Month: October 2013
- Sarah & Fabian diva bombing as Rosina and Lindoro from The Barber of Seville
What is Diva Bombing ©???
Imagine a party or corporate event. Not just any party. The guests are chatting and milling about, tapas going down smoothly with Champagne. Then, all of a sudden, an actor arrives and transports you to another city- Seville, Paris, Rome… And you are surrounded in a few moments by comic repartee, theatre and the golden tones of opera all within a comic sketch.
Hijacked by theatre, the room erupts in music, laughter and intrigue. Despite the French, Italian, German or Spanish that is sung, you will definitely understand the story behind the melody as two characters in complete costume play out the events with zest, humour and panache!
We will bring operas most sensational and romantic love stories right to your event!
Featured opera excerpts include-
Madame Butterfly, Romeo and Juliet, Carmen, La Boheme, Rigoletto, The Magic Flute, The Barber of Seville, The Marriage of Figaro and many more!!! We even do some Musical Theatre, Operetta & Cabaret, including hit scenes from the Sound of Music, Candide, Oklahoma, South Pacific and West Side Story.
For an impromptu preview into Diva Bombing© at work, please click on the link below!
To book Diva Bombing© for your events or celebrations in Melbourne please contact the artists via the contact form below or call direct to +61 402 001 420
- Diva Bombing: Ripponlea Laundromat (msdivageiger.wordpress.com)
I’m positively enthralled by the charm of the little leather jewel toned stained glass clutch bag from Alexander McQueen’s Fall & Winter Collection, 2014. Its spectrum creates a vivid flash back to my visit to Sainte Chapelle, Paris: a golden moment in May of 2009, a fast trip by rail from the grey east Germany with it’s still naked deciduous trees to sunny Paris and her chestnut trees blossoming abundantly.
Perhaps chief designer Sarah Burton wants to remind us of our moments under the archways and flying buttresses of old euro churches, of wedding days and christenings, or perhaps we simply need to recall the summer of misdemeanors on the beach under stark sun and crave instead the shade of sacred buttresses, enveloped by cashmere, and in so doing give our sun loaded skin a little penance.
I take a sip, followed by a gulp. This mocha is good, in fact, it’s superb. I first became giddy about mocha through my near others’ vices. Both my husband and a very close friend swoon over mochas and before I knew it, auditory bombardment of the request, “Give me a mocha please”, soon saw me ordering it. Call me easily influenced, if you so please. But I never realised the implications of becoming a mocha drinker in the big wide world that is the Melbourne cafe scene. Melbournites pride themselves on the state of their coffee and baristas are lauded as the darlings of urban Melbourne.
That aside, ordering a mocha here in an unfamiliar cafe is like Russian Roulette.
Even some of the best cafes in Melbourne have served me the shoddiest of mochas. On entry, I skim the counter quickly to determine the fate of ordering a mocha. If I sight syrup, the show is over and a cappuccino it shall be. I’m skeptical about powder, unless it’s a boutique one from a few establishments. Invariably powder leaves me tetchy and unfulfilled- clumped and sickly sweet it sits at the base of my cup testament more to it’s sugar lineage than any cocoa bean genealogy.
At this point in my epistle it should come as no surprise that I’m overjoyed to have sipped the best mocha in a long time. Right on my window seat at home. We purchased some old school Colombian block of cocoa mass goodness, unsweetened and sourced from Melbourne’s little Spanish supermarket Casa Iberica. Snapping the block into pieces, I plopped a few into our little red saucepan and topped it with milk while the stovetop espresso steamed and erupted it’s aromatic gold crema topped brew. Once the milk bubbled at the edges, it moved from a white tint to a light mahogany, I poured it over the coffee shot and commenced my trip to utopia. The cocoa wraps around the black coffee, caressing it yet not overpowering it. We drink it slowly, contentedly. The aroma of chocolate lingers in our little apartment for the whole morning. Loca for mocha.
In absence of a hills hoist, Mr Divageiger and I have pretty frequent trips to the laundromat. Noting the nice acoustics, despite fine soapy granules in the air, I often enjoy an arpeggio or two when the laundromat is uninhabited.
Today was an extension thereof and here, I bring you, Michaela’s Aria, “Je dis…” from Bizet’s Carmen filmed live from the little laundromat of Ripponlea.