O Ciel Azzuri (?)

Gorgeous waterfall somewhere in Ethiopia

O ciel azzuri, o dolce aure native ... O verdi colle, o profumate rive ... O fresche valli, o queto asil beato ... O patria mia, non ti vedro mai piu!

(O azure skies, sweet native breezes ... O green hills, o perfumed shores ... O cool valleys, blessed, tranquil refuge ... O my homeland, I shall never see you again!)

- "O patria mia", Aida, Act III (translated partially by Decca and partially by me)

Now I know what Aida is talking about.

OK, it looks rather gray and rainy on this particular day, not quite "ciel azzuri". But Ethiopia is gorgeous. A pity that when one thinks of the country, one tends to think only of desert landscapes and starving people, although I am by no means suggesting one should ignore them.

The picture, by the way, came from a PowerPoint presentation of scenes from Africa that has making the E-mail rounds around work.

I did have a craving for Ethiopian food (shiro and injera - yum!) after Tuesday night's performance. Unfortunately, my favorite Ethiopian restaurant has been closed for ages and I know of none near my home, my work, my synagogue or the Met!

Roberto and Angela (no, not that one!) make a virtually "celeste" "Aida" (STUB)

The following was an E-mail I sent to my friend Brad of Met Futures fame, which responded to the questions of whether Carlo Colombara, who was listed in the Met Database as Ramfis, sang instead of Vitaly Kowajow, and "Well??? Did you love it??". So this will serve as the "stub" until the full review goes up. Sometime in the next millenium.

"I presume it was Kowaljow, as no announcement was made and there was no insert in the program except for Roberto replacing Berti. Frankly, I don't think Colombara was ever as good as this! Kowaljow is one of my favorite of the "younger" generation of basses (i.e. post-Ramey). Per the program he will be the Colline on the new Boheme recording with Rolando and Anna and he will also be recording something called I Medici by Leoncavallo with Placido Domingo (not sure if Placido is tenoring or conducting)

Did I love it? Mostly. There were moments where it was definitely the best Aida I've seen live, but it began a little ropily. Despite what Roberto said in the "post-game" interview on the Met website, I think he was scared during "Celeste Aida" (can one blame him???) and proceeded very carefully, which I would have minded less if I couldn't "see him working", so to speak. There were a few moments in Romeo like that too. He took it very slowly, no doubt to aid expression, and he and Ono weren't always together (sort of the opposite for Angela Brown in "Ritorna vincitor" - she went too fast!). By and large he made up for it in terms of intensity of feeling and his usual superb diction. Quite to my suprise, and delight, he sang the "Toscanini version" of the ending, with him holding the high B for about two seconds and then finishing with "vicino al sol" an octave lower. I should point out that I don't think I've ever heard a live "Celeste Aida" that wasn't problematic in some way. It's an absolutely killer aria for the tenor, especially coming at the beginning of the opera. You probably know that Jean de Reszke, generally considered to be the greatest tenor immediately preceding Caruso, regularly cut it. Once past the aria, he seemed to relax, albeit he missed a few lines right after. His best bits were at the end of Act II, where he literally pushed Amneris away from him, something I doubt most tenors don't do because they're probably afraid Radames will be executed! Lots of really wonderful little acting details too. I'm still concerned about his growing tendency to use the darkest and roughest colors of his voice to convey emotion. Still I don't doubt he could be a magnificent Met Radames - once he gets the chance to actually rehearse it! I certainly don't think he should retire it, as he was apparently considering after La Scala, although I still think his bread and butter should be Italian and French lyric roles. Oh, all right, anything French. I still want to hear both his Samson and his Rodrigue in Le Cid. I still regret he retired Don Carlos - why, especially if he has Otello plans?

(Note per my usher friend Annie, who thought that Roberto was one of the best Radames' she's ever heard and she's been there for 30 years - a lot of people were really pissed last night at Roberto's withdrawal from Butterfly. There were boos and one man left.)

(Also, Roberto went back to his old, wonderful habit of shaking hands with the prompter - Jane Klaviter tonight. He is the only singer I have ever seen do that, although Annie told me that she saw Frank Lopardo do it once. Probably stole it from Roberto. And Angela (that one!) was probably in the audience as he blew someone a kiss :-) )

Angela Brown - just fabulous. Gorgeous, gorgeous top, wonderful use of messa di voce effects, lots of fire and passion and, particularly in the Nile Scene, specificity. Get this woman a Verdi disc now. And she's singing Tosca somewhere - I'd definitely like to hear her do that at the Met as well as Aida and Amelia (and Elizabetta? Elvira? Leonora? Both Leonoras?)

Dolora Zajick (the shortest person on stage?!) started out almost inaudible, but her Act II confrontation with Aida and the Judgement Scene were just titanic. The Aida/Amneris confrontation was definitely the best I've seen live - although they basically just stood there. Admittedly it is very difficult to stage, and we don't necessarily want to see hairpulling and stuff.

Andrzej Dobber looks about 25 on his publicity photo, but he couldn't possibly be considering his immense amount of experience - apparently a house baritone in Warsaw in addition to a lot of more prestigious European experience. Both physically and vocally, a very lean, dry, muscular Amonasro. The most "warrior" Amonasro I've seen - when he tells the King of Egypt he's a "common" officer, you can see why he believes him. Now we know how he got to be King of Ethiopia.

Reinhard Hagen - excellent debut, looked about 7 feet, would be happy to see him as Sarastro, although I thought one of the giants in the Ring would be the best casting.

And any chance they might actually let Jennifer Check sing Aida??? I heard her as Norma at a Young Artists gala years ago and she was wonderful. I don't suppose she's understudying Papian? It's certainly past time she sang major roles!

Still hate the choreography.

Oh, and I saw James Conlon - he was up in the broadcast booth being interviewed for Sirius - that's right next to the Family Circle ladies room. He's shorter than I am. What is it with short conductors?"

BA BAAAA BA-BA-BA BA BA BA BA-BA-BA BAAA BA-BA!

My rather pathetic rendition of the Triumphal March, as seen above, is actually entirely appropriate to this post.

I get into work at 8:30 AM and quite innocently open up my E-mail. And, lo and behold, there is a note from my best friend, Brad Wilber, copying a Met Press release saying Roberto Alagna would be singing his first Radames at the Met tonight, replacing an indisposed Marco Berti!

SHWEEEOOOO......THUD.

After getting up from my faint, I check Met website and it's all sold out except for unbelievably expensive tickets and Standing Room. I check my bank balance. No money. (Expletives in as many languages as I can think of) I borrow $20 from sympathetic, vaguely opera-liking colleague (am getting paid tomorrow), run up to the Met on my lunch hour, which I took an hour early because I assumed everyone would be rushing to buy Standing Room once they found out about Roberto, wait half an hour on line and...

WHEW. I get a Family Circle Standing Room place. Apparently not anywhere near the last one, so maybe I was overly panicked. And I have enough for dinner, too! I tell the ticket clerk that I loved her. Since I bought the ticket with cash, I'd better not lose it!

Yay! Not just Roberto and The Other Angela, but Dolora! And Vitaly Kovaljow! And Kazushi Ono is supposed to be good. I hope it turns out OK with Roberto being dropped into the middle of things at the last minute like this. And of course, with too many people wired to view him (and Angela) solely as villains no matter what they do, there will be more negativity about him missing Butterfly last night to do this than him dropping in to save the day here. I should say that after seeing him as Romeo and Pinkerton, I have no doubt as to his ability to sing a role the size of Radames even in this house. I just hope he models on Bergonzi and Bjorling rather than Corelli.

