Saturday, August 7, 2010


I wish I were a countess,
A-lolling on my bed,
All bedecked with silks and rose petals,
A thousand curls upon my head.

I reckon being a countess would be tops. Even being the hard-done-by one in The Marriage of Figaro. Last week, we went to see the utterly wonderful Neil Armfield production of Figaro for Opera Australia, and the lovely light in the boudoir scene has been haunting me ever since. Do you suppose non-countess types can aspire to such swankily lit dressing rooms?

Images: A countess is ravished in Opera Oz's promo poster; the icy Countess Bismarck would be having none of that, photographed by Cecil Beaton; Countess of Warwick, painted by Sargent, far too proper for a boudoir tryst, me thinks; that Marguerite, Countess of Blessington looks like she'd like a ravish or two.

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