What a HORRIBLE week for the opera world!

In increasing order of tragedy:

Cheryl Studer, a soprano who I've admired for some time, and in fact was the first singer I ever saw in recital, just suffered a heart attack. Baruch Hashem, it seems to be mild, but she's still going to need at least months to recover. I've regretted never hearing her at the Met, especially since their failure to engage her recently seems to be for political reasons, not musical ones. May G-d send her a refuah shleimah (complete healing).

The wonderful American heldentenor James King died on November 20. I am, of course, far too young to have seen him live at the Met (except some brief utterances as Walther von Stolzing in the Meistersinger finale which ended - at 2:oo AM! - the James Levine Gala in 1996), but I have been impressed with the recordings I've heard. My only time really hearing him live was in 1995 or 1996 when he sang - magnificently - the Winterstürme at one of Licia Albanese's Puccini Foundation Galas - and he was 70! Also, I've spoken with some young singers who have studied with him - he was a professor of voice at Indiana University - and they all said he was a wonderful tenor and a really nice guy.

And South African tenor Deon van der Walt, who has sung Mozart roles such as Tamino, Ferrando and Belmonte all over the world - I heard a fine Met broadcast of his Tamino, although I never saw him live - was shot and killed at his winery near Cape Town, allegedly murdered by his father, who then committed suicide. He was only 47. There really are no words.

Baruch dayan emet.

A singing ICEBERG??!!!

This is not the actual iceberg under discussion, but the photo accompanied the original article on Yahoo. This iceberg is only 700m long and off the coast of Argentina.

Yes, folks. Believe it or not, scientists in the Antarctic have found a 50 kilometer long iceberg that seems to "sing". Actually, it's having a "love duet" with an underwater peninsula - created by its scraping around that land mass they collided. Apparently when the iceberg "got stuck", the water rushing through the crevasses at high pressure created acoustic signals that were picked up by a German research studying earthquakes and tectonic movements on the Ekstroem ice shelf on Antarctica's South Atlantic coast back in 2002 - the study was just published in Science last Friday. While these signals are too low for the human ear to hear normally (ah, this iceberg is a basso!), when played back at higher speed, they sounded like a swarm of bees or like an orchestra warming up, and it goes up and down like a real piece of music.

Here is the link to the original story on Yahoo. Unfortunately, no sound files were provided. Even more tragic, logistics will prevent this talented geological phenomenon from making a Met debut. No doubt, however, considering the slow pace of tectonic change, this iceberg will undoubtedly have a long and marvelous career - assuming global warming doesn't get it first!

Incidentally, in light of my fascination with astronomy, the universe itself "sings". Apparently astrophysicists now believe that the universe "vibrates" on a note about 64 octaves below middle C.

"Saint Exupery" mystery solved! (I think)

Well, in my quest to find out which saint Antoine de Saint-Exupery is named after, I think I made a breakthrough. Instead of typing "Saint Exupery" into Google, which produced nothing but the author, I typed "Saint Exuperius", and got an index of patron saints. This generated three possiblilities:

1. The aforementioned Saint Exuperius, one of the Martyrs of the Theban Legion, who died in 287 CE at Aaunum, an area of modern Switzerland.

2. Saint Exuperantius, a deacon who was martyred in Spoleto, Italy in 303 CE.

3. The most likely, I think - Saint Exuperance, also known as Exuerantia of Troyes, a nun who died of natural causes in 380 CE and whose relics are venerated in Troyes. It would make sense that a French family would be named after a French saint.

And yes, there are quite a few saints who are patrons of music or musicians besides Cecilia and Gregory (although not specifically opera or any other genre of music); I should also note that Julian the Hospitaller (whom I've actually heard of) is the patron saint of wandering musicians and minstrels, among many other things.. I've posted links if you're interested.

Note that there are thousands of saints listed on this site, and every conceivable topic of patronage. As I said before, I think the Church "decanonized" some of them because there were just too many to handle, so I hope these are still official saints, and that Catholic readers correct me if I'm wrong about any of this!

Saints (including Exupery) and blessings

Just who is Saint Exupery? I don't mean the author of The Little Prince, I mean the actual Catholic saint that he and his family is named after. I've tried looking this up but I've had no luck - every reference on Google for 10 pages seemed to be about the author. I don't think it helped matters that the Church recently "downsized" a large number of saints recently, including one of my personal favorites, St. Christopher (because he's the patron saint of travellers). So I have no idea if the gentleman (lady?) in question is even still a saint. Even worse, "Saint Exupery" is probably the French version of a Latin original and I'm probably looking up the wrong name!

Speaking of saints, when I worked, all too briefly, in the Therapeutic Recreation Department of Florence Nightingale Health Center (tragically, they closed in July 2005, several months after I left), one of my favorite colleagues was the Catholic chaplain, Sister Alice Goldsmith, a lovely, indefatigable woman of at least 80 who was there ministering to patients virtually every day - and she was a volunteer! She was from one of the more liberal orders and didn't wear a habit. Because I was only there for three months replacing someone on maternity leave, I didn't get to know her quite as well as I would have liked. We could have had some marvelous theological discussions, I'm sure. I do remember being delighted when she was talking about the possibility of the Church naming someone to be the patron saint of the Internet - I don't remember who the candidates were.

And who is the patron saint of opera? St. Cecilia (no, not Ms. Bartoli, although she's close!), of course, is the patron saint of music in general, and I'm pretty sure St. Gregory, who was responsible for Gregorian chant, has some authority, but I'm not sure if there is another one for opera in particular. Although I imagine St. Ambrose ("Sant'Ambrogio"), the patron saint of Milan - opening night at La Scala is always on his feast day of December 7 - could also be a candidate. By the way, the new pope, who I disagree with on just about everything else, is at least a classical music fan.

The patron saint of this blog is Jussi Björling. Okay, he was a Lutheran, not a Catholic, and like many Swedes, not much of a churchgoer. But I don't doubt for a moment that he was a deeply good and spiritual man. And he sounded like ... well, to avoid being blasphemous, I'll say an archangel.

All frivolity aside, I wonder about proper Jewish responses to great music. There is a brachah (blessing) for just about everything: different kinds of food and drink, seeing beautiful or wondrous natural phenomena, meeting different kinds of distinguished people from kings (which these days I would imagine would also include presidents and such) to Torah scholars to secular scholars, receiving good news, even receiving bad news. One of my favorites is the blessing you're supposed to say when leaving the bathroom. But with the exception of the all-purpose blessing Shehecheyanu ("Blessed are You...who has sustained us, brought us to this time, and has permitted us to reach this season"), there isn't really a blessing for experiencing great art or music. I say this blessing:

a) the first time seeing an opera

b) the first time in a particular opera house

c) my first performance of the season, or after an otherwise very long hiatus

d) before a performance with a favorite singer that I've been looking forward to for a long time

e) after a really great performance, especially one that I wasn't expecting to be quite so good.

Still, I think instead of such a generalized blessing, which is generally used for any momentous event, there should be something a little more specific for art and/or music. I suspect there isn't one because the ancient and medieval rabbis feared that they might be glorifying paganism, especially when dealing with "graven images" like painting and sculpture. But if anything, I think saying a blessing for art or music, or meeting a great artist of any sort, reminds one just Who is the Source of all artistic inspiration, putting even "pagan" works in G-d's service. Hopefully it would also put one's love of the arts on a higher plane than, shall we say, some of the real ego, nastiness, snideness that goes on this world or the tendency of some fans to literally worship artists. Jokes aside, I don't worship Jussi Björling, or any other of the artists I have gushed or will gush about here.* My very favorite Torah portion is Parashat Vayekhel, the section of Exodus dealing with the building of the Tabernacle and how G-d inspired the two artisans Betzalel (after whom the main art school in Israel is named) and Oholiav with "divine spirit of skill" - thus the desire to create and experience art is holy (I'll write more about this when the parasha comes up this year, probably in March). I would like to see a blessing for encountering a great work of art that goes something like "Blessed are You...who invests human beings with the divine spirit of skill that you gave to Bezalel and Oholiav" (My Hebrew isn't good enough yet for a Hebrew version). This could also include music, but I might also like to see something involving King David, the sweet singer of Israel, for a music blessing.

Actually, one last bit of possible frivolity before I go. Since Bryn Terfel, in addition to being an incredible singer, is also the king of some eeny-weeny island off the coast of Wales called Bardsey, do I say the brachah for meeting a king ("Blessed are You... who shares your glory with mortals") when I next see him? He's only the king of five people and several hundred sheep, and I don't think the sheep had anything to do with picking him, but when am I ever going to get a chance to say that blessing in front of a "legitimate" king or queen (or even president)?

*I know of a fan who had an altar to Maria Callas. Literally. I think this is the same guy who started playing a tape recorder with Callas singing "Casta Diva" during one of Renata Scotto's Met performances - apparently to punish her for not being worshipful enough of La Divina. Also, there is another fan of a singer who I'd better not identify who has pictures of her plastered on all four walls and the ceiling of her room, and even had her sheets made up with the singer's face on it. The singer, not surprisingly, reacted in horror upon meeting this person. And last but not least is the rabid, vicious, anti-gay and anti-Semitic nutcase who stuffs any chatboard where he can get away with it with The Gospel of Cheryl Studer. A real pity, as Studer is a fine artist (the first singer I ever saw in recital, way back in 1995) who absolutely doesn't deserve this guy. With any luck, she doesn't even know he exists!