I'll have to return my DVD of Battlestar Galactica (the new one, Season 1, discs 4 and 5) to the video store before I get a chance to watch all the extras, but hey, this is a once in a lifetime thing! Or at least not until at least 2010, which is when the last role Roberto has scheduled at the Met is...

Maybe it's a cliche to say "Butterfly" soars... (STUB)

... but oh, boy, it's true.

Hitherto, I have liked and admired Patricia Racette, but never went "WOW"! Now I think I see what the fuss is about her (am also, by the way, making tentative plans to see her wife in Carmen across the plaza). Roberto was just glorious - primarily because he actually played Pinkerton as a nice guy, cocky, good-humored, likeable, sensitive (in other words, himself!). If anything, a non-villainous Pinkerton actually makes the tragedy more poignant.I could actually imagine this Pinkerton, had he been assigned to permanent duty in Japan, staying with Butterfly at least long enough for her to have the psychological maturity to handle is leaving. Unfortunately, he has to go back to his duty on the Abraham Lincoln, and "real life" takes over.

But frankly, he needs a haircut, especially with that uniform cap. No American military officer (I imagine especially in 1903) should have hair that long. Something you should know, Monsieur French Tank Corp!

Rest of the cast just fine - I think I would have noticed Luca Salsi a bit more with a less wonderful Butterfly and Pinkerton. Maria Zifchak had about ten times the applause you would expect a Suzuki to get.

More later.

And I thought *I* had credit problems...

The following is yet another E-mail that has been circulating around work:

Be sure and cancel your credit cards before you die.

This is so priceless, and so, so easy to see happening, customer service being what it is today.

A lady died this past January, and Citibank billed her for February and March for their annual service charges on her credit card, and added late fees and interest on the monthly charge. The balance had been $0.00 when she died, but now somewhere around $60.00. A family member placed a call to Citibank.

Here is the exchange:

Family Member: "I am calling to tell you she died back in January."

Citibank : "The account was never closed and the late fees and charges still apply."

Family Member : "Maybe, you should turn it over to collections."

Citibank : "Since it is two months past due, it already has been."

Family Member : So, what will they do when they find out she is dead?"

Citibank: "Either report her account to frauds division or report her to the credit bureau, maybe both!"

Family Member : "Do you think God will be mad at her?"

Citibank: "Excuse me?"

Family Member : "Did you just get what I was telling you - the part about her being dead?"

Citibank: "Sir, you'll have to speak to my supervisor."

(Supervisor gets on the phone)

Family Member : "I'm calling to tell you, she died back in January with a $0 balance."

Citibank : "The account was never closed and late fees and charges still apply."

Family Member: "You mean you want to collect from her estate?"

Citibank : (Stammer) "Are you her lawyer?"

Family Member: "No, I'm her great nephew." (Lawyer info was given)

Citibank: "Could you fax us a certificate of death?"

Family Member: "Sure." (Fax number was given )

(After they get the fax)

Citibank : "Our system just isn't setup for death. I don't know what more I can do to help."

Family Member : "Well, if you figure it out, great! If not, you could just keep billing her. She won't care."

Citibank: "Well, the late fees and charges do still apply." (What is wrong with these people?!?)

Family Member : "Would you like her new billing address?"

Citibank : "That might help."

Family Member : " Odessa Memorial Cemetery , Highway 129, Plot Number 69."

Citibank : "Sir, that's a cemetery!"

Family Member : "What do you do with dead people on your planet???"

And I shudder to think what would have happened had the poor lady been cremated and her ashes scattered over the ocean, or in space...

Poker in Heaven?

Dolly Parton and Queen Elizabeth die on the same day and they both go before an angel to find out if they'll be admitted to Heaven.

Unfortunately, there's only one space left that day, so the angel must decide which of them gets in. The angel asks Dolly if there's some particular reason why she should go to Heaven. Dolly takes off her top and says, "Look at these, they're the most perfect breasts God ever created, and I'm sure it will please God to be able to see them every day, for eternity."

The angel thanks Dolly, and asks Her Majesty the same question. The Queen takes a bottle of Perrier out of her purse, shakes it up, and gargles. Then, she spits into a toilet and pulls the lever. The angel says, "OK, your Majesty, you may go in."

Dolly is outraged and asks, "What was that all about? I show you two of God's own perfect creations and you turn me down. She spits into a commode and she gets in! Would you explain that to me?"

"Sorry, Dolly," says the Angel, "but even in Heaven, a royal flush beats a pair - no matter how big they are."

A pity when you consider that not only does Dolly sing much better than Her Majesty, she's also a really nice person! Admittedly, so is Her Majesty.

Normally I would not spell out the Divine Name, even in English, but since this was a copy and paste from the original e-mail, I thought that editing the Divine Name would be even worse!

Not QUITE raving mad about Lucia (STUB)

Yes, Natalie Dessay excellent (her mad scene was actually scary), but I frankly was more impressed by the men, especially the magnificent Mariusz Kwiecen as Enrico. Marcello Giordani also wonderful (and no, Mr. Tommasini, he never bellowed!) as usual, and John Relyea (the next Sam Ramey?) real luxury casting as Raimondo. And now I'm starting to see what the chat boards fuss over Steven Costello is all about, and the Met seems to agree with me because he's actually getting Edgardo later this month!

More later.

Yes, Americans CAN write opera! (STUB)

OK, Margaret Garner isn't on quite the same level as Porgy and Bess, but it's damned good! I think a lot of the critics who panned it were determined to knock it before they saw it because it wasn't 12-tone serialist or something. All the performances were excellent, but especially Lisa Dalritus as Cilla. I hope the Met is keeping an eye on her. She's singing a number of major soprano roles (Aida, Tosca, Leonora) in Seattle.

And I have to read Beloved.

And am I the only one who thinks Their Eyes Were Watching G-d would make a great opera?

More later.

The Met's star-crossed, star-studded, and star-spangled "Romeo" (STUB)

Roberto and Anna both mostly great but often way too loud - Anna largely better with dynamic subtlety, but the end of "Amour, ranime mon courage" was ffff! No "chemistry", but considering that they weren't with their other halves and had no real rehearsal (Roberto got back from Marseilles only a few days before), they did very well - they clearly enjoyed working together (rather like Angela with Marcello Giordani). Neither were much helped by Domingo, who had none of the elegance or spirit needed for the French rep and made me very nostalgic for Bertrand de Billy. Isabel Leonard made a wonderful debut as Stefano, all cocky and agressive. Most other voices good too (although Stephane Degout didn't "stand out" so much as I think Mercutio should), although Mark Heller has one of the ugliest voices I've ever heard from a tenor. Tybalt is a nasty fellow, but many beautiful voices have sung the role. Mixed but mostly positive feelings about the astronomy/astrology motif of production. Overall, a very good night, but more rehearsal and a better conductor would have made it a great one. I don't doubt if Roberto takes over Rolando's still TBA December performances, it will be much better. Further details, and photos, to follow soon.

Introducing...STUBS!

