Götterdämmerung: Two nights only...

Well, as we all know, the cost of this infernal recession now stands at 10.2% unemployment and exactly one complete Ring Cycle. Watching the first installment of WNO's very enjoyable "Götterdämmerung - IN CONCERT" last night, though, I preferred to think of more romantic reasons for the spare presentation--perhaps they had a full production in the bag, but on the eve of the big show, the mean ol' Republicans in Congress heard about the new and improved and topless Pocahontas-Rhinemaidens in FZ's production and decided to padlock the warehouse, but then Irene Theorin and Alan Held and the rest of the WNO gang got together and decided they didn't need any fussy old sets to tell the timeless story of Götterdämmerung, and decided to just go ahead and do the show in their street clothes on a bare stage and it was a big success and they all learned the true meaning of Christmas. Or something.

In any event, musically this installment held its own, and surpassed in some areas, the previous WNO Ring installments. I continue to go back and forth about Irene Theorin, but its mostly forth at this point. She's a convincing actress, of course, and when she hits her mark, the soaring lines are definitely more rich than strident and a cut above other work-a-day Brunnhildes who have the stamina and accuracy but not a crumb of the vocal splendor one so desperately wants. Some local observers were complaining about her too-quiet middle and lower register in the recent Ariadne here (which I really loved, despite some faults) and I think one must conclude that a) she really doesn't have much juice down there, but b) the woman appreciates, and knows how to work, a good piano. The low-key portions of the immolation scene, for instance, were quiet and lovely and quite surprising. But then again, I imagine the Theorin nay-sayers on Ariadne probably don't care too much about her lower register here.

So, not sure when this happened, but seems the tenor troubles made plain during the Ariadne run with the previously engaged Siegfried(s) may have been too much, and they called in Jon Frederic West. Now, I can see how at the Met, with the full Wall of Sound in effect, West's voice may come off a tad small, but in the Kennedy Center its just the right size and sounds great. He's extremely lyrical and precise, and except for an occasional back-of-the-throat thing he does to keep big notes in check it is a sweet, winning tone with none of the strained hootiness one is used to suffering at Siegfried's hands. He is also a total goofball. While using the score a lot more than the rest of the cast due to shorter preparation time (I imagine), he also chose to mime the shit out of everything, "Our Town" style--he even tried to hold onto the Speer for Theorin to grab in the oath section, only to be left hanging--cold, Irene, just cold. Oh, and when Brunnhilde finally turned to notice him in Act II, he did this amazing big dumb "how ya doin'" grin that elicited a huge laugh from the audience. I suppose in a full production, one might label this "bad acting", but in the context of the scrappy quasi-concert setup, it was awfully enjoyable.

Gidon Saks made quite an impression as Hagen, with a large, booming sound in the middle-lying passages and an irrepressible portrayal which came off despite the obvious limitations. This Hagen was inviting and masterful, sinister but not repellent, manipulating the other characters through the force of his personality and intelligence rather than simply taking advantage of their stupidity and blindness. It must be said, though, that the lower register was a reach for him, and one missed the basso splendor of the Hagen who can go deep and sound like he could hang out there all day.

The rich Waltraute of Elizabeth Bishop also deserves a mention. It's a hit or miss scene, I think, and she made it quite compelling, both in her sad portrait of Wotan and in the fiery scolding of Brunnhilde, where Bishop expertly captured the haughty superiority coloring Waltraute's desperation. Another great half-staging moment: when Brunnhilde finally tells her to get off her rock, Theorin pointed off stage, Waltraute picked up her score and stalked offstage in her concert gown and heels with ATTITUDE.

As for the Gibich kids, I think we can all imagine what a great Gunther Alan Held makes, so I will leave it at that. As for Gutrune, let me just say that this Bernadette Flaitz totally nails everything that is funny and ludicrous about Gutrune, i.e., everytime she comes onstage its the operatic equivalent of a Stacy alert. People, can we start agreeing that Gutrune should actually be played as a character part, like Mime? It's all there in her music, you just need to have the courage to not make her a lame romantic side character but rather the ur-hose beast.

Philipe Augin turned in a thoughtful and exacting performance from the pit, in the Wagner-as-chamber music vein (in keeping with the WNO's modest forces). Augin rarely let a motif get by with rushed or perfunctory phrasing--the opening and dawn transitions in the first and second acts were masterfully built from their constituent parts with many beautiful details revealed. His Funeral March needs to be highlighted for special praise, instead of going for the savagery (not that that's a bad thing) he put together a mesmerizing essay on the microdynamics of the passage. Were I to quibble, I'd say at times he failed to capture the appropriate momentum--for instance, the meat of the Act II confrontation scene plodded and the Act II chorus lacked some of the rollicking bravura drive it can achieve.

The WNO orchestra played with great distinction and responsiveness, save for some occasional messiness in the exposed brass lines, and really, what are you gonna do? One does note that the wall-shaking one wants in parts of Götterdämmerung just isn't possible here, but that doesn't make it any less credible a performance.

As for the "production", WNO did a good job with a tricky situation. Keeping the orchestra in the pit and only the relevant singers on stage (against some of the cloud backdrops from previous installments and minimal lighting) did a lot to focus one's attention on the story, despite the lack of, you know, sets. And while there were some silly (but delicious) moments, as described above, there were also a couple of inspired choices. For instance, instead of having Siegfried do his death section with the vassals et al. standing around, the front scrim came down and Jon Frederic West sang it alone, sitting in a chair illuminated by a single spotlight. The effect of having this exquisite moment--usually accompanied with the tenor sprawled in some godforsaken position, covered in sweat, making excessive death gurgles, and about an inch from expiring himself--done perfectly straight brought it an intimacy that was quite haunting and emotionally affecting. Likewise with two of Brunnhilde's moments: the section before the trio at the end of Act II and the entire immolation--both done with Irene Theorin standing alone at the center of the stage. I have to imagine this setup would be a bit of a chore for someone coming to Götterdämmerung fresh, but for someone reasonably familiar with the proceedings, there were lots of interesting opportunities to meditate on the piece without the constant grinding of scenery and rustling of bearskins. One wonders what else might benefit from the recession treatment...

UPDATE: Hmmm...Charles Downey of Ionarts differs with my assessment of the comedic gifts of last night's Gutrune:

The supporting cast was equally strong, with the exception of the flimsy Gutrune of Bernadette Flaitz, who seemed ill.

In hindsight, I suppose one should tread carefully with one's conclusions about a singer who appears to be mining their company debut in Götterdämmerung for maximum laffs, but something about it was working for me...

UPDATE II: Some other positive and thoughtful reviews in from WaPo, WaTi, and Wagneroperas.net. There seems to be general consensus that Jon Frederic West was straining by the end, but I honestly didn't hear it. His death scene was subdued but hardly inaudible, and as described above, this was an arresting choice. Maybe I'm just used to "straining" in this part meaning "blowing vocal cords and making ungodly screech noises" and I can't tell the gradations anymore.

At any rate, with this kind of coverage, next week's encore is going to be a hot ticket. Pretty nice coup for a plan B...

