In its handsome, classic auditorium, the San Francisco Opera last week opened its 22nd season with Aïda. A capacity house was pardonably proud, from the cheering galleries to the McNears, Ehrmans and Fleishhackers in their beige and gilt boxes. A roster of the finest stars (many from the Metropolitan), a superb orchestra (the San Francisco Symphony) and a well trained municipal chorus would present four weeks of repertory as elegant as any city could boast. Then the company would move down to Los Angeles, where it would give a Hollywood-studded audience the only really grand opera Los Angeles ever hears. In...
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