When the Opera de Monte Carlo first opened its gates in the year 1879, it was to serve as a marked juxtaposition against the loud bets and raucous laughter ringing forth from the casino next door. A product of Charles Garnier, the theatre later took on his name and is now more commonly referred to as Salle Garnier. A domed winter green top flanked by Victorian towers stands proud ringed by bronzed and stone water features of smiling cherubs and oddly humanoid statues set in a garden of palms.

It isn’t just the theatre’s façade that strikes a chord in people. The quiet corridors and halls are open for tour in the absence of the frenzied rush of performers in rehearsal or in the crowded midst of a performance. Marble in shades of cream and rose are patterned across the floor, reflecting the golden arches and frescoes of trapped moments from the past. The running fissures and fault lines of bright orange add character to each of the 28 onyx columns holding up the vaulted ceilings. Bas reliefs and bronze illumination adds a touch of flair to the many gaming rooms found along the maze of corridors within the theatre.

Yet the main hall itself is a small affair. Plush, velvet chairs to seat 600, blood red curtains in brocade hanging across the galleries and an almost gaudy display of gold embossments and sculptures. These padded walls have however reverberated with the voices of Patti and Chaliapine, the tenor Jose Cura and bass Kwangchul Youn. The wood paneled ebony stage has seen ballets and thematic pieces. If there ever were a finer abode of western culture and art, you would be scant to find it.