Vogt

Great assessment of the K. Flo-Vo conundrum from jfl at Ionarts:

Vogt is a stranger bird, altogether. With his odd, or perhaps lacking, technique, one wonders how many trained but struggling tenors listen to him thinking: “I’m stuck in the boonies and he’s got a world class career with that!?” Well, the difference is that whenever his voice ‘fits’, he has something no one else does. Since the listener/viewer only cares about the result, not what went into it, that’s more than sufficient. Klaus Florian Vogt’s special quality—“strange” doesn’t begin to describe its chorister-metallic-behind-the-forehead-bell-like character—certainly takes getting used to, but when he’s playing outsiders or introverted characters (Lohnengrin, Walter von Stolzing), that’s easy, because its distinctive character makes immediate dramatic sense. For it to make sense as Florestan, it will take longer than two arias in one evening. With him in that role, there is at least no doubt who’s wearing the pants in the two characters’ relationship—not just during, but also before and after his incarceration.

That pretty well expresses my feelings after the Met Lohengrin a few years back and the Bayreuth Meistersingers I've listened to on the radio. You can use "ethereal- space-alien-like" as a prefix for any portrayal he does like you can "lusty" for Domingo's roles. But once you hear that sound you need it again and again...

PS, here's a clip, though of course it doesn't get at how freaky loud that sweet voice sounds in the opera house:

Gotterdammerung for under $100 a day!

A: WNO just sent a nice preparatory note for gotterdammerung reminding ticketholders of its length and telling them about how they can get food
J: hah
A: and somewhat erroneously calling it a "once-in-a-lifetime event"
A:considering it is a somewhat pedestrian cast and there are two performances
J: yeah and that it's downgraded from a full production
A: "Rarely, if ever, is Gotterdammerung mounted with so little to recommend it...you won't want to miss it!"
A: "Where most companies would just walk away, WNO delivers! Be there!"
J: it's so true
J: like, learn to fold gracefully
A: "I mean, at least its still Gotterdammerung, right? A singular event!"
A: huh
A: Sondra Radvanovsky is Gutrune in this 2000 Gdams on sirius
A: random
J: huh
A: that part makes luxury casting really boring

'08 - '09 Season Reviews

• Götterdämmerung (Met)
• Die Walkure (Met)
• Peter Grimes (WNO)
• Sonnambula (Met)
• Lucia (Met)
• Tristan (Met)
• Salome (Met)
• Ariadne (ROH)

Siegfried Follies

A: hey
A: you are def not traveling for siegfried, right?
J: nah
J: I think I will skip
A: k
J: maybe for Ragtime tho
A: just wanted to check before
A: i pull a trigger
A: right
A: newt gingrich was sending twitter updates from the premeire
J: hah!!
J: what did he say?
A: he made a joke (i think) about siegfried waterboarding mime
A: tho that might actually happen
A: i couldn't tell from the review
J: hah!
A: apparently the siegfried was sick, but the cover didn't know the blocking or something
J: oh man
A: so he sang it from offstage while the main guy acted it out
J: weird
J: the whole thing??
A: that's what it sounded like
A: does a place like WNO not rehearse a cover for siegfried?
J: they are just in way over their heads with this Ring
A: yeah
A: jeez
A: wapo: "While MacAllister's Siegfried gave it his all, Lindskog's Siegfried, confronted with a whole lot of woman, finally let hormones trump his puzzlement and ended up rolling around with her on the stage so energetically that his body kept the final curtain from coming fully down until Theorin prompted him to roll out of the way."
J: oy
A: may just go thsi evening and get it over with
J: I am trying to figure out is Macallister is that awful tristan I saw
A: this video of obama at a burger place today is fun
A: hm
A: i don't know if this is quite pc
J: heh
J: I'll tell you this much
J: that exhibit sounds dull as dishwater
A: SERIOUSLY
A: in celebration of the WNO's production of turandot, we preesnt a panel discussion around the themes of Puccini's work entitled Turandot: Brutality of the Chinaman
J: National Geographic Presents "Brutally Decapitate Your Suitor: An Examination of China's Rich Cultural Past"
A: i would really like it if they unearthed a bunch of puccini's turn of the century asian porno
J: esp if they all looked like Jane Eaglen and Ghena Dimitrova, but Chinese
A: haha

Klavier Trio Amsterdam and "Riskiness"

So, per the Douglas McLennan post I discussed below, I kept thinking about his suggestion that the performances we encounter today may not be "risky" enough. The idea of "riskiness" in classical performances sort of stuck in my craw, because it seems like a pretty poor descriptor for many of the performances I find most memorable.

Clearly, "riskiness" in its most common meaning is a good criterion for certain works...no use seeing an Elektra that refuses to take any risks, right? But as a blanket expectation, it makes me think more of the best in Madonna than the best in, say, Andras Schiff. I want to leave a performance of Bach saying that it was exquisite, or shattering, or transcendental, but not necessarily "risky" which implies, to some degree, aesthetic choices deliberately designed to jar an audience, as much for the disorientation itself as for any deeper aesthetic value. Again, it certainly has its place, but I'm skeptical about it as an all-purpose artistic goal, especially when we're talking about the performance of centuries old masterpieces. Calling Vivaldi "risky", even when you have everyone onstage naked, just always sounds like desperate marketing to me.

Then I went to a concert given by the Klavier Amsterdam Trio the other night (this time at the French embassy, as opposed to the Corcoran concert reviewed here). Folks, if you're looking for a definition of risky concertizing, then I have the trio for you.

The whole affair started innocently enough, with Klara Wurtz playing a brilliant but sweet rendition of the Bach Partita No. 1. I have sort of a hard time objectively reviewing Bach beyond saying that it worked and I was in total rapture or it didn't work and I was bothered. This worked. Then Joan Berkheimer (on keys) and Nadia David (on cello) came out and did Dvorak's Sonatine Op. 100, followed by Ravel's Tzigane, with Berkheimer on violin and Wurtz back on keys. This was not the sort of performance one finds on a studio recording. Both pieces were very raw, very passionate, and totally heedless of proasic niceties like ensuring a consistently priddy sound. And both efforts were totally captivating. Berkheimer's violin in (the?) Tzigane crackled with cutting sounds of great emotion and seductiveness, juxtaposed with almost terrifying ones. Nadia David in the Sonatine sawed away at her cello with abandon, chasing, almost desperately, this really deep, rich, exciting sound she is able to produce. After the break was the main event, Dvorak's Dumky trio. Again, this was not a performance aimed at having the harmonies lock in perfect equilibrated balance, this was a performance about wringing some blood out of the thing. And blood they wrang.

Anyhow, definitely some risks being taken there, and with quite thrilling results. Still, I wonder if we benefit more from understand a performance like this as a distinctive interpretation, instead of an exercise in boundary pushing...

Morris out

Caught the very end of tonight's Walkure, the last Leb Wohl for J-Mo. Oh, it was a little raggedy I guess...whatever. It's sort of amazing that for two decades he's been the face of this production, indeed, one of the institutions of opera in New York in the late 20th century.