Branagh's "Magic Flute" film update: Uh-oh

Back in early August I reported that Kenneth Branagh, one of my favorite film directors, was making a film of The Magic Flute (I am presuming that since Stephen Fry is writing the libretto, it will be in English, so I don't think we should be calling this Die Zauberflote). I just read a new article that came from The Guardian, and in addition to the previously announced casting (Joseph Kaiser as Tamino, newcomer Amy Carson - a recent Cambridge graduate - as Pamina, Lyubov Petrova as the Queen of the Night, Ben Davis as Papageno, and René Pape as Sarastro) it reports that the conductor will be James Conlon leading the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. The film will cost $27 million (£15.2 million) and is being bankrolled by Peter Moores, who has financed all the opera-in-English recordings on Chandos. The soundtrack was recorded at Shepperton Studios in September. That's the good news.

Now to what might be the bad news. I assumed that this would not be a "traditional" production - after all, neither Branagh's version of Much Ado About Nothing or Hamlet take place in the 16th Century, and he updated Love's Labour Lost (which I haven't seen) to make it a 1930's musical. Since the first two films were brilliant - in fact, I would say Much Ado About Nothing is one of the most beautiful, joyous, life-affirming films of the 1990s, I didn't think a time-transplanted production from Branagh would be a problem. I assumed that however he set it, the film would have the very strong element of fantasy, wonder and mystery which is so necessary in this opera. Indeed, one early report referred to Lyubov Petrova's character as "Queen Elizabeth of the Night", so I thought that it might have been updated to an Elizabethan setting. However, apparently Branagh has decided to set the film during World War I, about as unfantastical, setting I can imagine. The Three Ladies will be field nurses and Papageno will be, instead of a birdcatcher, the custodian of the canaries used to detect lethal gas (so much for his innocence!). Per another interview of Branagh by the BBC, Tamino is a young soldier set off on a journey in pursuit of love on the eve of battle, which takes him to a twilight dream world. OK, that last might possibly work, especially for the tests of fire and water. And I'll admit that you can probably get away with a lot more in film than you can on stage. But, despite my admiration for Branagh, I'm still worried.

By the way, Joseph Kaiser, a member of the Lyric Opera Center for American Artists, has just replaced the originally scheduled Hugh Smith as Mark in Lyric Opera's production of Sir Michael Tippett's The Midsummer Marriage. Rumors are that Lyric Opera paid almost $100,000 for Smith's contract. I'm not familar enough with the opera to comment, but I think Smith (who, admittedly, I last heard at least 5 or 6 years ago) is an excellent tenor and it's a shame he's not getting more promotion. And director Peter Hall has just pulled out at the last minute due to illness.

More on The Magic Flute (actually, this time it is Die Zauberflöte) front: There is a new recording of the opera coming out on DG (I'm not sure whether it is a live or studio recording - I suspect the former): The Mahler Chamber Orchestra conducted by Claudio Abbado with Christoph Strehl (who makes his Met debut in the role in 2006-2007) as Tamino, Dorothea Röschmann as Pamina, Erika Miklosa as the Queen of the Night, Hanno Muller-Brachmann as Papageno, and René Pape as Sarastro. Now that I'm not worried about!

How's THIS for a Halloween costume?

OK, it's not actually a Halloween costume, but this would have looked fantastic in New York's annual Greenwich Village Halloween Parade! I didn't attend, but I did see highlights on the TV news. None of the costumes I saw, some of which were indeed very imaginative and glamorous, could possibly top this one. This is from a performance of Mitridate, re di Ponto, not the (somewhat) familar opera by Mozart done recently at Covent Garden, but a real rarity by Niccolò Porpora, staged at La Fenice earlier this month. It is the first staging of the opera since 1736. The costume, worn by tenor Anicio Zorzi Giustiniani in the title role, was designed by Massimo Gasparon, who directed the production.

I suppose in this day of modernistic, updated stagings (only a few which actually work), we should be grateful that Mr. Zorzi Gustiniani wasn't forced to wear a leather jacket. But, as I've said before, I've become more sensitive than usual to issues of performer safety and comfort, and I wonder if a costume that seems so heavy and unwieldy, with a train that makes Angela Gheorghiu's Met Opening Night and film Tosca gown look miniscule, was such a good idea. However, it might be easier to handle than it looks - costume designers know a lot of tricks for things like this.

If you read Italian (I don't, really), here is a link to site Opera Click for a review and background to the opera, as well as more spectacular costumes.

Thanks to my friend Jean Peccei, who put the picture as the "Front Page Photo" on the Yahoo! Group Opera World, which she moderates with such distinction, as a Halloween gift. However, by the time you read this, the picture will probably have changed.

Daniel Catan - a major opera composer?

Composer Daniel Catán

I commented back when I first heard that Placido Domingo and Rolando Villazon were going to appear in an a new opera based on Il Postino together that I needed to hear more of the work of its composer, Daniel Catán. Well thanks to the wonders of internet radio, tonight I got to hear most of one of his operas that premiered just about a year ago at the Houston Grand Opera, Salsipuedes, a Tale of Love, War and Anchovies (a broadcast of a live performance from HGO) and Act II of Rappacini's Daughter (from a recording made by the Manhattan School of Music). I am very impressed by what I heard - this opera is a keeper. The music may not be instantly memorable or hummable a la Puccini, but it's passionate and usually gorgeous. Most importantly. Catán's work is actually singable, unlike that of so many modern composers who make unreasonable demands on their performers. There is some "Latin" rhythms in his music, but not consistently, and I particularly noticed quite a bit of scoring for xylophone. He is one of the very few contemporary composers who has multiple stagings of his works, and I think he could grow into one of the 21st Century's major opera composers if he plays his cards right. Certainly having promoters like Domingo and Villazon can't hurt.

Soprano Ana Maria Martinez

I was also very impressed by the performers in both works, but pride of place goes to Ana Maria Martinez, one of my favorite sopranos of the new generation, who sings Lucero in Salsipuedes. Her voice is dark and rich with a mezzoish tinge, and it has presence, pathos, and drama. She will make her Met debut on November 19 as Micaela, but I would love to hear her as Carmen. In fact, if I do wind up going to see Carmen this year (I probably will because I usually attend the performance the night before Thanksgiving), I will be going for her and Marcello Giordani, and not for Denyce Graves, the "star" of the production.

Martinez will have a CD of opera arias coming out on November 15 from Naxos, a label for which she has extensively recorded in their fabulous series on American Jewish music - Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco's Naomi and Ruth is a must. Martinez's husband, tenor Chad Shelton, did an excellent job of singing Lucero's lover Ulises, and it was a pleasure to hear Zheng Cao's warm, velvety mezzo as Magali. The lower voices were also fine. The soprano in Rappacini's Daughter was Olivia Gorra, who was apparently a student at MSM when the opera was recorded, but has since sung Liu at the Met and is on this season's roster as a cover. She's got more competition than Martinez, but I would still be happy to hear her.

(Note: I missed most of the plot synopsis, and I don't speak Spanish, so I really don't know what was going on in the operas. NPR describes the plot of Salsipuedes as a cross between Cosi fan Tutte and Springtime for Hitler!)

Strongly cast, mostly satisfying Met "Aida"

Aida

Music by Giuseppe Verdi, libretto by Antonio Ghislanzoni

Performance of Saturday night, October 29, 2005, the 1,085th Metropolitan Opera performance of this work.

Conductor: James Conlon

Aida: Hasmik Papian
Radames: Salvatore Licitra
Amneris: Dolora Zajick
Amonasro: Mark Rucker
Ramfis: Paata Burchuladze
The King: Morris Robinson
Messenger: Ronald Naldi
Priestess: Edyta Kulczak


First three bits of good news - Jean-Paul Fouchécourt, who was injured during last week's Falstaff, is fine. I wasn't able to find out exactly what happened to him, but it didn't seem too serious - in fact I think he was all right the day after the performance. Second, for the first time in the regular season (I'm not counting the Opening Night Gala), the house was actually full - good news even though I couldn't get a seat. And my new binoculars arrived from E-Bay, enabling me once again to see details of facial expressions even from Family Circle Standing Room. I expect that when I go for Rigoletto and La Traviata, where I hope to get Balcony seats, I'll be able to look down the singer's throats!

Armenian soprano Hasmik Papian, publicity shot (I couldn't find any pictures of her as Aida)

I regret that I was unable to see Michele Crider in the title role, but I was prevented by both the Jewish holidays and by my chorus rehearsals. Although I was at Crider's Met debut as Butterfly (big, passionate voice, but clearly nervous and trying very hard not to trip over her kimono) and also saw her Leonora in Il Trovatore (where the voice was still impressive but she clearly had technical problems), I have never hear her sing Aida, which many say is her best role. Hasmik Papian, however, proved to be a more than adequate substitute. Her voice is a bit brighter and more lyric than I like in this role, albeit quite beautiful. There was some scooping and her Italian diction is a bit odd (probably the Armenian accent), but she is a wonderful actress physically and vocally. Her word-painting, particularly in "Ritorna vincitor" and the confrontation with Amonasro, was quite telling and some of her pianissimi in the Nile Scene ("La tra foreste virgini") were exquisite. I can understand why she had a recent triumph in Detroit as Norma. As a matter of fact, there are rumors the Met is doing Norma in 2007-2008 - I wonder if she'll be in the cast? I can't immediately think of anyone who could do justice to the role at the Met, although I would love for Angela Gheorghiu to try it in a smaller theater. Possibly Christine Goerke (fellow SUNY Stony Brook alumna!), who like Papian has had very good reviews for the role in regional houses. Although I wouldn't mind seeing what Jane Eaglen, who has been absent from the Met for a while, could do with the role under and actual conductor rather than an "insulator" like Carlo Rizzi... Actually, if there really is a Norma, I suspect that it will be for house darling Renée Fleming, who recorded (not well, I think) "Casta Diva" and is probably the biggest star they can get for the role.

Salvatore Licitra as Radames

Although I hadn't been that eager to hear Papian before the performance, I was eager to hear Salvatore Licitra live for the first time - the "plazacast" of his Met debut as Cavaradossi (where, as everyone knows, he replaced a flu-ridden Luciano Pavarotti) doesn't really count. At that time I thrilled to the warmth and beauty of his voice, particularly in Tosca's Act I Love Duet, enough that I was willing to forgive him some inartistic moments no doubt engendered by the circumstances of his debut. I was also mostly impressed with his first solo disc (the less said about his pop "duet" album with Marcelo Alvarez, the better), and would have been more so if it had been conducted by someone other than the aforementioned Mr. Rizzi. However, there were quite a few reports, mostly from Europe, that indicated that he could be a quite variable singer.

Admittedly Licitra did not seem quite warmed up for "Celeste Aida", which, of course, is what the majority of the audience is most interested in. This is a standard problem for any tenor considering that this very difficult aria is the first thing he sings. In fact, Jean de Reszke, considered by many to be one of the greatest tenors of the 19th Century, regularly cut it. His first high notes were tight and seemed to be coming from the back of his throat, though the final high B was vigorously sung and equally vigorously (and too automatically) applauded. I suppose it was too much to ask that Licitra would actually take this note "piano, pianissimo, morendo" as Verdi wrote it. Once past the aria, he was fine. On his solo disc he bore an uncanny vocal resemblance to Luciano Pavarotti; this is less evident on stage. While much of his voice was as warm and beautiful as it was in 2002, what most impressive here was the clarity and naturalness of his Italian, at a level that probably only a native can have. He's a fine actor, if just a bit physically stiff - he interacted believably with all the other cast members and his facial expressions were very convincing, but he needs that last touch of individuality and imagination. I regret that he and Papian sang the final "Si schiude il ciel" fortissimo rather than gorgeously pianissimo as many of the best interpreters (notably Milanov and Björling) did.

For better or worse, Licitra seems to be the Met's new "star tenor" around whom new productions are planned and who can get pretty much whatever he wants. His future engagements reportedly include Luigi in Il Tabarro for the new production of Il Trittico in 2006-2007 and Manrico in a new Il Trovatore in 2008-2009 in addition to Canio, Gustavo, and Dick Johnson. As talented as Licitra is, I think his ascent is largely due to political reasons. Joseph Volpe is pushing Licitra because Licitra made Volpe (not the Met - Volpe!) "look good" in the debacle of Pavarotti's Tosca cancellation, and no doubt incoming Met GM Peter Gelb, the former head of Licitra's record label Sony, will be equally generous to someone he knows and presumably loves.

Amneris is Dolora Zajick's greatest role, and by her admittedly titanic standards, her portrayal of Amneris this performance actually seemed ... almost small-voiced at the start - possibly an unannounced cold, or a slightly different manifestation of whatever was affecting the men. Nonetheless, hearing her "blood and guts" voice and portrayal is a joy in an era of too much vocal politeness, and she is genuinely exciting, never vulgar. I do think that Amneris is a much more sympathetic character than Zajick makes her, despite her pain in the Judgement Scene and remorse at the end. Most mezzos, including titans such as Fedora Barbieri and Giulietta Simionato, make Amneris into the villain of the piece, which I'm not quite sure is what Verdi wanted - after all, the opera was almost called Amneris. So far, though, Zajick's only serious competition in this role seems to be Olga Borodina, a somewhat smaller scale but very human Amneris.

Mark Rucker as Amonasro (opera house unknown)

I first heard Mark Rucker back in 1991 or 1992 as Renato in Un Ballo in Maschera, in a telecast from Philadelphia (with Pavarotti as Gustavo, of course - why else would it be telecast?) and was very impressed. I have been wondering for years when he would come to the Met and assume that he would have been there years ago if he wasn't African-American*, especially considering some less than stellar Amonasros in the recent past (Pons? Nucci? Sorry.) I figured if I noticed him, why hadn't the Met, who no doubt has tons of scouts? Well they finally did notice him when he sang Don Carlo in La Forza del Destino with the Collegiate Chorale, probably because they were there to see Licitra as Don Alvaro. Rucker was scheduled only for this one performance of Amonasro (same as for his debut in this role last season - just like every African-American singer except for Crider and Denyce Graves) and - whoopdeedoo! - he has two performances as Don Carlo, again opposite Licitra. Like virtually all the male soloists except Licitra, he seemed to be affected by dryness of voice (the weather might possibly be the culprit here). Because of this, I wondered if maybe the Met got him too late. If the voice wasn't overwhelming, Rucker was a good stage actor and clearly had considerable experience in the role. The good news is that per his website, he will be back next season for both Tonio in Pagliacci and the title role in Rigoletto. Let's hope he gets more than one performance of each this time. At least he isn't being relegated to "black" roles. The sound bites on his website of his Rigoletto sound very promising - powerful, dramatic, and passionate.

Paata Burchuladze has been a decent Grand Inquisitor in the past, but I usually haven't been very impressed with him and here he did nothing to revise my opinion of him upwards. His voice is hollow and his Italian is virtually unintelligible. He's reportedly doing Alvise in La Gioconda next season - for goodness sakes, Met management, if you can get Violeta Urmana, Roberto Alagna, Olga Borodina and Larissa Diadkova, can't you get a really world-class bass, or is four big stars enough?

Morris Robinson as the King of Egypt

Frankly, the role of Ramfis should have been sung by Morris Robinson. I first heard this phenomenal young bass in small roles (Mercury in Les Troyens and Second Nazarene in Salome), and immediately wanted to hear him graduate to the big ones. The voice is huge, even cavernous, well-focussed, and most importantly, instantly memorable. Tonight, however, like several other cast members, he was a bit dry in the beginning, and sounded better when singing from the front of the stage - the King is usually towards the back. Robinson sounds like many of the "black basses" of the past, such as Gottlob Frick, Matti Salminen, and maybe even Boris Christoff. And to those who might think that is a tasteless or even a racist pun, he is the only African-American bass I have ever heard who sounds like that - they tend to have very lyric voices - Paul Robeson, in my opinion, sounds a lot like turn-of-the-20th-century French basses such as Edouard de Reszke. However, the good news is that Robinson seems to be a singer the Met wants to promote, as he has represented them in various 9/11 commemoration events and has had quite a bit of publicity. His first major role, Sarastro, comes up in January and February 2006. My immediate impression is that this isn't that good an idea. Yes, Robinson's voice is amazing and he absolutely should be doing major roles, but so far I haven't heard the wisdom, warmth, and kindness Sarastro needs, even if he has the power and authority - he sounds like a villain. However, I'd cast him as the Grand Inquisitor, Fafnir, Hagen, or Kaspar in five seconds flat, and maybe Phillip in 10 years. Osmin or the Commendatore would probably be the best Mozart roles for him now, and I would love to hear him sing the "Tuba mirum" solo from the Requiem. He deserves, and will probably get, major stardom.

The usually reliable, and often excellent, comprimario tenor Ronald Naldi seemed affected by the same dryness as the other men as the Messenger, but Edyta Kulczak was an excellent Priestess. I am a little surprised that the Met is casting Kulczak, who is nominally a mezzo, in a soprano role, though she had no trouble with any of the high notes. Then again, 4 of my Met Priestesses either achieved or are on the way to stardom - and one of them is also a mezzo, Michelle De Young. The others are the aforementioned Christine Goerke, Sondra Radvanovsky, and Indra Thomas.

Oddly enough, James Conlon's conducting made absolutely no impression on me whatsoever, good or bad. Admittedly, I usually only notice conducting when it hits one of those extremes. But considering that Conlon is seriously rumored to be James Levine's replacement as Artistic Director when he leaves in 2011, I want to hear something that I can notice!

The production regularly gets slammed in the press and by some fans for its "Zefirellian excess", but I think that this opera, at least in the house the size of the Met, needs to be a spectacle, even though I usually hate it when the audience applauds scenery or the stage elevator. After all, much of the opera, and not just the Triumphal Scene, takes place in public. I would like to see a more intimate Aida, as it's essentially only about three people - Aida, Radames, and Amneris - but I'm worried that the overwhelming passion would be lost and the intimacy might be joined to directorial stupidity. (Robert Wilson directing Aida? Good grief, Tony, I practically worship you, but what were you thinking?)

Although I admit that I'm hardly a dance expert, I believe that the choreography is some of the worst I've ever seen at the Met, mostly terribly unimaginative and even silly (like the foot flexions timed to orchestral chords in the Triumphal Scene ballet or randomly waving arms in the Dance of the Moorish Slaves). I admit over repeated viewings - this is my sixth visit to this production - the Dance of the Moorish Slaves has grown on me. No doubt it is an attempt, successful or not, to recreate actual Egyptian dance. However, no fault for any of this can be laid at the dancers' feet (sorry) - they did a superb job with what they were given.

One very picky thing - while I certainly wouldn't want the Met to do an Al Jolson on her, I think Papian could have used a little more black makeup as Aida - she looked more very well tanned, possibly Arabic or even Egyptian, than Ethiopian.

I will try to see the spring performances as well, mainly for a repeat of Olga Borodina's Amneris, but I would also like to hear Johan Botha as Radames. He's no actor, but he has a lyric, clarion voice very reminiscent of Ben Heppner, and I have yet to hear him live in Italian opera. Next up at the Met: Cosi fan Tutte on Tuesday.

Finally, an amusing note. Apparently in the performance of Aida prior to this one, the horse that was drawing the chariot carrying Radames in the Triumphal Scene, er... had an accident. Or didn't think Licitra was worthy of being carried by him. At any rate, one of the extras in a loincloth came on with a bucket and a shovel. Hey, who knew that plastic was invented in ancient Egypt?

* I will be posting a tirade about the Met's treatment of African-American singers, especially the men. Eventually. By February for "Black History Month" at this rate!

"Falstaff" not quite so "Immenso" without Bryn

Falstaff

Music by Giuseppe Verdi, Libretto by Arrigo Boito

Performance of Saturday evening, October 22, 2005; the 175th Metropolitan Opera performance of the work; the final performance of the season.

Conductor: James Levine

Falstaff: Louis Otey (substituting for Bryn Terfel)
Ford: Roberto Frontali
Alice Ford: Patricia Racette
Meg Page: Maria Zifchak
Nannetta: Heidi Grant Murphy
Mistress Quickly: Stephanie Blythe
Bardolfo: Jean-Paul Fouchecourt (replaced after Act I, Scene I by John McVeigh)
Pistola: Mikhail Petrenko
Dr. Caius: Peter Bronder

Most of the professional reviews of the Met's latest revival of Falstaff were utter raves, saying it was not only the best performance of this opera in years, but one of the Met's greatest achievements in years, period, raving about the quality of the ensemble. Since I had already seen the production in 2002, and was not totally enamored of the casting of Frontali and Murphy, these reviews were what put this on my "must-see" list. The fact that a near orgy of buying musical events in late September considerably drained my purse, plus the Jewish High Holy Days, meant I had to delay Falstaff to either the October 15th or October 22nd performance. Unfortunately, I just "didn't feel like going" on October 15, so if I wanted to go at all, I had to go to last night's performance.

My eagle-eyed friend Brad Wilber, who runs the wonderful Met Future Season's page, let me know on Thursday that he had looked at the Met website and found that Terfel had cancelled - whether due to illness or wanting to go home to his family in Wales early, I have no idea - and was being replaced by Louis Otey. Despite an almost-ideal female cast, I was considering forgoing the Falstaff because of this. New York City Opera was performing Dukas' Ariane et Barbe-Bleu, an opera I had never seen live(1), and Saturday night was my last chance to see it. In the end, it was my Shabbat nap that made the decision for me - I woke up too late to arrive on time for NYCO's 7:30 performance!

Baritone Louis Otey, headshot (I could not find any pictures of him as Falstaff)

I first saw Otey about 12 years ago in The Student Prince at NYCO, as Dr. Engel (the title character's wise old tutor) and I think I've seen him there a few more times, although I can't be sure because I don't keep the kinds of records of my NYCO visits that I do of the Met, and they don't have an easily accessible performance database. I've definitely seen him at the Met as Fieramosca in Benvenuto Cellini and Carbon in Cyrano de Bergerac. It's hard enough under any circumstances to come into a performance at the end of the run, especially when it's a relatively unknown singer replacing a superstar, but Falstaff is probably the worst opera for this to happen because it's such a well-coordinated ensemble effort. Matters were not helped when at the end of the first scene, the pause to change the set went on, and on, and on, until finally the stage manager came out and announced that Jean-Paul Fouchecourt was injured during the scene change and to save time, they would be having the intermission now. As you can imagine, some of the performances energy was dissipated because of this, and the performance still ended almost half an hour late (2).

No doubt because of all that, it took some time for Otey to fully integrate himself with the rest of the cast, and initially his voice wasn't quite big enough to ride over the orchestra. After the enforced break, however, either he was more warmed up, or Levine was better able to judge how far to take down the orchestra to better accomodate him. The problem ultimately was though Otey has a good, solid bass-baritone voice and he's a decent actor who eventually interacted very well with his stagemates, he simply doesn't have an instantly recognizable instrument or the overwhelming presence and charisma that someone like Terfel can bring to this role, and what this role needs. It was also too obvious that this Falstaff was a relatively slender man in a fat suit.





Roberto Frontali was a real surprise. I first saw him as a bright, likeable Figaro in Il Barbiere di Siviglia in 1995, but on both broadcasts and recordings - most recently a duet disc with the wonderful Ramon Vargas, he has been something of a dull dog, especially in Verdi. Seeing him live for the first time in 10 years, I was shocked by how fine a Verdian he seems. It may simply be that microphones, whether studio or stage, don't do justice to his voice. Frontali's voice here had real core, presence and bite, and "E sogno? O realta?" was a dramatic tour-de-force. He also did a good job of capturing Ford's officiousness, and later chagrin and repentance.

The Merry Wives of Windsor (l. to r.): Maria Zifchak as Meg Page, Heidi Grant Murphy as Nannetta, Stephanie Blythe as Mistress Quickly, and Patricia Racette as Alice Ford.

The Merry Wives were indeed a fabulous group. While I don't think Patricia Racette has the je ne sais quoi that makes a great soprano, I have always seen her as a thoughtful, intelligent artist whose performances are always worth attending, although not necessarily running to. Her radiant top was effective here in conveying both high spirits and pathos. While listening to this I kept thinking that she would make an excellent Elisabetta in Don Carlo. And since she's done Butterfly in both Houston and on the West Coast, is it too much to ask that she does it at the Met? We're not exactly drowning in great Butterflies, especially as the most worthy candidate (you know who!) will never do it!

Unfortunately for Maria Zifchak, Meg Page is a role where it is very easy for the singer to get lost in the ensemble, the same happened with the wonderful and grossly underrrated Suzanne Mentzer in my previous outing. Nevertheless what I was able to make out from her was of very high quality.

Other than Frontali's Ford, the other big surprise for me was just how good a Nannetta Heidi Grant Murphy was. I tend not to like "soubrette" voices, as much as I may admire the artistry of those who have them, preferring a fuller sound - Barbara Bonney is as light as I normally would like in this sort of repertory, although I am quickly warming to the marvelous Isabel Bayrakdarian. Murphy previously struck me as particularly "white-voiced" as Servilia in La Clemenza di Tito, even though that did serve to bring out the character's innocence and sweetness. These qualities, as well as romantic ardor and mischief, were more than evident here, but this time Murphy's voice seemed fuller than on previous outings, and unlike Camilla Tilling in 2002, totally even throughout her range. Her "Fairy Song" in the last act was truly magical.

As her lover, Matthew Polenzani didn't have quite the level of honeyed sweetness I would like (his pianissimi need a little work), but sang beautifully and was both ardent and totally believable. So far he's the most promising American lyric tenor in some time - I only hope that he doesn't ruin his immense potential the way Paul Groves and (sniff!) Gregory Turay seem to have.

As far as I'm concerned, however, the star of the show was contralto (yes! a true contralto, not "just" a mezzo-soprano) Stephanie Blythe. While her performance of Mistress Quickly in 2002 was excellent, here it was spectacular. Here she showed a rich, plummy, booming sound, with magnificent comic chops - particularly in the scenes with Otey and the moments where she is spoofing Falstaff to the other Merry Wives, as well as her "witchy" behavior in the final act - and the ability to truly command the stage. Blythe is probably greatest American singer under 50 before the public today - and the only one who actually deserves all the attention she gets, if not more. A protegee of Marilyn Horne, Blythe is rightly called by many people her heir and even sounds uncannily like her. I first noticed her ten years ago when she was still in the Met's Young Artists Program, thrilled with joy over her star-making Cornelias in 1999 and 2000 and have watched her continue to grow. Note that you might want to read my review on Amazon of her stunning Handel and Bach disc; unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to buy her Brahms/Mahler/Wagner lieder album.

While John McVeigh couldn't make Bardolfo memorable the way Fouchècourt did in 2002 - the difference between Act I and what followed was palpable, he sang and acted the part well. His voice is perhaps a bit too sweet for this ne'er-do-well. Mikhail Petrenko sonorous, dark grained bass did make Pistola memorable. British tenor Peter Bronder, who made his debut on the first night of the run, created an incisive portrait of Dr. Caius and I hope to see him back at the Met in other character roles.

The "refurbishment" of this production done for the 2001-2002 "Verdi Season" was my first encounter with this production. Basically. Considering that Nicolas Hytner created an absolutely wonderful production of The Magic Flute for the English National Opera, and some excellent Handel stagings, what could have he come up for Falstaff which would have aroused such ire not only from James Levine but also from Met Technical director Joseph Clark?

If not the "performance for the ages" that this might have been with Terfel's presence and without Fouchècourt's injury, it was still a rewarding evening. I would also like to see more of Otey at the Met, and not necessarily just in comprimario roles. The King of Egypt in Aida would be an excellent fit for him - and maybe more Verdi work at New York City Opera?

(1) I did see a concert version of the opera, mainly because Marion Capriotti, a friend I have since lost touch with who is a wonderful contralto, sang the Nurse. She also sang the Mistress of the Novices in NYCO's Suor Angelica, covered the Alto Voice in Moses und Aron at the Met, and substituted for Florence Quivar in a concert performance of Massenet's Cleopatre. I can't remember who sang Ariane, or even which company presented the concert at Alice Tully Hall.

(2) Something similar happened back in February 2000 when I went to London to see Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu sing in Roméo et Juliette at Covent Garden, among other operatic delights (La Boheme with Ramon Vargas and Elena Kelessidi, also at the Royal Opera, and H.M.S Pinafore at the Savoy Theater). After Act I the stage machinery got stuck and the backstage staff had to spend about half-an hour repairing it, forcing an extra interval. A lot of the energy was drained out of the performance and it ended 45 minutes late - Tito Beltran, the Tybalt, went home early without taking a curtain call. Fortunately, I had a ticket for a subsequent performance that really was one for the ages.

How nice!

I went up to Avery Fisher Hall this morning to purchase my ticket for the New York Philharmonic's New Year's Eve Gala with Angela Gheorghiu. This is the first day that tickets for the season went on sale so the line was pretty long, rather to my horror as I had to be at work at 11:00 AM and I pretty much had to be out of there by 10:15 if I wanted to be sure I'd be at work on time. To my delight, Philharmonic employees were passing out pieces of pound cake and water or soda to the people on line! I suppose this was being done because it was the first day, but it was an extraordinarily thoughtful gesture, and the cake was superb, really rich and buttery. It reminds me of stories about how in the days of Rudolf Bing's rulership of the Met he used to order coffee to be served to the people on the Standing Room line in the wintertime. Not a gesture I would have expected from him, and I can't remotely imagine Joseph Volpe doing something like that! Admittedly, I think the standee line is inside on the concourse in the winter.

This almost makes up for having to drink the dreadful water that comes out of Avery Fisher Hall's fountains. I had considered writing a protest letter to the Phiharmonic demanding that they get a water filtering system or a water cooler, but, as I should have realized, they're trying to force the patrons to buy the bottled water from the refreshment stands.

There were other tickets I would have liked to buy for the Philharmonic, such as concerts conducted by Marin Alsop and Xian Zhang, but I only had so much money, and Angela, of course, was the priority!

(I did get to work about 5 minutes late. No big whoop. They're pretty relaxed on Sunday.)

I AM EMPLOYED!

I FINALLY A GOT A NEW, REAL JOB!!!!!

Nope, not a temp job, not a temp-to-perm job, but a real, full-time, permanent job working as a Claims Service Representative for the New York State Insurance Fund. Even better, it's a civil service position, which means if you basically come to work on time and do a decent job, they can't fire you. There is a two year probation period, but I still think I'd have to have a pretty major screwup before they'd get rid of me - apparently only 2 or 3 people have been let go before the end of the probation in the past 10 years. I've probably got a job for life! And fabulous benefits! And a PENSION!

Yes, this was the interview I mentioned in my August 1st post - there was also another interview for a Resource and Reimbursement Specialist with the Office of Mental Retardation and Developmental Disabilities. This actually looked a little more interesting considering I did briefly work in the development office of a non-profit that provided services to the developmentally disabled, and the office was within reasonable walking distance of my house. But they never got back to me. I got a call about a week and half ago from NYSIF asking me if I was interested in the job and of course I said yes, but the manager said he had to send a bunch of paperwork up to Albany to confirm it. Since (I suppose) there was always the possibility that the high muckety-mucks in Albany might have said no to my appointment, I decided not to count my chickens until they were hatched. Well, the manager called today and formally offered the job, and I start on September 8. Basically, I'll be a case manager for worker's compensation cases, making sure the injured claimant gets benefits and medical care if warranted. There are a lot of complicated legal and medical issues involved, not to mention tons of forms and procedures, and there will be about 3 months of classroom and on-the-job training before they start giving me a caseload.

For fifteen years since leaving college, due to my wanting to have an acting career, the bad economy, my own immaturity and the occasional stupid decision, my work experience has been mainly low-paying market research jobs and temporary secretarial work. I have spent a lot of time unemployed and even two months on welfare. I've never made more than $27,000 a year and often much less. Well, that's all over. Let's just say that my starting pay, as a trainee, is about $34,000 - and that's going to go up to $46,000 when the traineeship ends in two years! Plenty of money to go to opera in cities besides New York and maybe even follow certain talented singers around within reason. And maybe do such unimportant things as paying off my debts and getting my own apartment.

The only downside is, as I said when I went for the interviews, that I'm actually not getting my first paycheck until October (they hold the pay for the first few weeks until you retire or otherwise leave - no idea why, some union rule), so no "luxuries", really, except for standing room for the Met's Opening Night. It'll be a while before I can buy tickets to Rigoletto with Rolando Villazon and Anna Netrebko (and Carlo Guelfi) and La Traviata with Angela Gheorghiu, the two operas that I consider worth sitting in the Balcony for as opposed to my usual Family Circle Standing Room. As it is I've been working lots of overtime at my current job and will still work nights for a few weeks - quite to my shock, the management there loves me and is begging me to stay! It's nice to feel needed.

And I just hope that the actual job is interesting, and that I'm not condemning myself to 30 years of slavery.

(By the way, one of my colleagues at the proxy solicitation firm is a manager at NYSIF during the day, and he's been giving me a few pointers - apparently even a manager's salary can't cover the cost of raising five kids in New York City, so he needs a second job!)

For those of you who are old friends but new to this blog, I know a lot of you have followed my job woes for a long time, and so I say: thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for your support!. YAHOOO! Baruch Hashem!

Kenneth Branagh to direct "The Magic Flute"!

Well, this looks like something to look forward to!

Since Kenneth Branagh burst on the scene in 1989 with his adaption of Henry V, probably the greatest adaptation of a Shakespeare play on film (and oy, how I regret that I never got a chance to see it on the big screen!), I've been a big fan of his. I doubt that this will be a "traditional" production set in ancient Egypt or some generalized "mystical" setting or even, like many productions, set roughly in the time of the opera's composition. After all, neither Branagh's version of Much Ado About Nothing or Hamlet take place in the 16th Century, and he updated Love's Labour Lost (which I haven't seen) to make it a 1930's musical. Since the first two films were brilliant - in fact, I would say Much Ado About Nothing is one of the most beautiful, joyous, life-affirming films of the 1990s, even a time-transplanted Flute shouldn't be a problem. Interestingly, one report referred to Pamina's mother as "Queen Elizabeth of the Night", so Branagh might be putting this in an Elizabethan setting. This might actually work - remember that the Queen of the Night is a critical allegory of the Empress Maria Theresa, and Elizabeth was just as much a tyrant (albeit a somewhat more benevolent one) as she was. As long as this film has the sense of fantasy, wonder and mystery which is essential in this opera, we shouldn't have a problem.

And remember how I said that Stephen Fry would be a wonderful librettist for a Harry Potter opera? Well, now he'll have the experience, as he is adapting the libretto here. As I said in that post, he is a big classical music fan and one of the classiest, wittiest people in the business. I only hope even he can do something with lines like "Great Sarastro, we admire your wise discourse" (I don't remember the German here - that's the Ruth and Thomas Martin translation.

The starriest names in the cast are likely René Pape (the real "divine René") as Sarastro and Lyubov Petrova, whose Met roles include Zerbinetta, Oscar and Sophie in Werther, as the Queen of the Night. Joseph Kaiser, a member of the Lyric Opera (of Chicago) Center for American Artists and a winner of this year's Met Auditions, will sing Tamino. He sang "Dies bildnis ist bezaubernschön" at the Auditions Concert, and while the voice is a little nasal for my taste, he's a superb actor. Russian opera, such as Lensky's aria "Kuda, kuda", seems to suit him a bit better vocally. He also sang Rodolfo in Baz Luhrmann's Broadway version of La Boheme.

The others are perhaps a little more cause for concern. Ben Davis, who sings Papageno, is like Kaiser a former member of Baz Luhrmann's Boheme, but his only other credits are in Broadway musicals (Les Miserables and Thoroughly Modern Millie) and I'm not sure this is necessarily the right voice for an opera, especially considering the extensive miking that goes on on Broadway today. Amy Carson, who is described only as a "newcomer" will be singing Pamina.

No word on remainder of cast, conductor, orchestra, or release date as of yet. Stay tuned.

Domingo and Villazon together: is this a good idea?

I just heard that the Los Angeles Opera has commissioned a new opera based on the film Il Postino, to premiere in 2009. It will be written by Mexican composer Daniel Catán (best known for Florencia en Amazonas, a recent operatic composition that has had wonderful reviews, good audience response, a complete recording, and probably most importantly, multiple revivals) and star Placido Domingo, who will create the role of Pablo Neruda, and Rolando Villazon, who will create the title role of Mario, Neruda's personal postman.

I have some skepticism here. I probably won't be able to make any kind of reasonable judgement of the opera until I both hear more of Catán's work and see the movie the opera is based on (and maybe even read some Neruda!), but I wonder if this is a good idea. Vocally, Villazon is so close to Domingo that he might as well be a clone, and I think that this is the main reason (plus the fact that he is Not Roberto Alagna) that he is getting so much gush. More to the point, I don't think there will be enough vocal contrast between the two singers. If the tenors were portraying father and son, that might work. It might have been a better idea to have a baritone sing Mario, or perhaps to have in the role one of Domingo's other Spanish-speaking protegès, such as Aquiles Machado or Tito Beltran, both of whom have lighter and more lyric voices than Domingo or Villazon.

And yes, folks, we all know that Placido Domingo is in fabulous voice for a man his age. He's in pretty darned good voice for a man half his age. As blasphemous as others may deem this, I think that he should retire now while he is still in such good voice and we're all saying "Placido! Why did you leave us? We love you!" rather than "Luciano, go away already!" And frankly, he's in the way of a lot of younger tenors - at the rate he's going, he probably won't retire until Roberto Alagna and Ramon Vargas and Marcello Giordani and Jose Cura and Marcelo Alvarez are close to or even past 50, and poor Ben Heppner nearly 60. I think the reason that Villazon (and possibly Juan Diego Flòrez) might prevail in these artificially created "tenor wars" is that they are the only ones young enough not to be swallowed up by Domingo's shadow.

Nevertheless, there is something to be said for star power - almost certainly this will lead to a sold out house and possibly a recording of the opera. I must admit the concept is intriguing, and I do like both singers. And as always, I'd much rather see a singer, even one I don't always like, have a triumph than fail and have nasty people tittering behind their back. Most importantly, the more new operas get performed, the greater chance that at least one of them will be worthy of becoming a classic of the new century.

Addio, diletta California!

Angela Gheorghiu and Roberto Alagna with Placido Domingo, in his capacity as Boss of the Los Angeles Opera, after a performance of La Boheme last December.

It turns out that I will not, after all, be going to Los Angeles in September to see Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu (and fantastic Polish baritone Mariusz Kwiecen as Silvio!) in Pagliacci. In the end, I really don't have the money. My long-term temp job (calling up company stockholders and asking them to either vote proxies for annual meetings or to participate in stock tender offers) is going through a slow period, and although I bless my bosses for keeping me and my colleagues working, the only way they can do that is by reducing our hours. I also just went on some interviews for jobs at various state agencies (I took the "Professional Careers" New York State civil service test back in February and got a virtually perfect score), and was told if I get the job, I won't actually get my first paycheck until a month later! That means October minimum. So if I get one of these jobs, I'll have to save up to last from leaving my current job to the first paycheck in the new one, and if not, well, I just hope things at this one pick up quickly.

