A Rainy Night in Manila, and My First Encounter With Opera

Bel Canto d’Italia turned my first live opera experience into an evening of unexpected goosebumps, powerful voices, and a reminder that some performances really do need to be heard in person.

It was a rainy evening in Manila, which somehow felt fitting. Outside, the weather was already brewing up a storm. Inside the Asia Pacific College Auditorium, another kind was about to begin.

On September 7, I attended Bel Canto d’Italia, the culminating concert of the Bel Canto Opera Philippines Voice Masterclass II. Despite all the concerts, performances, and events I have covered over the years, this was actually my first time attending an opera event.

There was also a small full-circle moment before the performances even began. I got to see Anezhka Lim, one of my former swimming teammates, together with her family. There is something amusing about seeing someone you once knew in such a completely different setting. We used to share pool decks. This time, we were sitting in an auditorium waiting for an evening of opera.

And I came in knowing I had a job to do.

Take photos. Take videos. Get enough material for coverage. Pay attention to the programme.

What I was not prepared for was having to remind myself to keep filming because I kept getting distracted by just how good everyone sounded.

There were goosebumps. A ridiculous amount of goosebumps.

Hearing opera live is completely different from hearing it through a recording. You can hear the technique, of course, but you also physically feel the power behind the voices. There were several moments throughout the evening when my brain genuinely went, Wait, a person can actually sing like that?

One of my personal favorites was Pia Regina Casing, who performed O Luce di Quest’anima from Donizetti’s Linda di Chamounix. Her voice immediately stood out to me, and we later got the chance to interview her about the experience.

Pia shared that this was already her second masterclass, and you could tell how much she enjoyed being part of it. It also gave me a different appreciation for what we were watching onstage. The concert may have been the culmination, but behind every polished performance were hours of learning, adjustments, mentorship, and practice.

We also spoke with Via Villasin. She shared that she had changed the piece she was originally going to perform, which made what we saw onstage even more impressive. There was no sense of uncertainty in the final performance. She carried it with confidence, and everything felt completely intentional.

Really, though, everyone was good. It sounds like the easy thing to say after an event, but this was one of those rare occasions when I genuinely meant it. Every singer brought something different. Some performances were delicate and controlled, while others seemed to completely fill the auditorium within seconds.

The second half of the evening also introduced me to more of the Italian repertoire, with music by composers including Giuseppe Verdi, Ernesto de Curtis, Francesco Paolo Tosti, Salvatore Cardillo, Eduardo di Capua, and Giacomo Puccini.

This was probably the point when my internal commentary became significantly less sophisticated.

Because at some point, listening to the male voices in particular, all I could think was: I did not know a man could sing that well. Actually, I did not know a person could sing that well.

There is a depth and resonance to a trained operatic voice that recordings simply do not communicate properly. Hearing it live, only a few meters away, is almost startling. The sound does not just come from the stage. It seems to occupy the entire room.

Performances from Maestro Hyun Joon Park, Byeong In Park, and Rachelle Gerodias-Park brought even more weight to the latter half of the concert, leading into one of opera’s most recognizable works, Puccini’s Nessun Dorma from Turandot.

And while the voices naturally commanded much of the attention, I also found myself watching Reynaldo Gendrano, the evening’s collaborating artist on piano. He was incredible.

Accompanying singer after singer, moving through different composers, tempos, moods, and vocal styles while keeping everything cohesive is an art in itself. By the end of the night, it was impossible not to recognize how much the piano shaped everything we were hearing.

Perhaps the biggest thing I took away from my first opera experience was that you do not need to already understand opera to be moved by it.

I did not walk into Bel Canto d’Italia knowing every aria, character, composer, or technical detail on the programme. I walked in curious, with my phone ready to document the night.

And maybe that was the perfect way to experience it for the first time.

There were moments when I was filming because I had to, but also moments when I genuinely wanted to put the phone down and simply listen. Because some things sound impressive through a screen.

Opera, I learned, is something else entirely when the voice is right there in front of you.

For my first night at the opera, I could not have asked for a better introduction. On a rainy evening in Manila, I walked into an auditorium expecting to cover a concert.

I walked out finally understanding the goosebumps.