It's the obvi thing to post, but c'mon, tell me it doesn't get you just a little choked up still. This vulnerable, rash, conflicted, overwhelmingly human portrayal has defined Wotan for a generation of American operagoers, and kept the Ring alive in our minds:



UPDATE: JSU has a lovely closing paragraph about Morris at the end of his review of last night...

He deserved all of the huge ruckus (and love) he inspired at curtain calls -- and more -- but I thought his performance and success here to be almost beyond applause, the sort of thing at which one just goes home in quiet disbelief. He visibly trembled this time as he grasped Brünnhilde at the last -- was it as himself, or as Wotan? What difference, at this point, could there be?

Some thoughts on recordings

A swell post from Douglas McLennan here. (Though I thought we were doing a moratorium on titles including violence to classical music, i.e. "the death of/"who killed"/"the death throes of", etc...)

McLennan raises two points: 1) that the excessive focus on perfectionism in classical studio recordings is problematic and that we should think about a return to live recordings, and 2) that the perfectionism performers seek in the studio may lead to less risky, more homogenous live performances.

I find the second point a bit less convincing. Besides recordings, I can think of a lot of reasons why performers turn in performances which seem more homogenous today--the general level of technical proficiency is higher, competition is greater, and jet travel means you (and the audience) have constant opportunities to assess that competition. International concertizing is a high profile, winner-takes-all profession like any other. As there are more people in the world who are reaching for that brass ring, the prerequisites for entry, those things that entrants can ensure are optimized, are all pushed to the limit, i.e., if you want to be Babe Ruth in the 21st century, the first thing you need to do is lose some weight and stop drinking in the club house. A highly idiosyncratic performer prone to dropping notes just can't make it past the profession's gatekeepers anymore.

But the reasons for better accuracy at least aren't all bad. Today we place a lot more emphasis on performers' fidelity to the composer's score, a benefit of which is that we now actually get to hear what they wrote. I'm pretty sure I heard an interview with Horowitz somewhere where he told a story about some great pianist of the previous generation coming up to him after a concert and being all "WTF. How am I supposed to keep up with you when you're playing all the notes?" (or something to that effect). The advent of studio recording has certainly played a part in this, but I think its hard to disentangle its effect from the whole.

The first point, is the more interesting one, I think, and an area where the opera world may have some lessons for the rest of the classical music world. Opera fans, of course, REALLY love their live recordings. And not just live recordings, but live snippets of all size and quality. Even if one tends to be a wuss about hardcore archival material (like me), there is still a huge amount of great quality live material out there for even the casually interested fan.

Now, live opera recordings don't really compete with studio sets on the store shelf (to the extent that such shelves exist anymore) but the studio sets aren't a substitute for a healthy live recording scene: instead, they serve as reference documents. Opera fans learn about new singers almost primarily by hearing live performances, either snippets on the Internet or through broadcasts and rebroadcasts of live performances. And these recordings are considered far superior to studio efforts in capturing what is exciting about a singer. Its widely acknowledged that you could learn virtually nothing about the experience of seeing Angela Gheorghiu live on a stage from one of her antiseptic studio records. This understanding helps live performance stay at the center of the opera experience, and, I think, inspires some of the excitement and commitment in its fan base that other areas of classical music would like to replicate.

Opera, of course, has an advantage here. The discrepancy between a studio opera or recital recording, with all of its polished edges and preternatural stamina, is so clearly different than the live experience, with its epic struggle between singer and orchestra and myriad opportunities for spectacular failure. Still, there are more mundane, even trivial things that help live recordings achieve that connection. The sound of a live hall. The applause. And yes, the little imperfections that show up. They don't have to be wrong notes--it could be the momentary lapses in coordination that result from an attempt to take a movement at a breakneck pace. A conductor engaging in overindulgent pauses that might seem excessive in the studio but gives the performance extra drama. These are the little things that help bridge the gap between the unreality of riding the subway with your headphones in and being engaged in a performance as though we are there, with the performer, communicating directly. That is the heart of experiencing classical music, and getting back to it should be at the center of the artifacts we create.

Of course, its odd to talk about elements of the live experience as somehow variations on the normal experience when, unlike with pop and rock recordings, the classical music studio recording is by definition a fantasy. One assumes in rock music that all bets are off for whether what one is hearing on the record was performed in one take at the same time. Sure, there is a spectrum, but we expect modern pop musicians to make use of the full possibilities of the studio to create their work, unconstrained by what would be feasible live with no prerecorded elements or mixing voodoo. The recording is the thing--that's what conquers our imagination.

But with classical music recordings, no matter how much you know about how the tracks are pieced together, you can't help but trust the illusion that the piece you are listening to might have happened in a concert hall. And while that illusion can produce many brilliant valuable documents (clearly, I would not give up those meticulously produced Glenn Gould recordings for anything), the document isn't really the thing: it is the live performance. So there is something fundamentally problematic about trying to maintain a vibrant live performance culture when your audience has this notion of a perfectly polished vaccuum-packed sound in its head. More audience members fail to see the utility of going to a live performance if they are simply expecting that flawless sound, while those in the audience have trouble engaging with the performance as a live event, and not just an approximation of the reference recording playing in their head. While conductors and musicians are making choices all the time that make live "live", appreciating those choices unless they are glaringly obvious seems more difficult.

But what to do? More high profile live recordings would be certainly be great. For piano in particular, it would help to blunt the impression of endless re-recordings of the catalogue. Moreover, there is something about a live piano recital recording that really connects a listener to the live experience--the juxtaposition of repertoire, the excitement of being in the same room with the virtuoso--I know I count some live recital recordings as among my most beloved. Record companies could also do more to enable live footage of recitals. You can watch Mattila in almost all of her major roles on Youtube, but there are only a handful of good live clips of Pollini. There are clearly more opportunities to get video of Mattila out there, since operas are broadcast more frequently, but you'd think an enterprising label could do a lot to make up the difference.

Clearly, the economics may be against this. And, as McLennan notes, a lot of performers may insist on strict control of their recorded material out of fear that audiences will be critical of any slip ups (which seems to me a highly irrational fear, but OK). But the current situation is far from ideal. Watching virtuoso performers in person is a sensational experience that truly can't be captured on record. Recordings need to be an incitement to have that experience, rather than a barrier.

Speaking of making live "live":

Get Siegfried

So...just a few words about Saturday's Gotterdammerung matinee before I have to get back to whatever it is that I get paid for these days:

Wow. Hearing Gotterdammerung live (this was my first) is radically different than listening to it in the privacy of your own home. The detail of the soundworld created by the constant interplay of leitmotifs is just completely overwhelming. Parts of Gotterdammerung that I previously sort of glossed over, i.e. the orchestration under the big Act II crowd bits, revealed themselves as marvelously intricate and entertaining. I found myself totally fixated on the trombones--the Met orchestra ones are AMAZING right??? The splendor of the orchestra in general was really on display. I mean, it seems like EVERYONE has a brutal exposed line at some point in Gotterdammerung...maybe not each person in the strings, but definitely every wind player and that has to be like 75 PEOPLE AT LEAST. But the whole thing was a perfect seamless web, like a 200 piece chamber group (that horn who kept f'ing up Walkure two weeks ago either got his shiz together or was off for the day).

