The Opera Cabaret was launched at the Stoke Newington Midsummer Festival in June 1996. It brought the highest quality professional singing to an enthusiastic audience in an informal setting. Since then it has become an eagerly anticipated event in Hackney and Primrose HIll ~ and many other venues, including Chat’s Palace,  Cecil Sharp House, and The Old Church Stoke Newington. The Opera Cabaret has also presented unique concerts showcasing singers’  extraordinary, in all sorts of venues across London.
We are determined to be back, in Primrose Hill and in The Round Chapel, as soon as we get the green light to do so!

While waiting for the real thing, our dog Raffy has been busy.  Click here to see his thoughts about Opera:

If you'd like a hard copy, we're selling them for £8.00 so that we can make a donation of £3.00 a copy to HELP MUSICIANS.  Copies from Farquhar at 

In the meantime we very much hope you enjoy The Virtual Opera Cabaret performed by some of our wonderful singers.   Just click on the tab above for a remarkable cabaret ~ in your own home!
Farquhar, Wendy, Stephanie, Gary and Martin  

These are difficult times for musicians, a great many of whom are self employed. Help Musicians provides a great means of supporting them. If you would like to help, please click on this link which will take you to their donation page:

In the meantime, keep well and please enjoy Nessun Dorma below!!!



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Va, Pensiero

Va, pensiero, sull'ali dorate.
Va, ti posa sui clivi, sui coll,
Ove olezzano tepide e molli
L'aure dolci del suolo natal!
Del Giordano le rive saluta,
Di Sionne le torri atterrate.
O mia Patria, sì bella e perduta!
O membranza sì cara e fatal!
Arpa d'or dei fatidici vati,
Perché muta dal salice pendi?
Le memorie del petto riaccendi,
Ci favella del tempo che fu!
O simile di Solima ai fati,
Traggi un suono di crudo lamento;
O t'ispiri il Signore un concento
Che ne infonda al patire virtù
Che ne infonda al patire virtù
Che ne infonda al patire virtù!

Dearest homeland, my thoughts fly towards thee;
Wings of gold bear them on to journey’s ending,
Where the sweet scented breezes are blending
In the Green Hills and vales of our land!

Ah to stand by the banks of the Jordan
And to see Sion’s woeful desolation!
O dear land, once the joy of our nation
Now forever lost by fate’s cruel hand.

Golden harps of the prophets and seers of old
Why so silently hang on the willow?
Lift your voice, stir our hearts, let the story be told
Of the times now so long gone and past.

O Jerusalem, blessed city,
When will grief and lamenting be over?
Let our song rise to thee, great Jehovah
Hear the voice of thy people at last,
Hear the voice of thy people at last!


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