

Ferrara comes alive on weekends. Fairs spring up in the cathedral square and the municipal square. Quaint white tents are set up for craft items in wood, natural produces and local cuisine. Tourism is in full swing with attentive little groups gathered around tour guides pointing out to them the edifice and the statuettes of the Basilica Cattedrale di San Giorgio. People are out on the streets with families on bicycles and by foot enjoying the sun and with a cold beer in the many outside parlours.

Narrow old streets branch out from the historical center and there you stumble upon occasional surprises. A cheap bar,a pizza place that serves slices of heaven topped with melted cheese. And just at the street around the corner a movie house lodged in a dilapidated old building. Free movies every Thursday, special discount for students... If I can watch an Italian opera, can I not enjoy an Italian movie sans subtitles?

There is much outside the theater and the cinema also. Each day on my way to the university and back I pass by a street guitarist. We have seen each other so often that now he knows me by face. On evenings of gentle downpour when the pebble stone streets glisten in the last light of the day, notes of Spanish guitar fills the air. And during those ten minutes, I know for sure that nothing ever could go wrong.