I didn't really have time to think about the big picture reading in relation to other Gotterdammerungs in my head, because Jimmy was giving me exactly what I was craving: a reading of just mind blowingly exquisite detail. Levine kept the balance pretty good throughout, though there were a few of the moments with no singing to contend with where he just let the orcehstra do a real ff and that shit was really REALLY loud. Maybe the loudest sound I've ever heard out of the met pit. It was pretty awesome.

As for the singers. As you've probably heard already, Dalayman's Brunnhilde kicked a great deal of ass. The group takeaway (a certain Mr D'Annato will probably go into better detail on this if he writes it up UPDATE: And he has) was that this was a lot more fitting than the Isolde some other people saw and were using as a basis for skepticism about this run. But Gotterdammerung is clearly in a sweet spot for her. If the lower registers don't cut through quite enough, once she gets above a certain line, the voice just explodes with a super secure, loud, and exciting top. Everything was in place for the immolation and she didn't show a hint of strain. It was also a very convincing performance acting n' stuff wise. Her raging about in Act II, topped off with a scintillating oath on the speer, reminded me of the great Gwyneth Jones version of that scene on the '76 Chereau Bayreuth tape.

Franz was fine in Acts I and II. The dawn duet was very confident, though the barky edge is always lurking. Anyhow you can can hear it and all, and I prefer not to look a Siegfried in the mouth. But by the time he got to the woodbird recounting/death scene, which is all one really cares about for him after the dawn duet several hours prior, he was suddenly running on fumes. The final "I'm comin' home baby" section, punch #1 in the emotional one two punch of the third Act, was more or less ineffective on account of him not really singing it at all. Clearly, that is a way difficult thing to do, not helped by lying down and all, but this just didn't work and the final result was poorer for it. Borderline Siegfrieds of the world: maybe one time you should try to mark the speer oath and save it for the death scene. People would knock you during the second intermission but they would leave with a much better impression. Maybe it doesn't work like that, but just sayin', if you have the choice.

Other singing notes: Tomlinson's Hagen was way enjoyable and great acting wise, though the higher areas have sounded richer elsewhere. Points for a super creepy rendition of one of my favorite Gotterdammerung moments: his "here i sit guarding the hall" bit near the end of Act I. Point deduction for a pretty meh "i thought I killed that guy why is he still moving around" noise in Act III. That's like the second best non-singing noise in the ring after Sieglinde's ecstatic "he pulled out the schwert" squeal back in Walkure. Yvonne Naef did a pretty good Waltraute though I didn't really engage with it since that scene is so freaking boring. Jeez. Flag that for the editing pile along with the neverending gimmick about Siegfried hearing Mime's murderous thoughts in Siegfried Act II. The rest of the Gibich family aqcuitted themselves admirably.

Finally, let me just say that the spectacular spectacular at the end of the Schenk Gotterdammerung truly does not disappoint. I mean, I've seen the old video, but they do some of it in close up and you really have no idea what a totally boffo piece of stagecraft it is, and in the opera house no less. Miss Saigon eat yer heart out. LePage's video installation or whatever has its work cut out for it.

***
Boy, there sure are a lot of plot holes in Gotterdammerung aren't there? And one gets 6 hours to ponder them. Now, its possible the translations don't get the real gritty plot details, but I'm skeptical. Just two quibbles I was chewing on, feel free to correct/disagree in comments:

1. People need to get clear on what the Ring actually does. It's sort of OK in the other operas where it is not being passed around so much, but as a plot device it just gets way out of hand in Gdams. Waltraute seems to think if Brunnhilde throws it back in the Rhine Valhalla will be saved. She eventually does just that, but Valhalla still burns up. Does Waltraute just have bad information or something? Brunnhilde seems to think the Ring has superhero powers or something, as she tries to defend herself from faux-Gunther with it. But that clearly does not work as he just plucks it off her finger.

The bigger issue is the conflict between scenario 1: the ring is all powerful and the person who gets it will rule the world, and scenario 2: anyone who gets the ring gets killed. I mean, how long do you have to keep it until world domination and the likely immunity benefits of that status kick in?

Or maybe the ring just doesn't do anything? Maybe it only has the value people give it and people (and gods) are such assholes that the idea that it is valuable leads to everyone offing everyone else? Maybe its sort of like...spacecash? Clever Wagner...

2. So, is it just Siegfried's fuck-up that he pockets the Ring he takes off Brunnhilde's finger when he's faux-Gunther, instead of giving it to real Gunther when he hands over Brunnhilde? But if so, why does he eventually settle on the real story, that he originally won it from a dragon? Does he think to himself "that's odd, how did Gunther's wife get that ring I won?" but try to gloss over it while Brunnhilde is calling him out in public? I mean, him being sort of a careless wife-stealer would go with the territory, but it is kind of a weak pretext for the whole thing coming apart. Are we supposed to believe that Gutrune's whammy eliminated everything between when the woodbird first mentioned Brunnhilde and when he got off his boat at the Gibichung house? But THEN has some additional short term memory consequences? Weaksauce.

PS, I would sort of love to survey the Siegfrieds of the world and find out how big the discrepancies are in their explanations of what is going through the charachters' head at this point.

Much ado about YouTube

Oh man, Greg Sandow is really beating himself up over having to admit that the YouTube Symphony stunt concert thing didn't actually result in terribly impressive music making:

So here's what I heard. (I'd first thought, when I contemplated writing this, that I'd be kind, and not go into detail, because I loved the musicians so much. But given the hype, I''d rather be honest.) Right at the start, when the orchestra began with the third movement of the Brahms Fourth Symphony, there were details unattended to. Small notes were obscured. And the strings were underpowered, compared to the rest of the orchestra...

Does he really feel the need to agonize over sparing the performers' feelings? The feelings of a pickup orchestra of promising amateurs given 3 days rehearsal? More to the point, is it even worth critiquing such a thing as a legitimate concert? This was a cool marketing gimmick by YouTube. It should get a fluff piece, not a legitimate review. I mean, the only way you can be really disappointed about this is if you shared a little bit in the Internets triumphalism which YouTube marketing flacks must surely have been feeling (and who would blame them for such things? that's their job). It's hard not to see this in the context of Sandow's trademark reflex of short changing the traditions of classical music. Building and rehearsing an orchestra of less than professional musicians is a labor intensive business that won't just disappear if you sprinkle some internets on it. So getting disappointed when this is shown to not even be on the same footing of a run of the mill university orchestra is just...kind of bizarre.

This is only part of his issue with the concert though. Perhaps more than the poor playing, it is the excessive praise for the whole endeavor, which is, understandably, part and parcel of a marketing event put on by a private Internet company.

But as things were, the actual playing got a little lost in the sea of self-congratulation. (None of which, I want to stress as strongly as I can, was the musicians' fault. Nor did they participate in it, though the use that was made of their videos helped create the problem.) And there was something very sad in this. To overpraise things, to make them seem better than they are -- and to do this so relentlessly -- degrades standards, just a little.

Now, its a wee bit rich to hear a man who regularly exhorts orchestras to just play louder when they aren't reaching their audience talking about degrading standards. But snark aside, I don't think we should really be worried about the YouTube orchestra. Sandow brings up Andrea Bocelli in comments as an example of the sort of standards creep the YouTube orchestra could lead to. But no one is talking about the YouTube orchestra trying to steal the NYPhil's market share. It was a onetime gimmick.

And you know what? While it is mildly annoying that some people don't properly categorize crossover classical pop stuff for what it is, and it is double annoying when you have to sift through it in the dwindling classical section, Andrea Bocelli is hardly degrading the standards of the opera world. He's in his own crossover classical pop element, and while there's money to be made by blurring the edge a little bit, there's no army of Bocelli's ready to displace the Met roster.

Thinking that Bocelli somehow impacts the taste of the real opera world is troubling in a different way though: because some people start to think that real opera should be able to garner the same CD sales and marketing cachet that the crossover pop world is able to command when that's just never going to be the case, and shouldn't be our goal. Bocelli's 3-minute doses of popera aren't some kind of gateway drug to buying four hour opera sets. Let the Bocelli fans be.

All of which is to say, by confusing what the lines are, Sandow isn't able to appreciate the real import of this marketing stunt, which represents something really powerful and great for classical music. Not some masterplan to get people interested through a flawed one-shot orchestra gimmick, but because it calls attention to the powerful role YouTube and other Internet outlets are playing in cementing an international community of classical music enthusiasts.

Clearly, YouTube has been a powerful force for allowing fans to experience footage of historical performers that is often only available on overpriced DVDs or fleeting PBS specials. More importantly, it allows fans to watch videos of current top artists...YouTube is a revelation for the opera community of course, which can build hype around current singers in a way impossible before. But beyond this, being able to watch great amateur, semi-professional, and up and coming professional musicians is a remarkable way to build enthusiasm around concerts at the local level, and around artists who often don't have the luxury of publicity outlets that their pop colleagues do (local rock radio stations, a viral homemade CD culture, lots of bars to play in).

YouTube clearly recognizes that this is a legitimate lofty purpose for it to emphasize, and has chosen to celebrate that with a high profile "in reality" event, perhaps the greatest recognition a virtual enterprise can give. So who cares who the thing turned out?

Last ride

Well, the audience out there in radioland was not too impressed with Saturday's Walkure, but all in all it was a pretty successful outing in-house. Based on the handful of Wagner I've seen live, I feel like there's a sort of minimum floor for such things, and once that is met, the whole thing basically takes off, i.e., I am REALLY eager to get to a point where I can stop fretting about whether it is good enough and can just bask in the big-dub Wagner of it all.

Just to be contrary, I'll start with the orchestra. Jimmy wasn't making a HUGE impression on me Saturday...everything was nice and in place and stuff, but it didn't feel like much more than the normal polished classiness one expects from The Band. EXCEPT for this guy on the trumpet. Wow. It was like a Heppner Crack^TM horn edition. Dude even whiffed that exposed line the first time you hear the sword motif or whatever. Hopefully they've sent him to whatever penalty box RV is languishing in these days so he can think about what he's done.

JMo, as you can imagine, is near the end of the line. But let's very clear: his Wotan is a towering thing--it has nothing to do with his Scarpia butchering of recent years. The big monologue was gripping, and the Act III dialogue through the Leb Wohl--some of it almost like a whisper (with Jimmy showing maximum sensitivity in restraining the pit so that you could hear all the nuance)--was at times almost unbearable in its bitterness and grief. Not like I still don't want to see this, for instance, but what a tremendous valedictory Wotan this was.

So, as we all know, Botha was out, hopefully sharing a giant divan with Christine Brewer somewhere, and Gary Lehman, last seen riding the scenery in Tristan, stepped in. Lehmann has a seriously powerful instrument, which certainly helps make his Tristan Act III so compelling. But sometimes it was a bit much in the friendlier confines of Walkure Act I. It's a good, exciting sound, but I wanted some more Botha creaminess. That said, he's a fine actor and I don't doubt that I would have sacrificed a lot of the kinetic energy he created with Waltraud for the Botha cream. It should also be noted that his sweet business in Act II was quite enchanting.

Oh man. Waltraud Meier is such a good time on stage. Yes, there are whole swathes of the voice that get lost in the orchestra. And no, the middle is not priddy. But when it is go time, she GOES. As J noted, her top bears an uncanny resemblence to Karita Mattila's thrilling upper reaches, all shivery coolness and hummingbird vibrato. Oh, and when Siegmund pulled the sword out she hit the deck and started writhing around on the floor. So crazy and so perfect. Like her Nordic colleage Waltraud doesn't know how to stop at boring ol' opera. She does THEATRE.

As fer that new Brunnhilde in town. Theorin is quite good. Clearly a notch above the Watson/Gasteen baseline. She's a strong actress too (nice chops all around in this show, really). Now, I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the Brewer "Wall of Sound" I'd been pining after since the Lyric Frau last year...it just feels so nice on the ears. But Theorin was secure up and down the role, earned a solid B+ on her Hojotohos, and, when it really mattered, made a big sound that was decidedly a thrill. Her and Morris had a nice chemistry that brought home all the pathos of the final scene.

I guess everyone's ready to get rid of the nasty old Schenk production, and yeah, you can be traditional and also have a bit of style, and this really doesn't. But it feels a bit strange to think that major houses are just DONE with traditional Ring productions. But compared to my experience with the Washington Ring, where you have to spend a lot of time wading through superimposed layers of meaning, its nice to just focus on, you know, the Ring. It doesn't need to be as bombastic as this, but a naturalistic production isn't the WORST thing.

Watch out 'prentice, Peetah Grimes is glaring at you...

A: just saw the wno peter grimz
J: oh!
J: and?
J: man that Michael Steele is a douche
A: pretty good
A: nice pat racette time
A: christopher ventris was the pg
A: who sounded v nice
A: excepting some rough patches
J: it's a tough sing
J: I loved what's his face who sang it at the met last year
A: oh yeah
A: he sounded nice
J: esp the end part where he's all "Grimes grimes grimes grimes griiiimes"
A: ha
A: i like that part
J: me too
A: when the woman speaks to him the first time after that she should be all "grimes grimes grimes?"
A: just to fuck with him
J: hah
A: the chorus was great
A: how did they do that falling off the cliff thing at the met?
A: it was way dumb here
A: like, the boy just fell off the back of this four foot tall hut
J: they fall off the cliff?
A: and there was this little "EEEEeeeee...." noise
A: when he dies
J: heh
J: I totally don't remember what the Met did
A: the child thrashing was also minimal, relative to what it sounded like there
A: it was mostly really severe pointing
J: haha
J: stern looks

