“Daddy, when can we go singing again? This partial lockdown is taking way too long,” Pangzi said. That’s my cue to visit Opera Gallery.
“We can’t go karaoke, but I can take you to the opera,” I lied.
“You mean we can fly to Sydney now?” Pangzi asked expectantly.
“Not that far. We go Ion.”
“There’s an opera house in town?”
“Well, there’s the Opera Gallery.”
“For viewing opera?”
“You shall see,” I said. Before he asked anymore questions I pulled him out of the house, and we headed down to Orchard Road.
I’ve always been curious about Opera Gallery, which has a presence in many cities around the world including London and Dubai. With nowhere else to go amidst the coronavirus situation, this seemed a good time for a visit to the Singapore stop.
“Oh, Opera Gallery is a contemporary art museum. Look at the horse… it’s jumping out of the painting!” Pangzi exclaimed.
”Yes, that’s post-modernism for you,” I commented, glad that all these years of museum hopping had not been lost on him.
“This is nice… but where’s the music?”
“Ermmm, did I say there’s real opera? Opera Gallery is just the name of the place.”
“Daddy, you trick me again. I’m reporting you to the police!”
“Child abuse! You can’t always force me to go see art with you. There’s a policeman in the corner. I’m going to talk to him now.”
“Haha, you go try. He’s just a display piece.”
Pangzi didn’t believe me at first but when he went face to face with the lifelike art installation, he was both disgusted and fascinated.
The quality of the art at Opera Gallery did not disappoint. I wondered why it took a pandemic for us to check it out.
“I don’t care. You promised me singing. Sing for me!” he insisted.
“What? Sing where?” I gasped.
“Yes, now. Nobody else here. This is your stage.”
“Who’s abusing who?”
I won’t go into detail on what happened next, but suffice to say we won’t be welcomed back to Opera Gallery anytime soon.
We were here: