Not dead yet...the blog, that is, not Jokanananaan

As expected/hoped for/dreamed about incessantly for the past 3 years, Karita Mattila (that's Katrina Ma-TEE-la for the two guys next to me on the way out) TEARS SHIT UP in the Salome on view at the Met right now. Saw last night's perf, and was sorely not disappointed: and its not just that all those things we love about her were in effect--that brilliant pealing put-your-stomach-in-knots and die from the beauty sound soaring over the Strauss-sized band--but also that her Salome is a real KM original. I mean, did anyone doubt that it would be? Her Salome is NASTY. Not like mean nasty--like Britney Spears with no hair or underwear leearing at the paparazzi nasty. She fearlessly internalizes the fundamental grossness of the piece and it pays off in an experience of the work that is leaps and bounds more visceral and thought provoking than other Salomes on the market right now. I mean, that last scene is not just "priddy" and "awesome" with KM at the helm: it is INTERESTING. I'm going back in about a week. J is going to be there every night. Remember: empty seats at Mattila Salome make baby jesus cry, so go get yours now.

P.S. I don't want it to corrupt the basic greatness of KM, but there is a serious snooze fest going on in the pit with replacement Patrick Summers, as Sieglinde discusses here. Like, isn't this a fun piece to conduct? Even a little bit? Throw as a bone, man. You kept waiting for the good moments to pop as intended and all that came out was dreary academic time beating. Orchestrally it was just non-stop Salome blue balls the whole evening. BLARG.