Gala Postgame

J: woo
A: that was SO entertaining right??
J: it was neat
J: nothing was totally amazing, though the Dessay Traviata bit was awesome
A: heppner's fried sounded great
J: oh huh--it was very quiet in the house
J: but he didn't crack
A: interesting
A: i was loving it on the radio
J: DV is so freaking loud
A: d-vo's brunnhilde does not really excite me tho
A: oh yeah?
J: so so loud
J: I was way into her until the very last note
J: the other two insane high notes were excellent
J: anyway, Christine is gonna show us how it's done
A: yeah dude
A: i can't wait for that s***
J: hah Mary Kate Olsen was there
A: that renee tote stadt sounded really nice
J: so pretty
A: they are so close to having a whole tote stadt
A: when is it going to happen
J: I know.....
A: i don't know who would be paul
A: but between thamps and renee making the songs like calling cards
J: I'd be bummed if T Ham were the Harlequin
A: well, prepare youself
J: hah
J: it's such a small part; would he do it?
A: yeah, perhaps not
A: it would def be funny if he was all "get gelb on the phone...tell him i fucking OWN harlequin at the met"
J: he's screaming on the other end with white face paint and huge black eyeleashes
A: haha

Gala 4

So, am I being naive or is this a crazy enjoyable gala? That Renaay Marietta Lied, was, to borrow a phrase from our RNC chairman, "off the hook."

Gala 3

PS, listening to this on crappy computer speakers sux. My laptop can in no way handle Dessay's top. Also PS, why isn't this on TV here in real time? Time was, I wager, that all public stations on the eastern seaboard would have carried something like this live. At least the possibility of seeing a rebroadcast of Met stuff is better in DC than Chicago, where the WTTW has become a glorified infomercial for shitty music DVDs you wouldn't be caught dead purchasing.

Gala 2

Real plush ode to zeff tenor section...the Calleja/Che Gelida Manina was gorgeous...everytime I forget how magically light + rich his voice is. Giordani's Nessun Dorma was real meaty too. That's what it sounds like P. Potts.

Gala

OMG...I am so gay for Ben Heppner's Siegfried. I know it turns out that 50 percent of mentions of him have to do with the spectacular spectacular vocal blowups, but JC this is amazing.

D-Vo...eh. What I'm fantasizing about now is a Heppner-Brewer matchup. Assuming I love her as much as I expect to next month, that could be SICK.

Le Sacre du Sonnambula

J: you really missed quite a scene at the Met tonight
A: yeah?
A: do tell
J: well the new Sonnambula opened with Dessay and Florez
J: and Mary Zimmerman directed it
J: and the whole production was basically mocking how retarded Sonnambula is
A: heh
J: and it was cute and fun
J: and hilarious at the end
J: and Sonnambula is not a comedy
J: so anyway
A: way to redeem yourself MZ
J: the traditionalists in the audience were NONE too pleased
J: and this shit was seriously boo'd
A: whoa
J: like major major boo-age
J: the curtain call ground to a halt
A: hardcore
A: !
J: like, no one took a second bow
J: and it was like a huge Dessay/Florez thing and they were way awesome and everyone was nuts for them
A: damn
A: who knew people were willing to go out on a limb for frreakin' sonnambula
J: so after the curtain call abruptly ended
A: jes
J: well
J: there were these 40ish gays next to us
J: who turned around and sassed the crabby old Long Island people boo-ing behind us
J: this was balcony btw
J: and an argument ensued about whether it was OK to boo like that
J: and it got heated and tons of people were weighing in
J: wow
J: and then finally one of the gays goes "oh whatever! pleas just go back to Long Island."
A: !
J: and the crabby old guy
J: goes "yeah? well go back to Greenwich Village...or CHELSEA! WHERE YOU LIVE!!!"
A: oh snap
J: and the gay guy just calmly said "wait...that's supposed to be a bad thing?"
A: heh
A: nice
J: man
J: that was nuts
A: its like the rite of spring premeire but for...sonnambula
J: at the end Dessay just puts on this hilarious like swiss miss dress and starts dancing around like a crazed fool
J: it's so excellent
A: hah!
A: that is good

Albums from the deep

Ripped this meme-note thing off Facebook, as it seemed like a good blog exercise. The instructions are:

Think of 15 albums that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life or the way you looked at it. They sucked you in and took you over for days, weeks, months, years. These are the albums that you can use to identify time, places, people, emotions. These are the albums that no matter what they were thought of musically shaped your world. When you finish, tag 15 others, including me. Make sure you copy and paste this part so they know the drill. Get the idea now? Good. Tag, you're it.

So just to be clear, you don't have to be proud of them or even really like the specific recording anymore, but you do need to be able to identify a period where you listened to the record, cassette tape, CD, or computer file over and over again ad nauseum because you just couldn't get enough. To that end, I think it is also nice to arrange them chronologically in the order you heard them. I like that there are 15, so you can get a good chunk of time in...of course, 15 allows you to be a little bit choosy about what you include, but do try to make it interesting.

Here's what I'm going with:

1. Roxette - Look Sharp
2. La Boheme - Beecham; Bjorling, De los Angeles
3. Counting Crows - August and Everything After
4. Rachmaninoff Second Piano Concerto - Rachmoninoff himself playing, Philadelphia?
5. Bob Dylan - Nashville Skyline
6. Simon and Garfunkel - Sounds of Silence
7. Cosi fan Tutte - Ostman; Drottingham Orch
8. Grateful Dead - American Beauty
9. Sweeney Todd - Orig. B'way Cast
10. Phoebe Snow - Greatest Hits
11. Well Tempered Clavier Bk 1 - Glenn Gould
12. Leonard Cohen - Greatest Hits
13. Nanci Griffiths - Other Voices, Other Rooms
14. Lohengrin - Solti; Domingo, Norman, etc.
15. Old Crow Medicine Show - OCMS
16. Brahms Requiem - Previn/RPO

Oops. That was 16. Oh well. Anyhow, I don't think I'm going to tag 15 people (tagging has grown excessive, no?), but I would sort of like to see what Maury and Lisa Hirsch and Patrick the PW have to say about this, so you may consider yourselves tagged if you pass by this way. The rest of you should just do it if you feel so inclined, in comments or at your own space...

Milk

Well, it appears the Indians edged out the gays at the Oscars last night, but Sean Penn getting Best Actor and Dustin Lance Black getting original screenplay were both pretty good consolation prizes. And these things needed to be said, at the Oscars, in recognition of this remarkable movie, in this trying year:





If you haven't seen it, can you PLEASE go see it now? I know you are thinking that it is a tedious political biopic that you already agree with, but it is really so much better than that. It is one of the few movies about a political figure I have seen that manages to totally avoid dumbing down the subject material and turning it into a historical "Behind the Music" episode. The drama in Milk is the drama of the ideas and emotional themes of the time. Also, it is beautifully made and filled with fascinating period details. Go!

Well Played: Lyric Opera

Looks like LOC took my advice from the other week and threw together a very choice new website, replete with fancy seat selector and everything! Check it.

Mendelssohn shout-out

Before it passes, let's take a moment for the 200th anniversary of Mendelssohn's birth. From the Songs Without Words:



I remember my mother playing these as a child--like Chopin they have this deep melancholy sound which you never really forget, and I was fascinated by the title.

