Needless to say, James Levine's rotator cuff is now uncontested for the #1 spot on the official Wellsung shit list. Let's just hope the universe sees fit to rechannel a tenth of that man's art into other vessels over the next several months, or it is going to be a cold spring indeed.
The situation is this: we've got about ten hours of Wagner coming down the pike with our names on it. And not just any ten hours, but ten hours we have been madly fantasizing about for the balance of a year. Ten hours which have shimmered like a beacon of opera goodness in dark hours of lameness and half-assedness (*cough R&J cough*). Ten hours which shall bring to fruition nearly a year of wandering in the wilderness of Wagner on record, nibbling despondently at woodland roots and berries while all the time yearning in vain to feast upon the hearty meats of live performance!
So whoever they get better not fuck it up.
La Cieca's network of informants says Asher Fisch is the likely pick. I liked his Rigoletto fine, but Wagner? Any inklings, people? At dinner the other night, G mentioned Gergiev might be in contention, which I think I would be into. Vincent at Wagner Operas floated a bunch of fun names before the official word came down, but I suppose one shouldn't get attached, considering rescheduling these people on a month's notice is only slightly less improbable than an honest sentence escaping the lie hole Scotty McClellan calls his mouth.
Which is all a roundabout way of saying: best wishes to Maestro Levine for a speedy recovery and come back soon!