I will content myself, hopefully, with Angela's Tosca at the Met's Opening Night Gala and her Violetta in February. Assuming, of course, Joseph Volpe doesn't have some scheme to throw her out Kathleen Battle-style in order to make himself a "hero" to the press to coincide with his leaving. And there is the New York Philharmonic's New Year's Eve Gala and possibly the Philadelphia Orchestra's gala in January. Roberto, unfortunately, is going to have to wait for Enzo in La Gioconda in Fall 2006 (although if I really get some kind of monetary windfall, I might consider going to see him in Aida at Orange next July). Unfortunately, he is not doing Tosca with Angela at Covent Garden (Marcelo Alvarez is). I have the feeling this is the fault of his manager, about whom the less said the better.

And Roberto has a new coming out this fall of music associated with French pop-operetta singer Luis Mariano, which looks like a cross between Marcelo Alvarez' Gardel CD and Susan Graham's French operetta CD. And hopefully by Hanukkah I'll have a new TV and a DVD player and can enjoy him and Angela that way...

Harry Potter And The Muggle Opera Lover

I mentioned in my first post to this blog that I would be overjoyed to see a good operatic version of Harry Potter. Many of the greatest operas, after all, are essentially myth and fantasy, and the saga's struggle between good and evil, vivid characters, humor, and emotional resonance would make it an ideal subject for an opera. There was an irresistible post on Opera-L a few months back about imaginary Harry Potter operas written by the great composers, such as Mozart's Harry Potter and the Marriage of Figaro and or Wagner's Harry Potter and the Mastersingers of Nuremberg ("ten Galleons says that Ron can't succeed in a Muggle singing contest"). What I am proposing, however, is an actual opera, or more accurately a cycle of 7 operas, based on the Harry Potter books. And while I would not want this to be used merely as a gimmick to bring children and teens into the opera house, their extra participation would be a nice bonus.

Who to compose? The most likely candidate might very well be Patrick Doyle, who is actually replacing John Williams as composer on Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. Doyle (who is Welsh) is not only one of the best composers working in Hollywood, but he has an excellent feel for vocal and choral music. I have long thought that he should write an opera. A few years ago I heard that he had been commisioned to write an opera about the late Queen Mum, but I don't know what if anything has become of that. He also has a rather pleasant tenor voice, by the way. I believe he has sung in all the films he has composed for - I know for a fact that he was in Henry V (where he led off the stunning "Non nobis, Domine") and in Much Ado About Nothing he played the musician Balthazar in addition to singing "Sigh, no more ladies" and "Pardon, goddess of the night". Maybe we can give him a small role in the opera! Another possibility might be Rachel Portman, another fine film composer who just wrote an opera based on another great "children's" book, The Little Prince. I do think, though, that the "Double, double toil and trouble" chorus from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban should remain in the opera and perhaps be further adapted and expanded, with due credit being given to John Williams. As a matter of fact, as I mentioned in my previous post about my operatic encounters at the movies, I'd be interested to see what Williams, who has had some fine choral writing in some of his recent films, might make of an entire opera.

Joanne Rowling would have to have a hand in the libretto, of course, but for co-librettist I would nominate Stephen Fry. He is of course intimately familiar with this universe as he is the voice for all the British editions of the Harry Potter audiobooks. Not only that, but also as an actor and as a writer he has plenty of science fiction and fantasy experience in addition to Harry Potter. Most recently, he was the Voice of the Book in the film version of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and I am delighted to report that he is writing one of next season's episodes of Doctor Who (now if only we can get the new Who in the US!). I believe that in America he is most famous for various incarnations of Lord Melchett in the four Blackadder series, which is sort of historical fantasy and has the same kind of humor as Harry Potter. He is also a classical music buff who hosts a show for Classic FM. Having had some experience with this radio station and their wretched "magazine", I imagine he's the classiest thing on it!

I don't care who directs/produces it, as long as it isn't a "Eurotrash" director who will put lots of unnecessary sex and violence in it and is someone who will remain true to the spirit of the books. And someone who understands children. Tempted as I may be to have Antonio Pappano conduct anything, I'm not sure this would be his cup of tea - to the best of my knowledge, unlike some other conductors, he has never programmed film music in his orchestral concerts (1). Maybe Simon Rattle, who conducted Doyle's score for Henry V.

Now to the part that we're all really interested in - the casting! When I proposed the idea to a young soprano friend of mine, she volunteered to sing Hermione, on the condition that Juan Diego Florez played Harry and Roberto Alagna played Ron! Weelll.... I suppose that if you put the right wig and glasses on Juan Diego he would sort of look like Dan Radcliffe and Roberto is a redhead, albeit he would probably have to wear a pretty serious pair of elevator shoes to be tall enough for Ron. But at least until we get up to Order of the Phoenix or Half-Blood Prince when the character's voices change (2), the children should be sung as children - either by trebles for all or mezzos for the boys and sopranos for the girls.

Also, since these operas will be in English, I really think that the singers should all be native English speakers if not actually from the British Isles, at least for the first production, except for foreign characters such as Madame Maxime. Although considering his very strong resemblance to Jason Isaacs, I was thinking of Dmitri Hvorostovsky for Lucius Malfoy(3)! And I'm sorely tempted to drop the English-only rule and have Rene Pape as Dumbledore.

There is, of course, one absolutely essential piece of casting, and indeed he was the inspiration for the whole idea. Bryn Terfel absolutely, positively has to sing Hagrid! As a matter of fact, he agrees with me - he was quoted in BBC Music Magazine recently as saying "Oh, yes! I am Hagrid! Hagrid is me!". Yes, I know Terfel's native language is Welsh, not English, but especially considering that Hagrid is from the North Country, that's probably close enough. The problem is that I think I would also want him for both Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody, especially the latter.

If we do have adult women sing all the kids, I'm thinking of rising young Handel soprano Emma Bell for Hermione. There are also some fine young British mezzos who could handle the various young men (Harry, Ron, Draco, etc), although I'm not sure which should go with which: Alice Coote (the heir to Janet Baker?), Victoria Simonds, and Christine Rice. If we go with kids, they should be unknowns. What happens, however, when we get to the operas for Order of The Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince, and the as-yet-unnamed seventh book? Should Hermione be a mezzo or a soprano? I think Harry and Ron should have different voice types, but I'm not sure who should be the tenor and who the baritone. At this point I'll say Harry should be the baritone and Ron the tenor, because that seems to be the way Daniel Radcliffe's and Rupert Grint's speaking voices are going.

Since Herr Pape has been barred, a proper British choice for Dumbledore would probably be John Tomlinson. Another possibility, although probably better for a revival than a premiere, would be Willard White. If he doesn't sing Dumbledore, he'd be luxury casting as Kingsley Shacklebolt. I think Felicity Palmer, with both her authority and comic chops, would be an excellent choice for Professor McGonagall. Of course, we have to put Simon Keenlyside in almost any British opera, and I think he'd be ideal for Lupin. Maybe Della Jones for Professor Sprout. And the shortest tenor we can find for Flitwick (unfortunately, again, the name that comes to mind is not an Englishman - magnificent French character tenor Jean-Paul Fouchecourt, who I think is barely 5 feet tall)

The most important gaps at this point are Snape and Sirius. I think a baritone for the former and a tenor for the later, but I can't think of any names right offhand. Also, a good comic bass and mezzo for the Dursleys - Della Jones for Petunia, possibly.

I'm also vacillating about whether Voldemort should be a countertenor (due to his extremely high-pitched laugh) a character tenor, or even the more traditionally villainous baritone or bass. Possibly in the "first" opera, where Voldemort and Quirrell could be a dual role, a countertenor might be an interesting idea.

Peter Pettigrew should definitely be a character tenor - Graham Clark (one of the best Mimes) would probably be a good choice, although the young American David Cangelosi (a very promising Mime and a fabulous Spoletta in the Benoit Jacquot Tosca film) or the Fillipino Rodell Rosel, who just won the Met Auditions, is a member of Chicago's Young Artist Program and I have no doubt is on the brink of a major career might be even better - Rosel's English is virtually unaccented, too. Four-odd months after the Auditions Concert, I can still hear him singing "Aria of the Worm" from John Corigliano's The Ghost's of Versailles in my head. Perhaps Mr. Rosel can sing Pettigrew and Mr. Cangelosi Barty Crouch, Jr.

Now for cameo roles. Deborah Voigt for the Fat Lady. No, that is absolutely not meant as a personal attack and of course now she would have to wear a lot of padding. I thought of Voigt because in the movies the Fat Lady is played by Dawn French, who wore a wig that made her look a lot like the soprano on the cover of her Obsessions album. You may also remember that the Fat Lady, per the Prisoner of Azaban movie, is something of an opera singer. I am very tempted to nominate one particular friend of mine - not a singer- as Luna Lovegood because she's even more cuckoo and otherwordly, but that's too nasty. Although I said that I would be willing to have a French singer portray Madame Maxime, I'm beginning to think that the best choice for the role is an American, Stephanie Blythe. She has an excellent rapport with Bryn (they've been Falstaff and Mistress Quickly together many times) and her sung French is wonderful. She is also a magnificent comic actress with an enormous presence. And she is, physically, a very big woman - not just wide, but tall, probably almost 6 feet (I remember how in Rodelinda Renée Fleming looked like an absolute waif by comparison!). As for genuine Frenchwomen, how about Natalie Dessay in a blonde wig for Fleur? Or perhaps, to make up for not having Roberto Alagna as Ron, perhaps his genuinely blonde sister-in-law, Nathalie Manfrino? Powerhouse Bulgarian basso Vitaly Kolwaljow would be appropriately scary as Karkaroff, and although he's Polish, not Bulgarian, the handsome and talented Marius Kwiecen would be fine as Krum.

