Indignant operagoers

This Date in UCSF History: A Night at the Opera

Tuesday, September 10, 2024

Originally published in Synapse on September 14, 1989.

Friday evening Sept. 8 was opening night at the San Francisco Opera. Saturday morning brought a flurry of outraged responses in the media concerning a group of protesters who, having purchased standing-room tickets, unfurled a STOP AIDS NOW banner, blew whistles, and shouted at the audience, “You have the power to stop AIDS!” They were removed by the police, and the opera began.

The near-unanimous critics label the protesters as misguided. The opera, they point out, has sponsored AIDS benefits. Many members of the audience have provided considerable financial support for local AIDS services. Was the protest an appropriate response to these good works?

Taking its cue from a quick-thinking conductor, the indignant audience rose in a loud rendition of the National Anthem. Columnist Herb Caen went so far as to liken the result to the Marseillaise scene in “Casablanca” in which heroic resistance voices drown out a small party of Nazis. 

“The French won,” Caen pointed out, “and so did the audience.”

This absurd comparison by a member of the distinguished audience illustrates exactly why the protest was appropriate. Caen’s assertion that “Everybody’s against AIDS” is probably fine. 

With the possible exceptions of a few politicians who attempt to exploit fear of the disease, and perhaps the financial officers of a few profiteering drug companies, we all wish AIDS would disappear tomorrow. 

But this is absolutely not enough, and the incensed operagoers know it. How else does one explain their anger? 

After all, the protesters did not explicitly offend anyone. They did not, for example, interrupt the performance, but made their statement before the opening curtain. They did not shout insults; their slogan was “You have the power to stop AIDS!” This is hardly grounds for comparison with the Third Reich.

It could be that the outrage resulted simply from being reminded about AIDS, and of each person’s potential to do more than she or he has done. Those who have given some are at greatest risk of resting on their laurels, for our views of what constitutes a sufficient contribution may not keep pace with the reality of AIDS. 

Is it illegitimate to remind a physician who sees AIDS every day but never acts to question the inefficiency of federal drug-testing regulations, that her greater effort is needed? Or to remind a government official who supports AIDS organizations without challenging the monopolistic system that encourages overpricing of life-giving drugs, that he has the power to do more? 

Was somebody’s nostalgic fantasy of opening night interrupted? Was somebody’s day spoiled last winter when the same protest group blocked traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge? 

If people, however annoyed, can see these inconveniences in comparison to the frustration of those affected directly by AIDS, the protests will not have failed.

Of course, most operagoers are hardly going to turn to the UCSF student newspaper for an interpretation of these events. They are more likely to read columnists who assuage their consciences by applauding their anger.

That’s why protesters have to go to the opera.

[Editor’s note: as we go to press The Chronicle is admitting that their “news” account of the protest was based on a false report by an Opera spokesman named John P. Finck. The Chronicle now says it was a member of the audience, not a demonstrator, who used a chemical spray during the protest, and that the demonstration itself was nonviolent.]