A very pretentious urbanite enters with his cohort and looks with great disdain at the country folk who are visiting the city.
The country lead, for his part, is full of country kindness, and realizing how much his city part is uncomfortable, pours on the kindness with ever greater flourish. The result is a song for the ages - the city dweller uses Vivaldi's winter to decry country folk and then finishes off with a spoof on the well-travelled aria from the Barber of Seville. This time, however, instead of "Figaro", he chants "A cigarrrrr!" ("a cigar for me, no cigar for you, a cigar, a what? Yes, you get the butt!" A cigarrrr!").
It is the country visitor who has the last laugh, however, mentioning certain gastronomic delights that he knows are horrifying to the urbanite. And that, my friend, is the end of the urbanite!
Opera Meets its Match
Trump L'oeil recasts the entire political landscape as a musical duel between country and city - and opera and bluegrass stand in their roles
12/31/18, 10:00 PM