A Sartorial Fright at the Metropolitan Opera Means an Exit at Intermission

Does anyone remember a time when attending the opera meant not merely consuming art but also participating in a cultural ritual? The opera house functioned as a temple of aspiration, elegance, and a shared respect for the extraordinary discipline required to perform such musical sophistication on stage. People attending the opera entered in their finest attire not because of rigid rules, but because the experience demanded reverence. The way patrons dressed made it clear that this mattered. I have been a fan of the opera for many years, making it a tradition for my daughter’s birthday. As the years passed, it was clear that things were changing. I remember my daughter at eight years old seeing a man in jeans and saying to me, “Dad, why would that guy wear jeans?” An eight-year-old could clearly understand the gravitas of the opera, yet grown adults who give the appearance of being self-entitled boors cannot grasp the notion that dressing up is a sign that you have respect for yourself, the people around you, and most important of all, the artists you have paid to see. Late last month we attended the opera, seeing “Madama Butterfly” at the Metropolitan Opera for my birthday, and I had to walk out at intermission. The blur of “athleisure,” hoodies, and distressed denim made me question if I was at the opera or at McDonald’s. I don’t want to sound like a crashing snob, but this seems to me to amount to nothing less than both a decline of collective aspiration and the further decline of the social contract. For dress codes are never just about clothing. They are an indicator of the values a society chooses to elevate. When we abandon the idea of dressing up for something extraordinary, we dilute the very notion that “extraordinary” can exist. I was disgusted by the apparent idiot in the hoodie in front of me and the jackass with running shoes, jeans, and a henley on next to me. I tried desperately to be gracious but this lack of respect I just could not take. I could not subject myself to being amongst this group of philistines and had to leave.I did so for this reason: a performance that took artists decades of mastery to present is now being received by an audience that no longer feels a responsibility to rise to the moment. The opera experience used to be an act of mutual respect, one where performers gave their brilliance and audiences in turn responded with presence, attention and decorum. The artists are still delivering brilliance. So what has caused the audience to change?I wish I had the answer, but I can only assume that partly it is because we are living in a time where we can only think about our own selves. I understand that we should make the opera more accessible to more people because it is such a gift. I do believe a strict dress code should be made evident. I am aware that there will be some reading this who may think this is an overreaction and respond that opera goers should be paying attention to the performers who are on the stage rather than what people are wearing in the stalls. But as patrons of the opera, we have a responsibility to step up and show respect and reverence to not just to the performers but to the tradition of what the opera really is – a cultural experience that demands the best of all of us who choose to participate in it. Until more of us start to see ourselves as stewards of taste and decorum, we have no interest in abiding to that social contract and therefore the cultural experience is devalued. Timothée Chalamet recently caused controversy when he said in an interview, “I don’t want to be working in ballet or opera where it’s like, ‘Hey! Keep this thing alive,’ even though no one cares about this anymore.” But perhaps he was right — the opera is dead.

A Sartorial Fright at the Metropolitan Opera Means an Exit at Intermission

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