The People's House

Considering that one's social graph is not uniformly distributed among the general population, but rather concentrated around a small number of highly-connected nodes, I think it is fairly safe to say that 100% of my readers fall in the lower 99%.  Recent posts on NPR's Deceptive Cadence blog discuss the widespread perception of opera as exclusive to the 1%, the super-rich.  And yet here you've come, my commoners, to where I like to share my thoughts on that very topic.  Responses to the posts ranged from accusations of opera being outdated and out of touch to those blaming Hollywood for the false stereotypes.  Many people pointed to their personally penurious positions and penchants for opera as evidence against the stereotype.  I'll take the argument a step further.  You will find few institutions more egalitarian than the opera house.

Granted, at the major halls, there are seats that sell for several hundred dollars each, and season subscriptions run easily into the thousands.  I recall seeing back in 2010 that by donating about $20,000, I think, to The Metropolitan Opera, one could reserve an early spot in line to buy tickets to attend the new complete Ring Cycle in 2012.  Tickets for the cycle could themselves exceed $3,000.

On the other hand, an upcoming rap concert (not exactly an elitist pastime) in the area offers tickets in the range of $72-$272.  Meanwhile, rush tickets at even the most esteemed opera houses are typically $20 or less while regular seats are usually available in the neighborhood of $30.  Seats under $100 are sometimes more readily available than those above.  Smaller companies can offer rush or regular tickets for as low as $5.  Now opera seems the more economical option.

The cheap seats are not necessarily bad seats, either.  Seats on the floor in front of the orchestra are some of the most expensive, but suffer visual and auditory interference from obstacles between the seats and the stage.  These patrons do, however, get to see and be seen, and among the social elite, this is worth the premium.  Meanwhile, sitting in the sloped balconies, you get a clear line of sight to the stage, resulting in a purer experience.  The cheapest seats are normally in the upper balconies.  This sets you farther from the stage, but in good acoustic shape at most opera halls.  San Francisco occasionally even employs "OperaVision" at select performances which hangs a projection screen high enough to be unobtrusive that shows the stage action and subtitles to further equalize the experience.

The cheapest seats may cost less than one tenth of the price of the most expensive, but certainly do not deliver one tenth the enjoyment.

Furthermore, it is common for opera companies to engage with their public through outdoor showings, public broadcasts, or other kinds of outreach.  They bring culture to more than just their cities' elite.

So here we have an organization in which the rich subsidize the involvement of the rest of us, and no one is forcing them.  They do it willingly and eagerly at a rate that their beloved free market dictates.  It gets better.  Ticket receipts don't begin to cover the costs of each performance, but further contributions from businesses and wealthy individuals fill the gap.  There are no cries of class warfare, no calls for the impoverished to pay their "fair" share.  With this art, everyone wins.

Almost.  Unfortunately and ironically, many of the performers who bring us this art suffer the most loss.  Professional opera singers have trained for no less than eight to ten years, invested hundreds of thousands of dollars, face intense competition, are at the mercy of their physical health, and most are even fluent in Italian, French, and/or German on top of their native English.  Opera performances are scheduled a few days apart to preserve the singers' voices.  If a baseball pitcher tears a ligament, surgery will fix that in time.  If a singer overexerts and damages her voice, the options are far more limited.  And for all this risk, work, and sacrifice, compensation remains paltry to the point that some cannot afford to attend their own performances (if that were physically possible).

So the next time you go to the opera with your $20 rush ticket, remember that some super rich suckers paid for their crummy $300 seats so that you can witness a miracle of human achievement and cooperation unfold before you at a cost that's a fraction of the value you get from it.  No bouncer at the door sends you away for wearing a shirt of the wrong color.  No talentless actor is making millions for standing coolly in front of explosions on a screen.  No one gets into brawls because of the winners or losers because no one wins or loses.  You can appreciate that the opera house is a house of the people.  And for just an evening, life feels fair.