Well, faithful readers (all four of you!), you must have realized that I have done almost no posting in a dog's age, largely because I haven't had the time to write down massive, yenta-ish reviews of everything I've seen and done. So, what I will be doing once the opera season begins this week is to put up posts that might be called "stubs" - at least an acknowledgement that I've been to a performance and maybe a one sentence review. Then, if I have time, I'll expand it at a later point. That way you'll know I'm still alive and kicking.

Reacquainting myself with the OTHER Met!

I went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art for the first time in G-d knows when today, and did something I've always wanted to do, namely join the museum. I figure I'll be going often enough that a $60 Met Net membership will pay for itself very quickly, when the "Suggested Admission" is $20. I'm actually a bit embarassed that I don't do more museum-going considering I live in one of the great museum cities of the world, and when I was in London I spent almost all my time in museums (4 hours in the British Museum, of course, is not enough. You could live there and not see everything). When I get the Big Raise in October, that should all change. I definitely want to join the American Museum of Natural History, for the Planetarium if nothing else, and they have what looks like an interesting exhibit on mythical beasts - scientific explanations for mermaids and the like.

I went today because it was my last chance to see an utterly fabulous exhibit on "Venice and the Islamic World". (Will expand later). Note to self: Never go to a special exhibition on the last day - everybody and their mothers wanted to get in!

I didn't have time to do much else except gawk in the gift shop. I mean I do get a 10% discount now, but some of the jewelry and reproductions are very expensive. Some of the books/exhibit catalogs may be worth getting (usually $50 in paperback). I definitely want the Islamic Venice one. My main interest was actually getting some real art for my walls (I have lots of calendars, some very "arty", e.g. Renoir, Van Gogh, John William Waterhouse, Jewish Art, etc, but that's not the same thing. The posters are not too bad, ranging from $10-$25, some on sale for as little as $2, but G-d forbid you actually want to frame them - that will probably add a minimum of $50. They had a digital reproduction of a Mary Casatt painting for $125 (understandable considering the extreme detail), but with a frame (admittedly gilded), it was $425!

Maybe I'll have better luck on Overstock.com? I remember seeing some nice, large framed reproductions for $50-$100...

Preview of Angela's new CD

While the idiot loggionisti at La Scala are currently booing Angela Gheorghiu as Violetta (predictable - she isn't Italian, she isn't Callas, her husband is "Spanish", she's too famous, and she didn't pay them clapping money), a more sensible audience at the Milanese sewer ... er... theater went pretty wild over a song recital she did there last year, shortly to be released on CD by EMI. Arie antiche, songs by Bellini, Donizetti, Verdi, Gounod, Massenet and several Romanian composers (the best known of whom is probably Tiberiu Bredicianu) as well as "I Could Have Danced All Night" and (oh, no Angela, not again) "O mio babbino caro". One minute sound bites are here. They're wonderful - never have I heard a more sheerly joyous "Me voglio fà'na casa", a song I associate almost exclusively with tenors, primarily Carlo Bergonzi. Or a warm and seductive "A vuchella" - I think the only non-tenor I've heard sing this is Cesare Siepi (oh, no wait, I also heard his possible "successor" Roberto Scandiuzzi, but the point is, not a woman). And the Romanian material looks very interesting indeed. She seem to be having a lot of fun, figuratively (though not literally!) taking her hair down, which is a bit of a change. And I would frankly rather have her do more stuff like this than sing the same 7 or 8 arias over and over again in every city in the world, even if not everybody follows her around. Her My World recital CD is one of my favorites of hers and when I first heard it I thought she would be a song recitalist to rival Victoria De Los Angeles in scope and breadth. Sadly, this doesn't seem to be happening. In fact my one real artistic criticism of her is that she's conservative almost to the point of timidity (unlike Roberto, who rushes in where fools and angels fear to tread). (1)

To be fair to the La Scala audience, apparently most of them loved her Violetta, but I don't see why any artist - even ones I don't like (2) - should have to put up with that kind of politically motivated garbage from a bunch of hooligans. I am emphatically not one of those who cherish the idea of "opera as blood sport". I have the feeling if she survives this run, she'll probably eventually wind up queen there. I'm still hoping that she and Roberto will be able to do Manon Lescaut there. Or somewhere. Maybe Covent Garden with Tony? They are apparently recording it. And Tony is apparently preparing a new production of the Other Manon with The Other Couple...

Anyway, the CD will be released in both the UK and the US on August 28.
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(1) Actually, her diction isn't always the greatest, but that's a problem with a lot of sopranos and I am, I suppose, ultimately comparing her with Roberto, who has, in general, some of the best diction I've ever heard from a singer (it was the second thing I noticed, after the beauty of the voice), and the best French diction from any singer since Georges Thill.

(2) For example, Luciano Pavarotti wasn't booed for cracking a high B in Don Carlo, he was booed because the loggionisti decided he had become too popular outside Italy. And Renee Fleming, what ever my issues with her as a singer of bel canto (or almost anything, these days), she did not deserve to have people screaming "va, va, puttana Americana!" at her. No, I'm not going to translate that.

Oy

Beverly Sills, and Regine Crespin? In the SAME WEEK????

And just yesterday I saw a multidisc set of all Crespin's solo Decca recitals (I already have her EMI ones). Maybe that's why J&R had it out, although they didn't say anything.

I'm still haunted by her recording of Ravel's "Scheherezade" ("Asie! Asie")

Baruch dayan emet.

Cardiff adventures, musical and otherwise

My thoughts on the Singer of the World Competition in Cardiff, and a certain television show produced in Cardiff, will follow shortly. Hopefully within the next week, backdated. Chinese bass Shen Yang won the Main Prize (he's only 23! A baby by bass standards!), English coloratura soprano Elizabeth Watts won the Song Prize, and South African baritone Jacques Imbraillo won the Audience Prize.

And happy Father's Day to all fathers out there. I'm a little distant from this holiday as my father has been dead for 25 years. Maybe next year I'll do a post on all the wonderful father/daughter duets in opera (thank you, Giuseppe Verdi). A pity there are comparatively few for moms.

I do have a new Father's Day ritual, though - watching an episode of aforementioned television show entitled "Father's Day".

The DEVIL take this weather!

Well folks, my planned sojourns to the Metropolitan Opera's performances in Central Park of La Boheme and Faust on Tuesday and Wednesday were severely hampered, if not ruined, by maleficent (although saying "hellish" would be going a bit too far) atmospheric conditions. Normally, I love going to these concerts because it's a chance to enjoy music in relaxed, informal, and gorgeous surroundings. Not to mention being able to get some grass under my feet and ogle all the cute babies and gorgeous picnic dinners. This year, I was interested in La Boheme mainly because it will likely be my last chance to hear the marvelous Hei-Kyung Hong under Met auspices (she isn't singing there next season and, as I've said before, rumor has it that her contract has been bought out) even though I'm not sure Mimi entirely suits her, for reasons I can't articulate. I would have also liked to have seen Mary Dunleavy as Musetta, a role I don't think she has sung in the house. Faust, once my favorite opera and still high on the list, featured two singers new to the Met family, as well as artists who I had already developed strong liking for.