Lastly, I nominate my aforementioned young soprano friend Lullalit Supatravanij (she's Thai) as Cho Chang. This is "blind" (deaf?) casting as I haven't actually heard her sing yet! For those who would insist on an established professional, there are some fabulous singers now coming out of the Far East, mostly China and Korea, although they are mostly lower voices (1997 Cardiff Singer of the World Winner mezzo Guang Yang, wow!), not the soprano I think Cho should be. The wonderful Ying Huang (when is she coming to the Met?), maybe. And we can let Lulu sing Hermione in the revival.

This, of course, is all off the top of my head. No doubt more ideas will come into my head as I keep rereading the books, seeing the movies (especially Goblet of Fire in November), and encountering more "English" singers at the opera.



(1) I should point out that backstage after his New York Philharmonic debut, I did see Tony being very sweet to a girl of about 9 or 10, presumably the daughter of a friend. So he clearly likes children, even if he and his wife don't have any, and he has apparently lead youth orchestras with great skill and enthusiasm. So he undoutedly has the "child-friendliness" required.

(2) I am actually rather surprised that JKR didn't deal with the issue of the boys' voices changing in the books. Although her wizards speak (or think) rather than sing their spells, it occurs to me that a voice suddenly going up or down in register might affect an incantation, possibly to comic effect. So far music itself doesn't seem to have been dealt with much by JKR either, apart the enchanted harp and Hagrid's flute being used to put the three-headed dog Fluffy to sleep. Admittedly, Dumbledore "enjoys chamber music" (it was never specified whether as a performer or as a listener) and the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone creator Nicholas Flamel is an opera fan. Also at least in the movies, Hogwarts has a chorus. We also hear from popular singing witch Celestina Warbeck (who in Half-Blood Prince strikes me more as an Ella Fitzgerald-type than the Kathleen Ferrier-type I had originally envisioned). Unfortunately, the wildly popular "Weird Sisters", which in the book version of Goblet of Fire seem to be sort of a new-age folk type of ensemble (lute, drums, cello, bagpipes), reportedly will be a punk band in the film.

(3) Actually, a few years ago, I think I ran into Dmitri Hvorostovsky in the Lincoln Center area, and for several seconds wasn't sure whether it was him or Isaacs!

More than just the Placido Domingo show

Because I do not have my own computer, my only access to the Internet is either at work or at various internet cafes. I can only use my computer at work for personal pursuits during my lunch hour, so I usually spend most Sundays at an internet cafe called "Netzone" on 32nd Street between Broadway and 5th Avenue. This is basically the only place I can listen to internet radio broadcasts and anything else with sound. There are only two drawbacks to being here - one is I tend to get distracted from my actual "work" (i.e writing and E-mails and occasionally critiques for the various science fiction writing forums) with the many wonderful games on Yahoo and MSN or with surfing, the other is that Netzone plays a lot of very loud music, mostly either rap (complete with profanity and racist lyrics) or candy-apple rock (in Korean, yet! Although there was a nice riff on Grieg's "Solveig Song" in there somewhere), which interferes with listening to classical music and opera no matter how loud I turn up the computer or the earphones. It's usually OK when the broadcast is at reasonable volume, but a lot of singer pianissimis, as well as orchestral subtleties, get lost. Still, this cafe charges only $15 for a whole day (up to about 16 hours), it's comfortable, and the only remotely similar-priced internet cafe (EasyEverything on 42nd Street) is a rip-off where half the computers don't work and there's no access to internet broadcasts at all.

It was under these circumstances that I was listening to what seemed to be an otherwise superb reading of Die Walküre from the BBC Proms on Sunday - the BBC, bless them, archives their broadcasts for up to a week. In addition to the noise distractions, I was also concentrating on writing this blog's first post, so I wasn't giving the opera quite the attention it deserved. Also, there were several server problems that made me have to start the broadcast over from the beginning and fast forward - unfortunately, the BBC's media player fast-forwards only in increments of 5 and 15 minutes and doesn't rewind. Therefore, what follows is more random thoughts than a true "review".

That said, I could see why the reviews in the British press were raves. I've already mentioned how much I love Covent Garden's new Music Director, Antonio Pappano (universally known as Tony). Having heard him conduct excerpts from Tristan und Isolde, Siegfried, and Götterdämmerung on the two Wagner discs he did with Placido Domingo, I was eager to hear how he would handle an entire Wagner opera, especially considering that it was as a Wagner conductor that he first won international acclaim when he replaced Christoph von Dohnanyi for Siegfried in Vienna in 1993. Some critics who saw Pappano conducting the same forces at the Royal Opera House the week before complained that while he got all the individual moments right, he didn't "connect" them enough to bring out the architecture of the entire opera. That might actually be true, but I think, again, that if I sensed that at all it might simply be because I couldn't give the opera my full attention. Pappano's usual qualities - passion, drama, warmth, immediacy, sympathy for and intense support of singers - made the performance electric, particularly in the love music of the first act. I was also struck by just how much the opening sounded like a driving rainstorm, with each cello note an individual drop beating on a rooftop.

As eager as I was to hear Pappano conduct this opera, I was even more eager to hear Bryn Terfel sing his first Wotans. While I'll admit he came off better than he did on his Wagner album under Abbado (a great conductor, of course, but I'm not quite convinced of him as a Wagnerian), he didn't sound like he has quite enough power and authority to be ideal for the role yet - a bit of a surprise considering the magnificent Dutchman monologue he recorded on his Opera Arias CD with James Levine, and his voice seemed a little smaller than on other broadcasts/recordings or in live performance. This might be due to the size of Royal Albert Hall - 6,000 seats. I did notice some telling word-painting, and if I were intimately familiar with the opera or had a libretto in front of me I would have been able to appreciate it more. Wotan's Farewell, though, was magnificent, full of passion and sorrow (I personally, would have taken the last "Leb'wohl!" pianissimo, but that's really picky). And his cry of "GEH!" when he kills Hunding sent chills up my spine. Still, whether Wotan will indeed be Terfel's greatest role as many thought at the beginning of his career, or if he will be this century's first great Wotan, still remains to be seen.

As for the title role, I was at Lisa Gasteen's Met debut as Aida in 1997, and was very disappointed that she did not come back until just this past season - as Sieglinde. She was a little shaky in the "Hojotoho!"s, but the rest of the role is virtually at mezzo level. She struck me as very competent but not overwhelming; she was most impressive during the Death Annunciation scene. Incidentally, it was at this point when the computer got "stuck" and RealPlayer was playing the exact same phrase over and over again. I would like to give Gasteen another chance with Brünnhilde, and ideally to hear this under better circumstances, but I think Verdi suits her better. I'd like to see what Violeta Urmana or possibly Nina Stemme could do with the role.

I find Waltraud Meier far more convincing in German soprano roles than in French mezzo roles. For one thing, her lower register is the weakest part of her voice, often sounding rather curdled. I don't know whether this was planned or not, but the quality of Meier's voice suggested that Sieglinde is a not a sweet young innocent but a middle-aged woman who had been trapped in a miserable marriage to Hunding for many years, rejuvenated by her love for Siegfried. I prefer a brighter, fresher, "younger" voice in this role, but Meier's characterization more than made up for any vocal flaws - rather like her Eboli on the DVD of Don Carlos. I am now very interested to hear her Kundry in Parsifal, reputedly her greatest role, when she does it at the Met in May 2006.

I remember being shocked at just how good a singer of Wagner Placido Domingo is when I saw him do Siegmund at the Met in 1997. His two aforementioned Wagner albums with Tony only escalated this impression, and his Parsifal (also at the Met, in 2004) was nothing to sneeze at either. I don't think his Siegmund here was quite on the level if the one at the Met but still very, very good. As a matter of fact, I think I prefer him in German opera to Italian or French, at least at this point in his career. Even though German isn't exactly his best language, Domingo's voice is more sheerly beautiful than that of many heldentenors, and he brings a lyricism to this music - particularly wonderful in the first act - that some of them can't or won't. And yes, as we all know, he's 64 and sounds 20 years younger. Certainly his cries of "Wälse! Wälse!" make this horrendously difficult moment sound like the easiest thing in the world. His best work, though, like that of Gasteen's, was in the Death Annunciation scene, in Siegmund's rejection of Valhalla because he would never see Sieglinde again.

I confess, though that the singer who most made me sit up and take notice in terms of sheer voice was Rosalind Plowright. I had not heard much of her as a soprano, but I know she had an excellent reputation - she recorded Il Trovatore with Domingo under Giulini about 20 years ago. She recently (I think within the last 5 years) made the transition to mezzo-soprano, and it suits her very well. I didn't notice details of characterization, but the voice is rich, warm and powerful, almost contraltoish. I'm definitely going to seek out more of her soprano work. Erik Halvarson was an appropriately black-voiced, nasty Hagen. The Valkyries were all very good but nobody stood out from the others.