A little later, Mendelssohn's Laudate Pueri was a beloved staple in the choir I sang in, as it was for so many other children's choirs:



Still later, I learned about the spectacular violin concerto. Here's Heifetz:



Something I read a little while ago was trying to distinguish between Mendelssohn and say, Wagner, by noting that however enjoyable Mendelssohn is, the history of music would nonetheless have progressed as it did. Maybe that's true, but, well, just see Matthew Guerreri in regards to this:

"Greenpoint"

Love this.

So sweet

Not too much of note going on at Lyric next season (PDF? Seriously? LOC needs to fix its internets situation stat). Though there is the small matter of...MATTILA IN KATA KABANOVA!!!!!

Goes a little something like this:



You're going to need a doctor's note to justify missing this one.

Hot Steva

Check it (h/t J):



Update: More hot Steva. This guy is really good:

Yikes

What is going on with our sweet, sweet Giuseppe Filianoti? I know this has been brewing for a while, the La Scala thing, etc., but I hadn't really focused on it before listening to the Rigoletto b-cast today. I mean, he didn't pull any Heppners, but it was worse--Heppner of course sounds brilliant the entire rest of the time, while the the sound here was generally labored and off putting throughout.

Three years ago, after seeing one of those celebrated Lucias, I believe I referred to him as "some kind of kick-ass opera cyborg" due to his beautiful tone and inhuman breath control. Today? It sounds like he's been possessed by the spirit of bad night late stage Alagna.

The juxtaposition of his and RV's troubles is disturbing. I mean, won't anyone please think of the tenors? Why are these two brilliant voices essentially toasted before 40?

Rolandon't

J: dude
A: yes?
J: seriously disastrous Lucia tonight
A: oh no
J: Villazon is toast, man
A: brutal
A: sad
A: like, unpleasant, or seriously fucked up
J: like, Heppner bad
A: !!!
A: oh shit
A: that is so awkward
J: he bailed before act 3
J: and so did we
A: sometimes everyone just needs to walk away
J: he went for this one not-that-high note
J: at the end of the quintet
J: and he held it forever but it sounded like....sandpaper
A: christ jesus
J: and then
J: he just stopped
J: and Trebs was staring at him and the audience gasped
J: it was such good stuff
A: oh. my. god.
J: and then he just collected himself and did the note again!
J: and it was better
A: wha???
J: then he sorta fumbled to the finish
A: rolando
A: honestly
A: what the f
J: Rolandon't
A: Roland'oh
J: Trebs is so shitty in Bel Canto
A: eh
A: yeah
A: was she cute with the baby pudge?
J: she is cute
A: you missed the bonkers scene tho?
J: yeah, she didn't sound good in this and I bet people cheered for nine minutes
J: it would have been annoying
A: that's fair
A: well
A: i mean, back in the day, i.e. 2005
A: it was always like that doesn't sound comfortable but i guess he knows what he is doing
J: right
A: so the vocal chickens have come home to roost
J: the opera chickens.
J: welcome home.
J: oh no, Villazon's wife's name is Lucia
A: oops
A: did you go with greg?
J: yeah
A: are there many more?
J: there are 3 more
A: arg
A: why is she doing this stuff
A: one does a certain thing well
A: why not stick with it?
A: its not like a cop out
A: its just not doing stuff you KIND OF SUCK AT on the met stage
J: she should sing:
J: Suor Angelica
A: word
J: Manon
A: YES
J: which she does
J: Manon Lescaut
J: I want her to try Butterfly
J: it's a big voice
A: renaay don't own that no' mo'
J: esp on top
A: trebs can get in on that
J: and like...do Russian stuff!
A: OMG
A: yes
A: where is the russian stuff!?!?
J: like, that soprano role in Mazeppa
J: shed own that shit
A: damn
A: that would be rad
A: where was she for that mazeppa?
A: why did we have that random woman?
A: that could have been like a big time trebs show
J: I may need to put on that Mazeppa

Holiday Movie PSA

No opera opportunities over the holiday, but I did manage to hit up some of the holiday season/Oscar bait offerings. Be advised:

1. Milk - OK. This is just so clearly the only legitimate contender for Best Picture. No, I haven't seen the old baby man Brad Pitt picture yet, but I kind of feel like I can still claim preemptive outrage that it is going to be considered serious competition. I read the Randy Shilts book in high school I think, and couldn't stop thinking about what an amazing big time movie biopic Harvey Milk would make if done properly, and lo these many years later, it has arrived. Milk is a deeply affecting and serious movie about history and politics and ideas and questions directly relevant to the moment, both Prop 8 and the prospects for a broader re-invigoration of a national politics about equality and civil rights (Rick Warren speed bump aside. WTF Obama???).

The depth of Sean Penn's portrayal of Harvey Milk is shocking. He does something infinitely harder than playing a hero or martyr: he demonstrates how people actually make politics out of relationships. How do you even start to figure out how to play that? His death at the end is devastating, not because you're mourning for the movement, but because you've grown so attached to his character.

Moreover, it is just an incredibly well made movie. Gus van Sant is able to totally avoid the usual pitfalls of the biopic that can make such movies feel like plodding chores. Nor does it have that annoying historical sheen. In the phrase of the Variety review, Milk fills "lived in". Also, the documentary footage is impeccably interspersed, used sparingly enough to avoid undermining the new footage.

Reading about it since seeing it, I feel like maybe there is some weird backlash against it (a suspicion compounded by the Golden Globes snubbing). Like it would be too perfect for Hollywood to give a movie about a gay political hero best picture given Prop 8 and Obama triumphalism. If so, that is some BULLSHIT. I have not had strong Best Picture preferences for a few years, but this year it will be a total travesty if the gimmicky Brad Pitt thing or Batman or Nazi Kate Winslet wins instead. Bah.

2. The Wrestler - This is a movie that keeps it real, folks, I mean--for reals real. But, it is important to note that it is not quite a "downer" movie in the way "Dancer in the Dark" was a downer movie. For one, it spends a lot of time creating this truly fascinating (and gross) backstage world of low rent professional wrestling, but not for cheap laughs. Rather it plays like one of those documentaries at once disturbed and intrigued by its subjects but firmly operating under the conceit that theirs is a deep world worth engaging. Second, Mickey Rourke's performance doesn't really allow it to become a downer, because his character is fundamentally good-natured and can take care of himself and never feels like a pawn of some sadistic omnipotent filmmaker, which is quite an achievement considering the scene with the staples. You don't pity him, per se, but sort of join him as he resigns himself to the fact that his luck has run out. So, still a downer, clearly, but as someone who doesn't have a lot of patience for the genre at large, I think this is different and better. He still shouldn't beat out Sean Penn, but I wouldn't be irate if it went down like that.

3. Slumdog Millionaire - As advertised, very satisfying and then some. It ends more neatly and fairytale-ish than it begins, which could be bothersome, but whatever. While the story and assemblage of actors playing the main roles at different ages are enchanting (except for the adult version of the girl, who was bland and too pretty), the Indian setting is the real entertainment, with nicely observed glimpses into slums as well as call centers. Clearly not Milk competition for Best Picture, but I hope it doesn't end up as a sort of Indian "Little Miss Sunshine" for 2008. This is much worthier.

