GILES WOODFORDE talks to the people behind the new phenomenon of opera shown live on cinema screens

"We are at the beginning of a new era," announced the august trade publication Kinematograph Year Book with considerable understatement as it reported on the arrival of television in 1936. Perhaps surprisingly, the Year Book didn't see the infant technology as a threat to the future of cinemas themselves, but as an opportunity.

"We already knew that television would open new possibilities in the direction of discriminating living records of scenes enacted at a distance," the report continued, "But now we have seen it in practical operation at an important London kinema."

A full 70 years later Marc Allenby, Head of Film Marketing and Sponsorhip at City Screen cinemas, expressed the same sentiment as he told me why his company had decided to show New York's Metropolitan Opera live on its screens.

"It comes out of the attraction of looking at other content to put on cinema screens, rather than just conventional films. The Metropolitan Opera seemed to fit perfectly. It's a very strong brand, and we were confident that there would be an audience for it. And it came at the right time, when we were developing the technology concerned."

City Screen owns two cinemas in Oxfordshire, the Phoenix Picturehouse in Oxford, and the Regal Picturehouse in Henley, both of which are showing the Met performances. Responsible for the technology involved is Marc John, City Screen's Head of Digital Development.

"Starting at the local cinema end and going backwards, cinemas are making the transition from traditional 35mm film to high-definition digital projection, which means that we can show content beyond feature films," Marc explained. "So we've installed satellite dishes on the roofs of our cinemas, and a receiver in the projection box. That gives us the ability to show a live event."

But, as anyone who owns a PC knows to their cost, computers can scramble things up. Does the system ever break down?

"Anything's possible, but it hasn't gone wrong so far. Of course, if there's a meteor shower in the atmosphere, satellites can collapse, but generally they don't. The only difference between us and digital TV is that we're using a broader bandwidth, a fatter pipe to send the signal through, so the image looks good on a cinema-size screen. So it's tried and tested technology."

Seasoned operagoers in Henley reported that that glitches have, in fact, steadily reduced in number. And as one audience member put it to me: "One of the things that makes you realise it's live is something that was initially very annoying: when the satellite transmission is cut by a passing aeroplane, a sign comes up on the screen accordingly. But I've got used to that now, and really rather enjoy it."

But how live is "live"? Things can go wrong in an opera performance, like singers suddenly losing their voices, or set changes not happening on time. Would cinema audiences see every gory detail?

"There is no editing, or delay," Marc John confirmed. "If someone streaked across the Met stage, you'd see it. That's part of the fun."

But there is a snag. Full price tickets (there are concessions and season ticket rates) cost £25 as opposed to £7 for a film. Why are the prices so high? I asked Marc Allenby.

"We have had to install the satellite system, along with digital projectors. But the overriding factor is that the operas are longer than a conventional film. Because they are normally on a Saturday night, it means that you are losing two film performances at the prime Saturday evening cinema time. So we have to set the prices to compensate for the loss of those two shows. And, of course, the Met receives a significant proportion of the ticket revenue."

I joined a packed Henley audience for last weekend's brand new Met production of Benjamin Britten's Peter Grimes - of particular interest because it marks the Met debut of director John Doyle, famed locally for his musicals at the Newbury Watermill. There is only one word to sum up the production itself: stunning. The claustrophobic, bitter tension of the opera was superbly caught and transmitted across the Atlantic. The sound quality was particularly impressive, with conductor Donald Runnicles securing a sharp edge from the Met orchestra that was often hair-raising. As for Grimes himself, it's difficult to imagine how Anthony Dean Griffey's performance could be bettered.

Nor did Griffey turn a hair when a microphone was thrust into his face as, sweat pouring, he came off stage at the end of Act One - live interviews are included at the beginning of each interval. As audience member Richard Cook put it to me: "We're all worked up to a fever pitch of emotion, then suddenly the curtain comes down and we go backstage to see the stars coming off, absolutely shattered and exhausted by the effort they've put into their performances. This is an interesting and wonderful, but also slightly bizarre experience, because it breaks the feeling of the opera instantly. You can see the mechanics of the illusion."

But did Richard Cook think it was a mistake to break the operatic mystery in this way?

"For me, it's a bonus, because I've seen some extraordinary technical detail of what's going on behind the curtain. It's also very interesting to see the singers getting ready to perform, in the last few seconds before the curtain goes up. You see them doing their yoga, and their neck and tongue exercises. But some of my friends do find this backstage detail very jarring."

The Metropolitan Opera series continues in Henley with Wagner's Tristan und Isolde tomorrow (Oxford is sold out), and Oxford and Henley with Puccini's La bohème on April 5, and Donizetti's La Fille du Régiment on April 26. For tickets, call 0871 704 2068.