A conversation?

"That's the opera house?"
"Yup."
"That sort of black road hump thing?"
"Yup."
"In the distance? that looks like the station?"
"Yes."
"The opera house?!"

My guests weren't convinced. Admittedly, from a distance, looking across at Lyon's opera house from next to the basilica at Fourviere, the rooftop doesn't immediately shout out "opera house"; its message is more along the lines of "train anoraks this way" or "keep your jumbo jet here". Perhaps I exaggerate, but when standing opposite the nineteenth century neo-classical front entrance, looking at the neat rows of arches, it's hard to believe that roof and facade belong to the same brick walls. Yet those four outside walls are the largest part of what survived the opera house revamp in the early 90s. Revamp is a mild way of putting it, the opera house was gutted head to toe leaving only the external shell. Described by its architect Jean Nouvel as establishing a dialogue between history and modernity, Lyon Opera now sports an auditorium dressed entirely in black, stainless steel staircases straight out of the Crystal Maze's future zone, a Escher-like foyer with single-file escalators sprouting at unexpected angles, huge red lights and red padded walls, with just a smattering of history in the form of mirrors and chandeliers. Not so much a dialogue as a full on slanging match.