Singing, Dancing, Cross-dressing...

 Big A says:

Who knew cross-dressing was going to be the theme of this weekend.

(We chased Friday’s Twelfth Night with Beethoven’s Fidelio on Sunday.)

Me: (And yes, everything is about me, and I’ve asked some version of this question before. But I think about this a lot as a non U.S. citizen. Especially these days.)

If I were a political prisoner, you'd dress up as a woman to come rescue me, right?

 

Big A: (Knows I know his answer.)

Yes. But let’s make sure you don’t break the law, don’t get framed, and that we use our every penny to hire the best lawyer so you don’t have to go to prison in the first place. 

 

(Fidelio was powerful—dark and bleak, with none of the frilly, frivolousness I usually love about Western opera at all. The level of iconoclastic authority-questioning was particularly surprising—and extra brave given that Beethoven must have depended on royal patronage.)

_