Editorial: Precious moments of opera

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My wife and I landed the best table in the room.

With a glass of bubbles we berthed bang in the middle of the Mission Chapel which had morphed into a temporary opera house, its walls barely able to contain the twin pipes of Phillip Rhodes and Anna Pierard.

The lofty billing suggested Friday's charity event was to be a high-brow evening of arcane art in a foreign language.

Many things put paid to that theory.

First up, Henare O'Keefe was on microphone. His public appearances are peppered with colourful rhetoric, including the line that his adopted son, Phillip, had a troubled childhood that "would make Jake da Muss look like a pussycat".

When I say we had the best seat in the house, it was because four young proteges were at our table. The Hastings Boys' High quartet of LJ Crichton, Mana Halatanu, Alfred Fuimaono and Emmanuel Fuimaono had us in fits all night - until they sang.

Theirs was the best rendering of Ten Guitars I've heard. As humble as they were talented, a genuine credit to their school.

Then there's local lass Anna Pierard. The mezzo soprano triumphed on and off set.

Addressing the audience, she reminded us that the simple act of people singing to each other is "precious", a "gift", which is why we tend to sing to our babies. Hers was a simple message, imparted with an incandescent voice.

But, of course, this night belonged to Phillip Rhodes. Smaller than I imagined, his frame belies his yield. How fitting it was that his talent was used to help families out of the very circumstances he had to overcome. His is a yet-to-be-written opera.

With a power note he drew a tear from a surly writer - and shook the table glasses at the same time. That's something.

Come again.