The long low subway corridors that lead from 7th Ave to 8th, a long block underground, are full of strange sounds, like Prospero’s isle, and music. Drumming, mostly, but Pan pipes, and jazz. Not until last night – to my knowledge, anyway – opera. To my amazement I heard in the distance, a quarter of a mile away, the strains of ‘La Donna e Mobile,’ sung with skill and gusto. Turned out there were 4 singers taking turns, part of an Opera Collective, or indeed The Opera Collective. Fine singers all. The sweetest part of it, as they battled the massive thunder of subway trains all around us, arriving and departing and echoing in the tiled corridors, was a young black guy who stood absolutely enraptured, listening open-mouthed as singer after singer delivered party pieces. I stood beside him as each one sang, until the tenor’s turn came around and he delivered ‘Della Sua Pace,’ a perfect conclusion to my subway listening evening.
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