There was some light booing on the first night of English National Opera’s The Elixir of Love, but it was the good kind – the friendly kind, aimed not at the baritone Dan D’Souza but his character, the caddish charmer Belcore. In other words, it was what opera snobs call ‘pantomime booing’, and which, as a peculiarly British phenomenon, they affect to deplore. If it happened in Munich or Milan they’d brandish it as evidence of an advanced opera-going culture – proof that an audience has been so completely transported by a performance that they’re reluctant to step out of its world. But any singer who’s remotely familiar with British theatrical traditions knows that it’s a compliment, and D’Souza beamed. It had been a thoroughly good-natured evening all round.
Dunking on The Elixir of Love would be like slapping a puppy
Which was as it should be, because The Elixir of Love is pure operatic romcom.

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