I should have known on Tuesday. It was raining horribly, and I think even hailing, around 3PM, but stopped pretty quickly. I tried calling the Met right before I left work to see if there was a cancellation, but the line was constantly busy, presumably because everyone was calling for the same reasons I was. When I got home I decided to chance it. So armed with my folding chair, some kiwi fruit, peaches, and plums (but no umbrella!), I went up to Central Park - accidentally taking the E traininstead the C train and having to wait forever while changing at Seventh Avenue! The policemen and park people I talked to seemed to think everything was OK, but once I was about hundred feet into the park, drops started falling from the sky. And falling. Within a minute it was "cats and dogs" territory. I used my chair to fend off some water, but since the rain was being blown by the wind into an angle, most of it wound up on me. I did manage to share an umbrella for a few minutes until the worst of it passed. At roughly 7:10PM, the Great Lawn was pretty empty, and since I didn't see a mass exodus from the rain, I assume most people didn't bother coming in the first place. I had just found a nice spot for my chair and took my sandals off - my brand new sandals which were abrading the skin on my toes and making walking rather difficult - when I overheard someone say that an announcement had been made from the stage that the performance had been cancelled. There would be no rain date unless it rained the next day, and then only for Faust. I was stubborn, and not about to waste the trip to Central Park, so I decided to just sit there and eat my fruit. I was just peeling the label off my very last plum when the park officials ordered everybody to clear the lawn. Oh well.

What really makes me mad about this is that there wasn't any rain after the initial deluge and they could have easily gone on with the performance. Even better, all the allergens would have been washed out of the air, which would have been wonderful for the singers, especially Hong who complained in the recent Opera News about being affected by allergies at these concerts - no doubt that is what caused the slight problems she had in La Traviata last summer. Well, I'll probably be able to see Dunleavy in the house, and I suppose now that since Hong's international career is progressing and I will soon have money, I might be able to see her elsewhere. Washington, or even London, maybe.(1)

Well, there was no rain on Wednesday, but it was awfully cloudy (the scientific term being "yucky"), and once I got into the park, oh boy, there was wind! When I told one of my colleagues my travails of the previous evening, he advised me to bring a jacket, but since I read the temperature as 63, I didn't think I needed one. I generally tend to be quite cold resistant. Wrongo. As it happens, the jacket I would have brought probably wouldn't have helped. I think the wind chill was somewhere in the high 40s. I was actually considering ducking out before the performance started, but decided I at least wanted to get a taste of all the voices. Speaking of taste, I very much enjoyed my dinner of seaweed, avocado, and lambsquarters (at least I think they were lambsquarters, if not it was some other edible weed) freshly picked right there in Central Park. Yes, yes, I can just see the faces you're making. It was delicious. Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah! I wound up leaving at intermission, but I still got to hear a pretty big chunk of the opera - the Met forces played the first three acts, that is, to the end of the scene in Marguerite's garden. While I was largely enjoying what I was hearing, in the end, I was just too cold, and frankly, I'm not sure I love the opera quite as much as I used to. And as it happens, after I got home, I fell asleep before the opera would have ended.

The biggest problem of the evening, besides the weather, was the sound. Usually when I go to these concerts I try to sit as far upfront aspossible, if for no other reason than to try to see the performers. But this time I decided I didn't want to take the time to make my way all the way to the "front" of the Great Lawn. I also didn't want to be too close to the loudspeakers for the sake of avoiding hearing loss. I should have made the effort after all. When the opera started, I could only hear the double basses in the overture, and not the cellos or violins. This is the kind of sound quality I expect at performances ofthe New York Grand Opera at Summerstage, which has a vastly inferior sound system. Even worse, I'm pretty sure the wind interfered with the speakers, distorting the sound further. Oh yeah, and people were talking. Loudly. Despite a reminder from the stage beforehand to talk "sotto voce" and only when necessary. Several thousand people "sottovoce" is still a dull roar, however, and several people were at least forte. In a setting like this, I can understand being on a cell phone to give your friends directions, but not the loud dinnertime conversations while people are singing! I suspect with all the trouble I've had in the house this year with noise issues, I've become overly sensitive and less able to tune stuff like this out than I used to be. Equally likely, there would have been less noise closer to the stage.

Maurizio Benini, although a superb conductor of Barbiere (and presumably, other bel canto and/or comic operas), is basically a routinier for everything else I've heard him do - although, to be fair, at least some of his performances may not have been well rehearsed. This may have been a problem here as well since he and some of the singers weren't quite in sync. I suspect he was deliberately conducting very fast in order to get everybody home at a decent hour - the first two acts took about 40 minutes and the Jewel Song ended before 9PM. I alsonoticed a number of cuts - most of the overture, a chunk of Faust's transformation scene (from "O merveille!" to the chord announcing him as a young man), bits of the quartet in the Garden Scene - which of course are there in the house performances.

David Pomeroy started out badly but improved over the course of the night. He initially had a lot of problems with line and phrasing (likely partially Benini's fault), and his French was, well, not up to the standard of an international house. Quite surprising considering he is Canadian (possibly French-Canadian - isn't "Pomeroy" a French name?) and has sung at most of the major theaters in Canada, although I note, not Montreal ). Since this was his "Met debut" (I only consider it a debut when it is a house debut), he may have been suffering from nerves. His is a very light, lyric tenor, which is a nice contrast to my other Met Fausts - Richard Leech, Roberto Alagna, and Ramon Vargas - and intrinsically quite beautiful. He also had decent high notes, a few nice moments of subtlety (namely the aforementioned "O merveille!") and gave a solid if ultimately unmemorable rendition of "Salut, demeure". Whether he should sing this role in a house the size of the Met is another matter, although I'd be interested to hear him as, say, Hylas or Iopas in Les Troyens. Or Lennie in Of Mice and Men, which he sang in Kansas City (although as far as I'm concerned Anthony Dean Griffey owns this role). I think he might be up for Skuratov in From the House of the Dead when the Met does it in 2009-2010 - how many other tenors have that role in their repertory?

Although I was very curious to hear her, I must admit that I came in with feelings of ... oh, all right, hostility toward Katie Van Kooten,which I admit is almost completely unfair. The soprano spent a number of years in Covent Garden's young artist program, culminating in her being given one performance of Magda in La Rondine alternating with Angela Gheorghiu. Now of course, since she was covering Angela, the British press predictably wrote lots of articles portraying her as the sweet, wonderful, normal person who actually deserves stardom versus the evil diva bitch who owes everything to her marriage and to "hype" - rather ironic considering what little you do hear about Angela these days tends to be vicious, not sycophantic. It naturally got worse when she wound up replacing Angela in Paris as Magda. No doubt had Van Kooten covered Karita Mattila or Renee Fleming or some press darling she would have been completely ignored - I certainly don't remember seeing gushy portraits of any of their covers, as good singers as they may be (2). And of course, she's American and blonde, which is something else the music press and a lot of managements like a little too much. I realize that very little of this is actually Van Kooten's fault, although I wouldn't put it past her management. By and large she broke down my barriers. What most impressed me was that even in a setting like this, she made many attempts at musical subtlety. I also liked the warm, dark bottom ofher voice, and she has a good trill. While I don't think her voice is small, I did have trouble hearing her when she was singing at any volume lower than forte. This may have been miking/acoustic issues, but no one else in the cast had this problem. Despite this, I ultimately found Van Kooten much more interesting than Ruth Ann Swenson, who was my Marguerite last October, and I hope to hear her in the house soon - as long as nobody uses her to bash Angela again.

