Remember the days when opera was one of the biggest events of the year at the Maine Center for the Arts? Passionate followers of the art form would cram into the hall, cheering the singers of touring companies such as the New York City Opera. Remember not so long ago when there was a statewide furor over the cancellation of weekly broadcasts from the Metropolitan Opera on Maine Public Radio?

Where were all those opera buffs Friday night when the Helikon Opera of Moscow presented “Die Fledermaus” at the Maine Center? A meager audience of just over 500 attended the performance, and the hall, which seats a little more than 1,600, seemed to sag with disappointment.

With all the talk of creative economy, why is it that one of the most famous operas of all time can’t draw a full house of the so-called cultural creatives? Or a fuller house of university students? Perhaps the Olympics trumped Richard Strauss. Perhaps the night was too cold, or the tickets too expensive. Or perhaps Helikon, a fairly young company, does not have the ready name recognition of some U.S. companies. Or maybe you just hate opera.

Excuses, excuses.

Whatever the reason, opera that isn’t Gilbert and Sullivan (which, tellingly, filled nearly all of the 522 seats during six performances at The Grand Auditorium in Ellsworth earlier this month) doesn’t appear to capture the imagination of the local audiences these days. Have we lost our taste for it? Have we forgotten that 20 years ago, this area did not even have a modern performing arts house, and even if it had, an upstart Russian company would not likely have been programmed for its stages?

Ah well. Although some say opera is as old as the Greeks, memory, it turns out, is short.

Those who attended the one-night-only production by Helikon, which takes its name from Greek mythology, were treated to an almost slapstick interpretation of Strauss’ music-based story that is every bit as socially nutty as “Sex in the City” or a daytime soap. Helikon prides itself on stage design, which, in this case, included a 38-member orchestra onstage, and various rotating set pieces depicting sculptural piles of musical instruments. The chorus itself wore sculpturelike costumes that were futuristic enough to have been lifted from an episode (one of the old ones) of “Star Trek” – or at the very least, taken from a fashion mag on Viennese camp.

Two cheeky clowns inserted into the show served as a Greek chorus of sorts, humorously ridiculing the main action while helping with scene changes and righting the occasional onstage gaffe. Some may have found the acrobatic gents distracting, but they created a bawdy and circuslike atmosphere that the audience repeatedly applauded.

Two of the performers were also outstanding – Ekaterina Oblezova as Rosalinde and Anatoly Ponomarev as Eisenstein. The smiling Olga Orlovskaya as Adele hit high notes so effortlessly she seemed to reject the need to breathe.

This was not a stuffy night of opera. If anything, it was goofy, corny, vaudevillian. Even the supertitles, above-stage projections that translated both the German libretto and the heavily accented spoken English, playfully incorporated graphic tricks. Had you been there Friday, you would likely have been among those calling out “Bravo! Bravo!” in appreciation.