"Two hundred and fourteen million - cripes!" The cab-driver shook his head as we trundled away from Covent Garden. "That's our taxes, that is. We won't see that money again."
To be fair, it is not entirely their taxes. The cost of the Royal Opera House (ROH) Redevelopment breaks down into £178 million for the construction of new buildings and the refurbishment of old ones, and £36 million to support the core companies of opera and ballet during their years in the wilderness while the House was closed - and from time to time to bringing them before the public eye mostly in unsuitable venues. Of the total sum, £78.5 million came from Lottery funds, another £100 million was raised privately and the remainder derived jointly from the sale of property and the leasing of retail outlets in the new complex.
The thrust of this vast expenditure is as much towards the popularisation of the Royal Opera House "Establishment" as towards the work of its companies. Tony Blair and Chris Smith have spoken, and there must be nothing to invoke the dreaded spectre of elitism which has caused so much rancour in the past. "For the first time," says an official statement, "the Royal Opera House will be open to tourists and local residents throughout the day."
Visitors are welcome to explore the interior of the building and engage in backstage tours, varied programmes of "exciting, free events" including exhibitions and lunchtime concerts. All the trappings of "the people's opera" are being put in place, with, most significant of all, the lifting of the Segregation Law whereby Sir Jeremy Isaacs, former general director of the Royal Opera, sought to prevent patrons of the cheaper amphitheatre seats mixing with the well-heeled folk downstairs.
The ROH now occupies a two-and-a-half-acre acre site, much of it devoted to the 19th-century Floral Hall. This was a centre of profuse scent and colour during the period when Covent Garden still fulfilled the function of its name, but came to grief in the 1950s when a fire destroyed the elaborate glass-and-metal roof. The hall remained a bone of contention between the local community and the ROH for some time, but in the end the latter came out on top, and the derelict structure became a scenery store.
However, plans for redevelopment - which have been 20 years in the making - envisaged a far finer role for it, and these have at last come to spectacular fruition.
The elegant, ornate roof has been restored, and the tall building now houses an immense foyer, coffee shops, restaurants and bars, affording splendid views of London from the top-floor terraces.
It is difficult to anticipate the atmosphere that will prevail when the workmen move out and the public moves in. When I toured the building, the former were still swarming about, and I swear I heard one mutter to his mate that the roof had fallen in. But perhaps it was a different roof? Or perhaps not? In any case there was no immediate evidence of collapse, and the din of hammering and banging continued while a broadcast voice repeatedly urged its listeners to ignore instructions to evacuate the building, then issued stentorian orders to do precisely that.
Naturally everyone ignored the fire-alarm trials - not least the collection of unruly nine and 10-year-olds assembled in the spanking new 420-seat Linbury Studio Theatre. These pupils of neighbouring St Clement Danes School were taking part in the Royal Opera's Write an Opera scheme with a work of their own composition and performance. They were clearly enjoying every minute of it.
Throughout the restoration work, Inigo Jones's aspirations in 1640 for Covent Garden's piazza have been kept in mind, and a pedestrian link now leads from the piazza, past the new box office and the inevitable coffee shop, to the Row Street Theatre which is the justification of the whole ambitious exercise.
There has been a theatre on this site since 1732. For the first century of its existence it was primarily a playhouse, though during the 1730s, Handel's work began appearing on the stage. His opera, Alcina, was written for Covent Garden - which makes it seem strange, even perverse, that the house now ignores it, leaving the honour of mounting a new production this year to English National Opera.
In 1808, the first theatre was destroyed by fire, along with Handel's organ. Its successor opened a year later, offering a mixed bill of fare that ranged from opera and ballet to acrobatics on the high wire. By the late 1840s, opera and ballet had gained the upper hand. However, once again, in 1856, the theatre burned down.
The present house opened in 1858, largely committed to opera, but during the first World War it was requisitioned by the government as a furniture repository, and during the second, served as a dance hall for licentious soldiery. Hostilities over, Dame Ninette de Valois and her dancers arrived in 1946 to become the resident ballet company, while at the same time Sir David Webster and the conductor, Karl Rankl, worked to establish the genesis of the present fine opera company.
Happily, the old house is a listed building, restricting major redevelopment to the improvement of behind-the-scenes facilities, and in the public section, concentrating on the restoration, as far as possible, of the building's original appearance. Seating has been re-aligned to give better sight-lines and more leg-room - although there are still 100 seats with a restricted view. In practical terms, the most important of the sorely-needed backstage improvements is the provision of streamlined access for the huge pantechnicons that ferry the ROH scenery to and from Wales - London rents are too high to permit any closer storage, they say.
The new arrangements enable the house to practise a three-session working day, increasing stage productivity by 50 percent, and cutting out the costly overnight crew hitherto necessary for dismantling the stage and re-assembling it. Not all is running smoothly, however: technical problems backstage have led to the cancellation of Ligeti's Grand Macabre.
The whole complex operation is under the direction of the American "turnaround king", Michael Kaiser, famous for his rescue of theatre companies in distress. His executive entourage includes Elaine Padmore - an honorary Irishwoman if ever there was one - as head of opera, plus Northern Irish chorus master, Dermot Agnew, and Dublin-born company manager, Cormac Simms. They will have their work cut out during the months ahead, though some of the forthcoming productions are imports from abroad, including Rossini's Otello, staged at Wexford more than 30 years ago and now returning in fresh apparel from Luigi Ferrari's Rossini festival in Pesaro.
Inevitably, the serious business of opera must wait on a series of jollifications, starting with the state opening by the Queen tonight, though she can hardly be numbered among prominent opera-lovers. Several days are scheduled for study events and performances for invited audiences of building workers, arts students, professionals and local residents, and after that come two major celebration concerts embellished with party-pieces by international stars. But the real proof of the redeveloped pudding has to be Falstaff, which is the Royal Opera's first in-house production of the new era.
Conducted by Bernard Haitink, with Bryn Terfel in the title role, it opens on December 6th, promising a rosy future for the house. However, with the cancellation of Ligeti's Grand Macabre already announced after the booking had opened, many are still holding their breath. Surely it can't all go wrong again?