By the way, it's apparently pronounced Van COAT-ten, in the Dutch manner, not Van COOT-ten. Personally, I think she'd be better off by Katherine or Katerina instead of Katie, as it sounds more formal and "professional", but I imagine she's been through this with her management, and they obviously disagree with me.

There were no disappointments with the house "veterans", although Hung Yun (Valentin) and Kate Lindsey (Siebel) really haven't been at the Met long enough to qualify for that title. I was already impressed by Yun's powerful and incisive Valentin, having seen it in the house. It's a pity I had to miss his death scene. Lindsey really made me sit up and take notice when I saw her as Tebaldo in Don Carlo, and her Siebel, the first time I've seen her in a semi-major role, was equally arresting - warm, lush, and musical, with excellent French. I'm glad to see that the Met is switching her into bigger roles next year (Stefano and Cherubino). She should also be luxury casting for the Madrigal Singer in Manon Lescaut. I'd like to see her go the way of Kristine Jepson, the grossly underrated Suzanne Mentzer, or even Susan Graham.

The biggest veteran of them all, of course, is James Morris. I'll have to check my records, but I believe that he is the principal singer I have seen the most often in my Met-going, certainly in the widest variety of roles (trying to rack up every non-Shabbat performance with Roberto or Angela - and when I have more money quite a few other singers - doesn't count). The growly quality of his voice makes him a very nasty devil indeed - even though I prefer a smoother and more Gallic Mephistopheles (e.g. Pape), Morris' authority and power shine through. Several things I remember from his performances in 2003 were still there, particularly the delightful moment when Faust comes in after Mephistopheles is "repulsed" by all those crosses and asks him what's wrong, and he says "Rien!" (Nothing!) like it really is "Oh, nothing at all!" whereas most basses play this as ticked off. It got a laugh, just like it did back in 2003.

(SIGH) I'll see what I can do about getting to see the operas in the other city parks - Faust in Prospect Park on Tuesday is a definite possibility, although I don't know about La Boheme in Cunningham Park because I have no idea where it is! Certain areas of Queens are more trouble than they're worth in terms of length of travel, especially since the opera is not likely to end much before 10:30PM and it's likely to take a while to get from the park to the subway.

Three things before I go. One is that among all the corporate and political droning that preceded the performance, Manhattan Borough President Scott Stringer gave a speech where he pronounced "Levine" (as in Jimmy) "luh-VEEN". Yes, I know that's the more common pronunciation, but never mind the fact that he's obviously not an opera fan, as a New Yorker, he should know better! I can't remember whether or not I actually voted for this guy. Also, per the program, the Met will behaving not one, but three open houses next season, including one prior to the Opening Night Lucia di Lamermoor. Finally, I think I heard a rumor somewhere that one of the operas for next year's Parks Concerts will be The First Emperor. While I applaud the desire to bring something new to a wider audience - isn't that really as much of a visual pageant as a musical one? Then again, that's true of Turandot, too. And I want to actually see the opera next April - missed it this season - before I judge it.

(1) Still, I suppose this may be my last opportunity to tell my favorite Hong story. Unfortunately I was not actually there when it happened. On December 31, 1999, the Met presented an "End of the Millennium" Gala (never mind that most intelligent, educated people know that the "end of the millennium" was on December 31, 2000), which basically consisted of pretty much every singer who was in a Met production at the time coming out and singing an aria. Well out comes Hong, and as the applause dies down, her young son - I don't know how old but clearly up late on a special night- yells out, loud enough for the entire Met audience to hear, "Hey! That's my MOM! Hey, mom! Mom!"

Future tenor, anyone?

Poor Hong. Her aria just happened to be the ubersexy "Meine Lippen sie kussen so heiss" from Giuditta!

(2) Possible exception to this is when Erin Wall replaced Karita Mattila on an opening night Don Giovanni in Chicago - but it was a special occasion, and the press was able to laud Wall without denigrating Karita. That's the way it should be.

Der Meisternudist von Nürnberg???

The title says it all.

Per yesterday's AM New York, an tourist (American, I regret to say, although at least not a New Yorker) walked around Nuremberg ... in the buff, apparently thinking this was perfectly legal and acceptable in Germany. Per the police spokesman interviewed by AMNY, it isn't. Well, I imagine there probably are resorts in the mountains and various beaches where it's OK, but within city limits? The gentleman in question was apparently not on drugs or mentally deranged, he was just a dumkopf. Or possibly auditioning for a Regietheater production of Meistersinger?

Oy-oy-oy-oy-OYYYY!

Most people seem to assume that the incredibly multifarious Yiddish word "oy" is almost exclusively a negative exclamation, and I believe I have to date used it only as such in this blog. However, the late, great Leo Rosten (the writer of just about every major popular book abut Yiddish) has rightly said that "oy" is not a word, it's a vocabulary. In The Joys of Yiddish he gives 29 uses of "oy" including pain, sorrow, frustration, dismissiveness, surprise, laughter, and outright euphoria. Well, it's with that last emotion with which this entry is tinged, as three things have happened that I really want to kvell about.


1. I seem to have... a secret admirer? a "fan"? a patron, even? There is a gentleman in California (whose name I do know, but I'll leave him his privacy unless he tells me otherwise) who is apparently so enamored of my writing, both for this blog and my virtually defunct Amazon Reviews (which I will start again - one of these days. I hope), that he is buying me gigantic chunks of my Amazon Wish List in appreciation! Well sir, consider this my falling on my knees and kissing your feet from afar. THANK YOU. THANK YOU! THANK YOU!!!! And in your honor I will do my best to post more often. Well, I want to do that anyway, but now I have additional incentive. I suppose I am actually getting paid for my writing at last, even if it is by barter!

2. I just found out that Angela Gheorghiu is singing not just four Amelias in Simon Boccanegra at the Met this season (of which I will be attending two), but what is still her greatest role...Violetta! Now this is always an event, especially as I have heard of no plans for her to sing it again in New York anytime soon (although I now wonder about 2010-2011 since she's not doing the Don Carlo). One night only (March 24), unfortunately. My guess is that the originally scheduled Krasimira Stoyanova (who I would also like to see in the role and whose Nedda I will be seeing on Tuesday) was unavailable, Gelb wanted the starriest replacement possible, and Angela, who just happens to be doing a concert in Florida the night before, was more than willing (1). Since I have been out of touch with most of the main operatic news outlets for some time, mostly due to their recent treatment of Angela's husband (2), I only found out about this today from one of the other members of the Yahoo! Gheorghiu and Alagna fan club where I am a now largely absent moderator (3). Angela has been listed as being part of this performance on the Met's website for several days now - since it's a Saturday night performance, I really hope I can get a ticket. This is one of the few Met things that I will happily pay $42 for - and we get not just Angela but Jonas Kaufmann (hopefully minus cold, this time) and Dwayne Croft. Not Earle Patriarco as the Marquis, but you can't have everything.

3. And last but not least...


Derek Jacobi is going to be on Doctor Who.
Derek Jacobi is going to be on Doctor Who!!!!



You know, he's like one of my favorite actors ... ever, appearing on possibly my favorite show ... ever?