What really bothered me here was the fact that the BBC announcers seemed desperate to turn this into The Placido Domingo Show. Even worse, they can't even pronounce his name properly! The first syllable has the "a" in "car", not the "a" in "cat", guys! * I am aware that Domingo was the biggest star in the cast, although Bryn and Tony are well on their way up there and Gasteen and Plowright are certainly very well thought of in England if not quite major international stars. And yes, this was Domingo's very long-awaited Proms debut, and I doubt that there is really anyone else today who can sing Siegmund as well as he can (except possibly Ben Heppner, who I don't think will do it). But I found the implication that no one else involved with this concert was worthy of interest, or that everyone listening has to be a slavering Domingo fan with no interest in anything but their idol, including what he is actually singing, insulting - and frankly, it diminishes Domingo as well. Unfortunately, in the case of the Proms audience, I suspect it's at least partially true - apparently there were quite a few people who left after Domingo was finished in Act II to try to get his autograph (and missed "The Ride of the Valkyries"???). I am not certain because I fast forwarded most of the intermission features, but I believe that Domingo was the only member of the cast interviewed (everyone else was "talking heads"). On the other hand, everybody else was very well applauded, and Tony got the biggest hand of the night - even the announcer admitted that he was the hero of the hour.

Again, since I was listening to this on a Sunday and the broadcast "expired" the day after, I deeply regret that I was not able to listen to it more than once or go back and review certain things. I'm sure that plenty of people will have recorded the broadcast and I can borrow or trade for someone's copy, so I can listen to this in more detail with a libretto. I'm looking forward to it. Who knows? There might even be an "official" release of this broadcast sometime within the next 50 years. Even if not, there will be DVDs coming of the staged performances of the entire cycle. Worse comes the worse, if the production turns out to be ridiculous, I'll just listen with my eyes closed.

*And by the way, it's Ro-BEHR-to, not Ro-BUR-to, Alagna!

Recent operatic encounters at the movies

I suppose that my most recent series of "operatic encounters at the movies" began on Memorial Day, when I went to see Revenge of the Sith. As I stated in my first post, sagas like Star Wars and Star Trek and Babylon 5, with their huge scope, grand passions, and mythic depth - not to mention wonderful musical scores! - are quite rightly referred to as "space operas". More to the point for this particular post, the film actually has a scene in an opera house! Anakin Skywalker (the soon-to-be Darth Vader) meets with Chancellor Palpatine (the soon-to-be Emperor) at the Galaxies Opera House, although it seems that George Lucas is interested more in the opera house as the place where the rich and powerful gather than the state of the arts in the Republic. That might have been interesting actually - Palpatine's megalomania destroying the Republic culturally as well as politically - just like every totalitarian state that ever existed did with its arts - and unfortunately, what a few people in the US are trying to do too. It also seems to be rather common in mystery and suspense movies to have a scene in an opera or theater box to show the contrast between the quiet, sinister conspiracies and the huge, festive public space.

What Anakin and Palpatine are actually "watching" while they discuss the possibilty of eternal life, however, is not an opera - more like a huge sphere with sinuous lights moving across it. In the novelization it is described as a "Mon Calamari ballet". Interestingly enough, John Williams' score for this scene (on the soundtrack CD as "Palpatine's Teachings"), consists of choral basses singing very long notes at the bottom of their voices - a lot like some Russian choral music, but to far more sinister effect - not surprisingly considering that Palpatine is slowly but surely drawing Anakin to the dark side of the Force. Actually, I believe all three movies in the prequel trilogy have quite a bit of very good choral writing in them - it would be interesting to see if Williams could compose a full-scale choral work or even an opera. I must give the wonderful singers of London Voices and their director Terry Edwards their due.

By the way, there is a music critic in Los Angeles who I usually have a lot of respect for, Jim Svejda, who thinks Williams is a big fraud and a plagiarist - his argument is that the Star Wars main title sounds like - get this - the big fanfare at the end of Act III of Manon Lescaut! Sorry, Jim, no dice. Williams is far more thrilling and bombastic here, and I don't think they are remotely in the same key. It's no closer than many other compositions by a lot of other composers. Although I will admit that the wonderful "love theme" introduced in Attack of the Clones bears a strong resemblance to various Russian themes, namely Scheherezade and possibly the Second Polovetsian Dance from Prince Igor.

One of the central plot points of Batman Begins is that the young Bruce Wayne, ambushed by a bat colony while hiding in a well, becomes absolutely terrified of bats - which is why to face his fear, he takes on the form of a bat as an adult crimefighter. While still a child, he is taken by his parents to a production of Mefistofele, and we see the Witches Sabbath scene. When Bruce sees the black-clad demons in this scene descending from the flies on ropes, he instantly sees them as bats. Unlike what some people on Opera-L have said, this is not a "regietheater" production that actually presents the demons as bats (actually, that's not a bad idea), but a "traditional" production that just hits Bruce where it happens to hurt most. It's as if I were to see a person costumed in black with a lot of fringes as a tarantula. Bruce recoils in terror and he and his parents leave, and his father comforts him by saying "A little opera goes a long way". Understandable under the circumstances, perhaps, but I was a little annoyed by the way this seemed to reinforce the stereotype of opera being only for very rich people who go primarily to show off just how rich they are, even though the elder Waynes are clearly wonderful people. The Gotham Opera House (I presume that's what it was called) is much smaller and somewhat seedier looking than its real life New York counterpart - certainly the area outside the house where Bruce's parents are murdered is! I'd be interested to know if the production team actually filmed this in one of the smaller European theaters or if they built a set. By the way, they used the classic recording of the opera with Norman Treigle conducted by Julius Rudel, which was lip-synched to by actors - Patrick Pond, Poppy Tierney and Rory Campbell as Mefistofele, Marguerite, and Faust respectively.

But that's not the only connection to opera that this film has. Unlike a lot of moviegoers, I almost always stay through the end of the credits (and some of these are long - Return of The King had almost 10 minutes worth!), mostly to enjoy the music but also some movies have twists or jokes either during or after. I was quite surprised that listed in the special effects crew as a digital compositor was a gentleman named - Giuseppe Tagliavini! Now I wonder if he could be related to Ferruccio Tagliavini, one of my favorite lyric tenors, or perhaps to the lesser known Franco Tagliavini. I'm not sure whether either of these gentlemen had children. Even if Tagliavini is a common name, it occurred to me that in addition to being a tenor Ferruccio was also a licensed electrical engineer (in fact, that's what he wanted to do with his life and his father forced him to be a singer; according to Robert Merrill, he was able to use his engineering skills to earn a fortune in the construction business), and that's a skill or an interest that might be passed down to a son (or a nephew). I'm not sure exactly what a digital compositor does - I presume it probably has something to do with computer animation - but it sounds like it needs a good mix of both artistic and technical skills.

One of my very favorite places in New York City is probably the best revival/art house movie theater around, Film Forum. They recently had a series called "Hollywood Before The Code", basically films made before about 1934 when the Hays Code that forbade anything remotely sexual or "immoral" from being put into the movies. Although what's in these movies is extraordinarily tame by modern standards, they still had a good deal of sexual innuendo (even - gasp! - homosexuality) and dealt with other things that were extremely scandalous at the time, such as adultery, unwed motherhood, and abortion. The first of these movies of interest here is the 1931 version of An American Tragedy. As many readers of this blog will no doubt know, the Metropolitan Opera is presenting the world premiere of Tobias Picker's opera based on the novel. Although there is no operatic music in the film, it might offer a clue to how this 800-page novel (which I will read prior to seeing the opera) will be adapted - a great deal of material in the book will have to be cut. It focuses on the central story of Clyde Griffeths' romance with and murder of Roberta Alden and his subsequent trial, without going too much into Clyde's background and life before he starts his "rise to the top" and life in his uncle's shirt factory. I will also try to see the 1951 film adaption of this book, A Place in the Sun, before I see the opera.

Several weeks after An American Tragedy, Film Forum presented a double bill of A Farewell to Arms and Morocco as part of the same series - the former deals with sex out of wedlock and pregnancy, the latter is famous (infamous?) as the film where the tuxedoed, top-hatted Marlene Dietrich kisses a female nightclub patron - again, not nearly as tittilating as I expected. The films have both a very young Gary Cooper and Adolphe Menjou in common. Since A Farewell to Arms takes place mostly in Italy, it was appropriate that we should here some opera - one of the soldiers is a tenor who sings "Vesti la giubba" and "La donna e mobile". I thought the tenor sang rather well, although his comrades dismissed his ability. Later in the film, a tenor, presumably the same character, is listening along with Gary Cooper and Helen Hayes to some street puppeteers putting on Il Barbiere di Siviglia with the Rosina/Figaro duet taken at double-speed, and lamenting that this opera was his debut and he would never be able to sing again. Unfortunately, I don't think this actor/tenor was identified in the credits. It also wasn't much of a shock to hear the Liebestod in the scene where Helen Hayes' character is dying. But the big suprise was in Morocco - early in the film we hear a muezzin - that is, the man who calls the Muslim faithful to prayer - not reciting, but actually singing the adhan (said call to prayer) in a gorgeous tenor voice. The melody actually reminded me of a lot of Jewish music, particularly that of Moroccan (obviously!) or Arabic origin. Indeed, the tenor sounded a lot like one of the great cantors like Moshe or David Koussevitzky. Unfortunately, I could find no credit for the singer or this particular music on IMDB.

The final encounter was in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where Mr. Tagliavini once again showed up in the credits. And on my way into the Food Emporium on 68th Street and Broadway, where I purchased a big chocolate bar to be consumed during the film, I almost bumped into Veronica Villaroel - quite literally!

Incidentally, according to his entry on IMDB, Mr. Tagliavini started his career with a lot of Italian films and has been featured not only in Batman Begins and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but in Troy, Alexander, and Kingdom of Heaven, and is also working on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire!

Last minute addition: I just found out the soundtrack album for Wong Kar-wai's new film 2046 features Angela Gheorghiu singing "Casta Diva" - presumably taken from her CD of the same name. I don't know if this film is quite my cup of tea, despite rave reviews and the presence of two actresses I adore, Gong Li and Zhang Ziyi. Both ladies, however, will be starring in the upcoming Memoirs of a Geisha. Maybe if we are lucky, that film's soundtrack might have Angela singing "Un bel di"?