I remember being 9 years old and absolutely riveted to the screen by I, Claudius - well, most of it anyway, as my parents wouldn't let me watch the very adult last four episodes (4). Admittedly, this wasn't just because of Sir Derek (and oh, how long I waited to call him "Sir" - I first saw him in 1979 and I don't think he was knighted until 1994 !), as it's arguably the greatest drama ever produced on British television, but it's mainly his fault that I developed an intense interest in Roman, Greek, and Egyptian culture, and took Latin in high school! I also remember his Hamlet for the BBC, so intense that I turned it off when he started yelling at his mother. In fact, I've never quite forgiven my mother for not giving me the money to go see him on Broadway when he came to do "Breaking the Code" (it did wind up on Masterpiece Theater, but that's not the same thing).

Oh, yeah, and Cadfael. I love historical mysteries, especially medieval ones. I still have to read those books. Right now my favorite mystery series is Sharan Newman's Catherine Le Vendeur novels, but that series seems to be either ended or on hiatus after 10 books. One of these days days I hope to be able to tell Sir Derek this story. I was watching Cadfael with my late ex-boyfriend, who was a master of bad puns (note to potential future boyfriends - that's an asset). He said, "Well, we all know about Cadfael (pronouced "cad-file") the monk who's a detective. Do you know about the monk who's a bureaucrat? Cardfile."

Then his work with Kenneth Branagh - he was so wonderful as the Chorus in Henry V (my favorite Shakespeare movie?). In fact when I saw him in Dead Again, where he was not only the most sinister character in the movie but also the funniest, I was thinking how perfect he would be as the Doctor. But I figured, hey, he's one of the greatest actors in the world. He'd probably look down his nose at Doctor Who. And they could never afford him. Boy, I'm so glad I was wrong!

(Well, it is too late at this stage for him to play the Doctor, as he's in his late 60s. I think that the shows producers at this point would never cast an actor much past his 40s, and it's an intensely physical role and production - 13 hours a day, 6 days a week, 9 months a year is more than a lot of actors, regardless of age, could handle.

And if I'm fainting with joy over this, I can only imagine how David Tennant and Freema Agyeman (oh, yes, and John Barrowman, too - Captain Jack is back!) are reacting. David's worked on some very high profile projects and with the RSC, so he may have worked with Sir Derek before. I can't wait to see how they interact, especially as I think David is not far away from being an actor of Sir Derek's stature (the only real issue is the age, not the talent) and will probably have his own knighthood within the next 30 years. If not I will go to Britain and assassinate whoever is on the throne (5).

All that has been revealed about his upcoming Doctor Who appearance is that he is apparently playing a character called "the Professor" who is a good guy trying to help the Doctor save the world from destruction. Of course, the British tabloids have already started rumors to the contrary, and I will not comment on the speculation as to who the character really might be as it will spoil things for readers of this blog who are Doctor Who fans and bore those who are not. I assume his character will be in the two-part (as yet untitled) finale, as he's too "big" a star to appear in anything less. I imagine it must be a really great script and a pretty meaty role, as well, otherwise I suspect he wouldn't do it. Possibly a fabulous death scene. I just hope he doesn't steal the show from the main characters (as Simon Callow's Dickens did in "The Unquiet Dead") Oh well, we'll find out for sure by the end of June, when the episodes air in Britain, and since I assume that the season will begin airing on the SciFi Channel shortly after, we'll know all the details in about 10 months.


Ten MONTHS??


Oy. That's a long wait. OYYYYYYY! (6)


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(1) I suspect strongly that Angela will cancel said concert.


(2) Was he wrong? Yes. Does he deserve crucifixion? No.


(3) If any of you are reading this, folks, I am faithfully reading if not posting. Look how hard it is maintaining this piece of writing!

(4)I finally saw them when I was about 16 and think most of the questionable content would have gone over my head at 9.


(5) Although producer/head writer Russell T Davies has referred to David in interviews as "Sir David Tennant", just as he used to refer to former companion Billie Piper as "Dame". And let's not forget that the Doctor and Rose were knighted by Queen Victoria! (Never mind what happened afterwards) And I'm assuming there's actually still a monarchy in Britain in 2030. Actually I might carry out that threat if Antonio Pappano isn't knighted by 2010 (assuming he's still at Covent Garden or some other British musical institution like the LSO). And what about Patrick Stewart?


(6) Well, I suppose there's YouTube. Sshhhhh.....

How this Jew spent her Christmas...

Unfortunately, not watching the brand-new Doctor Who Christmas Special "The Runaway Bride" straight from England (1). A few weeks ago I was directed to a website that has real-time webcasts of many television stations around the world - including both BBC1 (home of the good Doctor) and BBC2 (home of lots of arts programming and Covent Garden telecasts - the person who told me about this site was trying to get me to watch a documentary they showed on Angela Gheorghiu, which I unfortunately missed because it was on while I was at work). Unfortunately, I checked this site several days ago - and they are no longer carrying any major BBC channels, although they do have some specialized ones for weather and politics and local stuff. At least I did get last year's Christmas Special "The Christmas Invasion" on the Sci-Fi Channel and taped it, and with luck I hope to be seeing the new one this weekend at a meeting of the local fan club.

I often watch the Midnight Mass from Saint Patrick's Cathedral - mainly because they always have a soloist from the Met sing "O Holy Night" (probably the only Christmas carol I find completely irresistable - most of them I can live without unless being performed by a great singer). They've had Marcello Giordani, Ramon Vargas, Ruth Ann Swenson (she's the most common one) and Christine Goerke (2). I also admit that I've often found what Cardinal O'Connor, and now Cardinal Egan, say in their homilies is pretty interesting - I remember Egan a few years ago talking about how Joseph (and presumably Jesus), the "joiner of wood" was actually more of a construction worker than what we would think of as a carpenter , e.g someone who makes chairs and tables and shelves (3). I can't help but think of devoutly Christian Millard Fuller, the founder of Habitat for Humanity, who uses Jesus-as-carpenter as a model for his housebuilding work. Unfortunately, I missed it this year. And I have no idea who sang "O Holy Night".

Anyway, I went to an open Jewish choral sing at the JCC, sponsored by one of my former choruses, Zamir Chorale, where we read through some choruses from Judas Maccabeus, Chichester Psalms and some Yiddish songs. Not quite one of the Avery Fisher Messiah Sing-Ins, but about 300 people showed up and we started late because extra chairs had to be set up. Although we had a fabulous boy soloist, better than many on recordings, even (I regret that I've forgotten his name), I think I'm getting sick of the Bernstein. I've already sung it twice and I'm going to sing it again in the spring. Unfortunately, it's become the "token Jewish work" for virtually every chorus. While I understand many mainstream choruses may not be familiar with the gorgeous work of Louis Lewandowski, or know that Schubert actually wrote at least one piece in Hebrew, what about the Sacred Services of Ernest Bloch and Darius Milhaud? Or excerpts from Kurt Weill's The Eternal Road, maybe the greatest "Jewish Opera" ever written? And he wrote a wonderful, jazzy setting of the Kiddush, too.

One of my standard Hanukkah rituals is to play Walter Widdop's colossal 1926 recording of "Sound an alarm" and Bryn's Terfel's "Arm, arm ye brave" every night of the holiday - this usually extends to at least the remainder of the Widdop CD (on Pearl, unfortunately out of print, especially since I lost the case and the CD itself isn't in such great condition), if not always the Terfel Handel Arias CD. To prepare for the sing-in, I bought a recording of Judas Maccabeus (McGegan: De Mey, Saffer, Spence, Thomas, Asawa). Well, at least it was cheap. I haven't heard the whole thing, but what I have heard, especially the "Sound an alarm", can best be described as WEEMPY WEEMPY WEEMPY (remember the Hefty Garbage Bag commercial?). Actually, Guy de Mey (Canadian?) has a lovely, light lyric voice and excellent coloratura, but he sounds like he's at a tea dance, not calling troops into battle. I'd cast him as Jupiter in Semele in 5 seconds flat, but not Judas. Maybe I'm just spoiled by Widdop, possibly the greatest British tenor of the 20th Century. And I wanted to buy the recording with Jan Peerce and Martina Arroyo, but it's now out of print. GRRR....

I also did the "traditional" Jewish Christmas of a movie and Chinese food. Nearly every theater in the city seemed to be sold out for the afternoon, so I went down to the Film Forum and caught a Woody Allen double bill of Play it Again, Sam (do you realize I still haven't seen all of Casablanca???) and The Purple Rose of Cairo (mixed feelings on the ending). I still want to see Dreamgirls, The Prestige, Happy Feet, and The Fountain, but the movie I'm really waiting for is Pan's Labyrinth, which has received ecstatic reviews, a 22 minute ovation at Cannes (!), a Golden Globe nomination for best Foreign Film (it's Mexico's Oscar entry, too, and I'd also be surprised, based on what little I've heard of it, if it's not up for a Best Score Oscar too - but I've never forgiven the Academy for not giving the Best Score Oscar to Star Trek - The Motion Picture in 1979), and no less than Steven King called it the greatest fantasy film since The Wizard of Oz. Very dark, violent fairytale set in post-Franco Spain - shades of Spirit of the Beehive? It must really be something, because "serious" film people tend to look down their noses at fantasy.

Weather was awful, by the way. Cold, gray, and damp. I don't think I've had a white Christmas since I was 5. Certainly not more than 3 times in my life

Oh, and I am now finally the very proud mommy of a brand spanking new DVD player - my first. My Hanukkah present to myself. Now all I actually have to do is figure out how to hook it up to my ancient TV. I think I'm going to need to hook up some extra thing (I think it's called an RF modulator) to the TV and hook the DVD player into that because I think the TV only has one output jack.

My actual DVD collection consists of: The Director's Edition of Star Trek: The Motion Picture (also the first film I bought on VHS), The Court Jester (my all-time favorite film - I've seen it about 100 times and it still makes me laugh), Angela and Roberto's L' Elisir D'Amore, her La Traviata, and 3 of my favorite "classic" Doctor Who episodes - "The Mind Robber", "Ghost Light", and "The Curse of Fenric". Hope I can actually start watching them before New Year's, and maybe even get a Netflix subscription.

-------------------------------------------
(1) Actually, I now think of December 25th less as "Christmas" than as "Doctor Who Christmas Special Day". Massive apologies to any Christian readers :-)

(2) I was a little unhappy that Roberto Alagna, who I presume is Catholic, didn't do it the one year he was here for Christmas - 2003, right before his Met Werthers. Then again, marrying a woman who is Romanian Orthodox, and a divorcee, may have disqualified him.

(3) I've always found it very interesting that Christian (specifically Catholic) holy relics tend to be the body parts of Jesus (and the saints). Since he was a carpenter (or a construction worker), surely something he made should be holy, like a chair or a table with miraculous powers? Can anybody who is Christian/Catholic give me any idea as to why this is so?

It almost makes you want to commit SUICIDIO!

Hello Muddah,
Hello Faddah
There I was at
La Gioconda...

(Unfortunately, I can't figure out a song version for what I'm about to tell you that even remotely scans to the "Dance of The Hours")

I started going to the Metropolitan Opera on April 15, 1993, with a Lucia di Lammermoor starring Sumi Jo, Alfredo Kraus, Haijing Fu - I had been to a few things at New York City Opera before that. Beginning in 1995 I began going regularly and by the following season I was averaging about 20 performances a year. I have now been to the Met about 170 times, and probably other opera houses - NYCO, Covent Garden, English National Opera and the Washington Opera - a total of at least 30. In all that time, and all those performances, the worst experience I ever had was - last night.

The day wasn't going all that well to begin with. You probably know by now that New York Yankees pitcher Corey Lisle and his flight instructor were killed when their plane crashed into an apartment building on 72nd and York, right on the East River. Since the first assumption was this was a terrorist act, there were tons of police there, screwing up traffic all over the city. It began to rain torrentially as soon as I left work - and I didn't have my jacket with me because I didn't think it was going to rain until after midnight. I had to go home before the opera to pick up my ticket because I forgot it in the morning. Then I lost my Metrocard (bus fare), although the driver very nicely let me stay on the bus and I found it when I got home.

OK, the performance starts at 7:30PM, which means Irina Mishura begins "Voce di donna" at exactly 8:00. That was made very clear when at least 10 watches beeped during the aria. The last time anything like that happened was back in 1997 when I saw Puritani and Ruth Ann Swenson began "Qui la voce" at 10 PM on the dot. Makes you want to go into the Met with an Uzi!

Well, that wasn't quite so bad by itself, but two people several seats to my right were whispering all throughout the performance, starting with the overture. Try telling them that opera is music, not just singing. To make matters even worse, when Act II began, the family behind me started ruffling through plastic bags and containers, and, I suspect, even eating. Two cell phones - not from this family - went off during "Cielo e mar", adding to the cacophany. I kept glaring at the noisemakers throughout the aria - and shushing them too (so did other people), but it didn't work. During the applause, I turned to one of the kids, who I thought in the darkness was a teenager, but turned out only to be about 10 (If I had known, I would have started with yelling at the parents) and hissed "Thanks for ruining this great aria!". They continued to crackle during "Stella del marinar" and the duet, and kept going until the end of the act despite repeated glaring and shushing and even "SHUT UP!". I probably should have said something to them at that point, but I didn't want to start a fight, so I just moaned with some sympathetic fellow operagoers who weren't happy about these crude, thoughtless people either. I thought about moving, but I wasn't sure where the empty seats were - the house was pretty sold out.

I thought that when Act III began, they would settle down and stop, but no. In addition to the noise they were already making, one of the kids was actually scratching the velvet lining of the railing between the rows! That's something that never even occurred to me! This time when I tried to shush them the father said - very loud - 'What? I can't hear you. I can't hear you."

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

Finally, when the act ended, I decided to actually give them the benefit of the doubt and be polite about all the trouble they caused, as they may have been simply totally ignorant (and deaf, considering that they couldn't hear everybody shushing) rather than deliberately rude. Not to mention, I figured the kids would eventually grow up and if they actually were to become decent opera fans, they couldn't have the stereotype of opera lovers as snobbish and stuckup. I remembered how I brought one of those gourmet lollipops (Linda's Lollies, which comes in about 100 flavors, has about 100 calories, and lasts about 3 days) into Salome back in 2005 and was happily sucking it when after during a break the woman standing next to me told me I was making noise. I had no idea, since I couldn't hear anything. I immediately and profusely apologized, wrapped the candy up, and put it away.

So I turned to them and said, "Listen, I don't know if you realize it, but you are making a lot of noise and you're disturbing people, please be more careful." The father said. "We are trying to enjoy the aftereffect of this great scene and you have problems. Shut up." OK, he didn't actually say "shut up", but that was certainly the tone. Now I know who is really snobbish and stuckup. I was in tears. I then did something I've never done - I actually went to the usher and asked him to throw them out. Now I know this guy and he is not the world's nicest person, so I figured he'd put them in their place. When he tried to tell family to quiet down, the father kept screaming at him and telling him to get his fingers out of his face. I still don't see why he didn't call security, although the final act was about to begin and this guy was making such a fuss it would have further disturbed the performance. I can only wish my regular usher friend Annie was there - she wouldn't have been cowed quite so easily.

That was the last straw. There were now empty seats because people had left due to the opera's length and I suspect these yobbos - so I grabbed my coat and moved three rows down - even 4 rows away, I could still hear them making noise! And the woman who was now next to me kept zipping and unzipping her purse.

As you can imagine, the performance was totally ruined. I wouldn't have minded this all that much if this was a mediocre performance - under those circumstances, this debacle might have been funny in retrospect. But even with the distractions and the rage and the tears and the numbness, I could tell it was a magnificent one. I have the feeling Marcello Giordani, in particular, gave probably the best work I've ever seen from him, which is saying a lot - maybe enough to put his Enzo into the pantheon of Greatest Tenor Performances I Have Heard Live which so far includes Placido Domingo's Ghermann, Ben Heppner's Walther von Stolzing, Roberto Alagna's Don Jose, and Phillip Langridge's Captain Vere.

I hope some kind soul can get me a copy from Sirius. I can't go again as the remaining performances conflict with Simchat Torah and my chorus rehearsal (I already missed one for this perormance!). Even without that, going again wouldn't help all that much because the Enzo is going back to Aquiles Machado (decent tenor, lovable Rodolfo, but likely completely miscast), and as good as everyone else may be, it was Giordani who got the brunt of the noise and I don't think Machado can cure my pain.

It's going to be days at least before I recover enough to comment on the performance itself. And I am going to write to Gelb and ask him while he's advertising the Met to advertise proper operatic etiquette. Although you would think that most of it is common sense and decency.

Oh, and if the Enzo had been The Originally Scheduled Roberto Alagna, the byword of this post would not be "suicidio" but "morte" - as in murder!

Operatic Orgy On The Way!

On my way to buy a ticket for last night's New York Philharmonic Concert of L'Enfant Et Les Sortileges and Saint-Saens Symphony #3 (The "Organ" Symphony) - a review should follow sometime within the next few millennia - I was finally able to buy most of this year's Met tickets. It took this long because my work friend Alfred (whose first opera, with me, was Angela's Traviata last year - hard act to follow) wanted to come along and we had to agree on dates. It turns out that we're only going to see Simon Boccanegra together at this point (splurging for the Balcony), and if he decides to go with me a particular night we'll see if there are any seats or standing room left.

So here's the list:

10/10/06: Idomeneo (Heppner, Roschmann, Makarina, Jepson)

10/11/06: La Gioconda (Urmana, Borodina, Giordani, Mishura, Lucic, Burchuladze)

10/16/06: Faust (Vargas, Swenson, Hakala, Abdrazakov)

11/02/06: Rigoletto (Pons, Siurina, Calleja, Herrera, Burchuladze)

11/16/06: Il Barbiere di Siviglia (Braun, Florez, Damrau, Ramey, Del Carlo)

11/21/06: La Bohème (Villazon, Marambio, Glanville, Coleman-Wright)

11/30/06: Don Carlo (Botha, Racette, Borodina, Pape, Ramey)

12/19/06: Rigoletto (Alvarez, Siurina, Bieczala - debut, Aldrich - debut, Lloyd)

A huge Flute blitz: Both casts of The Magic Flute on the matinees of 12/31/06 and 01/01/07, plus the evening Die Zauberflöte on New Year's Day (Strehl, Milne, Miklosa, Pogassov, Pape, Lloyd )

01/30/07: Cavelleria Rusticana (Zajick, Poretta, Delavan) and I Pagliacci (Stoyanova, Licitra, Ataneli)

02/08/07: I Puritani (Netrebko, Kunde, Vassalo, Relyea)

02/19/07 and 02/27/07: Simon Boccanegra (Hampson, Gheorghiu, Giordani, Furlanetto, and I think Vassily Gerello is Paolo Albani). The first one is the joint Balcony performance with Alfred.
03/01/07: Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (Morris, Botha, Hong, Ketelsen, Nikitin, Zifchak)

03/22/07: Andrea Chenier (Heppner, Urmana, Delavan)

04/17/07: Giulio Cesare (Daniels, Swenson, Coote, Bardon, Zazzo)

04/24/07: Giulio Cesare (Zazzo, de Niese, Coote, Grove, Thompson)

04/26/07: Il Barbiere di Siviglia (Mattei, Brownlee - debut, Di Donato, Relyea, Del Carlo)

05/02/07: Orfeo et Euridice (Daniels, Milne, Murphy). I tried to get tickets to a non-premiere night, but the only performance that wasn't sold out was on a Friday.

Total: $465. Thank heavens I got a credit limit increase. And Alfred was really nice to pay me back right away.

That's still the first round. I definitely want to at least look into The First Emperor, Jenufa, Die Ägyptiche Helene, and Il Trittico, and possibly one of the Giordani Bohèmes. I regret to say that apart from a few $110 Side Parterre Seats in one performance, Madama Butterfly is totally sold out. So is the Villazon/Netrebko Bohème (and I can't go to their Gala because it's the second night of Passover). I guess I has to takes my chances with Standing Room. And I do want to see some things at NYCO and other (non-operatic) venues. I still haven't been able to see Carmen with Rinat Shaham and Latonia Moore - I was indisposed for opening night, and Shaham was indisposed for September 30! Glad I was "stuck" at Barnes & Noble all that night. Poor woman first gets a cold and then her husband's stomach flu! Wishing her a refuah shleimah.

Two amusing notes. The consecutive Idomeneo, Gioconda, and Faust performances have ascending seat numbers - I107, I108, and I109, and the second Boccanegra is I110! Also, when I stopped in the Met Shop, one of the salespeople was wearing a kimono! No, it's not a brilliant Gelb marketing idea, but the woman's own idea, and not intended for advertising Butterfly. She apparently bought it on the street for only $36.

I also had a nice conversation with the man at the ticket window - it takes a while to check through 22 tickets! I regret to say I've already forgotten his name. He's been at the Met 19 years, apparently at the ticket window. I realize that people tend to have looong careers there (sometimes too long, Mr. Volpe), but I was surprised he wasn't promoted or didn't come up from another position. He remembers me coming probably since I started coming in 1993.

Well, tonight begins Sukkot, so a chag sameach to those who are observing it and Ramadan Mubarak to anyone observing that - and if I've forgotten any other faith's holiday, may that be happy too. I will be going to a Sukkot party/Ramadan break-fast at Park Slope Synagogue on Sunday night, which I imagine will be a wonderful followup to the joint Yom Kippur/Ramadan break-fast we had at my beloved B'nai Jeshurun. There will actually be a brief story about this on PBS' Religion and Ethics Weekly, probably at 6PM Sunday. I'll report on both soon, probably in conjunction with my Idomeneo review (you can probably figure out why)