Tristan Bust

Well THAT was something of a lowpoint in my operagoing career, and on my first attempt to see T n' I live, no less. Serious weak sauce alert.

I spent the first act in the penalty box (thanks Delaware!) which was packed for some reason. Watson sounded nicht gut on the List Hall sound system. Like, actual cringe, muttering "Damn" under my breath, nails on a larynx unpleasant at some points.

I got up to my balc box for Act II and some tourist d-bag sitting in my seat says "What, you're just coming for the second act?" Dick. The good news about Act II was that Watson sounded perfectly fine in person. The bad news was that it was way, way boring. I would have thought Tristan could basically work under any circumstances, but I would have been wrong. It does not work when there is zero chemistry going on among the principals. I mean, when Konig Marke's monologue is the most exciting thing in the show, that's just not cool.

Now, I don't want to totally blame the principals. Watson certainly deserves the gratitude reserved for people willing to cover Wagner. That is some thankless shiz right there. And c'mon...it was the last perf in a run where the conductor was the biggest story, not to mention a Saturday night and snowing. Also, she was up there with Seiffert, who despite his nice sounding voice clearly could not act his way out of a plastic bag. (Exercise: Pretend you have just been run through with a broadsword. Does that make you happy, sad, or the same?)

Also: I know I'm the last person in the universe to get an opinion about this production, but does anyone else feel like the Met picked it up at IKEA? It's all soothing Nordic colors, competing faux wood veneers, modernish lines, and a bit cheap looking. Lest this production get in a show without one flub, you'll be glad to know the lift for the obelisk thing got caught or something when Melot is busting in during Act II and there was this sort of awkward section where no one knew where to look because Marke hadn't arrived from under the stage yet.

I was thinking about maybe not saying this in public, but oh well. I bailed on Act III. I wanted to just forget the whole business and go home and make plane tickets for Voigt/Forbis in Chicago next month. I just didn't want my first time to be like that, and I think we can all agree this was just the tip, right?

Good.

One night only...unfortunately the wrong one

Going up to NY to catch the last T u' I of the season tomorrow, but when Dalayman sicks out do I get the luxury cover? Of course not. I get L-dubs. Not like she is bad. But safe to say it is a serious non-event. I dunno. Maybe her Isolde is awesome and no one knows it and I will eat my hat.

Maybe.

I know what'll cheer us up...moose chili!

A: *link*
J: haha
A: dude
A: the palin interview on fox right now is ABSURD
A: there is a huge bear head behind greta van susteren
J: haha
J: hah
J: ridiculous
J: is it live?
A: no
A: they are all over the place
A: she is going to cook moose after the commercial, I think
A: and make GVS eat it
J: wait
J: really?
A: i half heard a promo for it last night, and I swear to God i heard "moose stew"
A: and a teaser definitely had a kitchen in it
J: good lord
A: that is sad about shitty opera
J: dude.
J: like, the end
A: how do you bounce back from that
A: maybe they should do a "make your own opera" thing
J: like, build a bear workshop?
A: ha
A: exactly
A: like "make your own opera" Thursdays
A: and they just open up the state theatre
A: and you get to come and yell onstage and stuff
J: and have like costume bins lying around
J: and like some old boxes of scores
A: yeah
J: perhaps some paint, and some boards, nails, etc
A: "alaska has so much to offer the nation in terms of national security"
A: and
A: "alaska is the richest state in the nation...in terms of its natural resources"
J: haha
J: no one gives a fuck about your state Pei Lin
A: Why you no go away Pei Lin, no one like you no more
A: "moose chili"
A: seriously
J: I'd eat that

Ouch

Some brutal news for City Opera. I mean...damn. Even the Republican party has to be thinking "at least we didn't have as bad a year as NYCO" right now.

I for one was certainly enthusiastic about the gamble they took--as Chair Susan Baker (who ought to stay out of dark alleys filled with Parterre commenters today) reiterated in the Times piece, the NYCO formula, aka everyone's favorite programmatic whipping boy, has been "financially broken" for some time. Against that reality, its hard to see how they could drop down to just their bread-n-butter-sad-excuse-for-the-Met stuff and retain any pretense that they had a mission beyond picking off calves from the herd headed next door.

The alternative "BAM-icization" plan was clearly a gamble, but it was the honest gamble. Those BAM types have money to burn on more challenging fare, but City Opera is hardly on their radar at present. Cut down the performance commitments to something closer to a regular regional house and aggressively chase those people as the core of a new, more committed audience. And if you program it, the younger and more adventurous in the Met audience will come, too.

But I suppose all that is moot for the moment. Blarg. Such a mess.

Well, that kicked ass, didn't it? Here's one of those fun red/blue state maps that accounts for where all the people in the country actually, you know, live. That's a lot of blue, yo.

Pollini at Strathmore

Anne Midgette saves me a bit of trouble with her spot-on review of Maurizio Pollini's recital at Strathmore two nights ago:

Pollini thinks in phrases, not in notes...If music is made up of sentences, these were translating the content into a whole new language. And yet it never felt as if the pianist were being whimsical, imposing a point of view simply for the sake of being different.

Contrast this to Allan Kozinn's NYT review of the same show at Carnegie Hall the other week:

If you like this aspect of Mr. Pollini’s style — his forcefulness and muscularity, and his ability to create the sense that the piano is inadequate to the music’s demands and his own — his tendency to apply the same expressive effects to every work on the program was not a deal breaker...the sameness of his interpretive approach from work to work struck me as a flaw that even the great — and very real — Pollini aura could not overcome.

Kozinn has every right to find Pollini not his cup of tea, of course, but I fear he is trading in the fairly tired Pollini "debate". Pollini is a challenging artist, but not because he offers extreme perfection at the expense of warmth or sentimentality. Rather, it is because he challenges his audience to think "bigger" about the works he plays, for lack of a better word.

Its a hard thing to describe, as AM duly acknowledges, but when he is really successful, the feeling is akin to the revelations one is used to feeling more often in literature or architecture: when you really understand a work as the sum of its parts, and the genius in their relations. Achieving this--making that architecture audible to an audience--requires an absurd level of consistency and control. The second things fall out of proportion, the audience goes back to understanding a piece as simply melody plus harmony, color plus tempo, etc. Anyone not at the pinnacle of virtuoso technique wouldn't be able to even consider such ambitions for the repertoire he plays. Again, AM hits it when she says that his performance was hardly note perfect, but conveyed the "concept" of perfection.

Now, sometimes his interpretations require a lot of work on the part of the audience, because to express the design that he wants to, he needs to contradict the CD playing in our head. Sometimes its successful, sometimes its not. It's a tricky business. But we shouldn't assume for a moment that what we're hearing is anything as mundane as an "effect" that didn't come off right or didn't get enough attention. Pollini is a man with a project, and his interest lies in a very different space than isolated effects.

I could rundown the different pieces in detail, but I really ought to go back to work, so I'll just say: the Appasionata was probably the pinnacle in all around mind blowingness; the Tempest bores me these days but it was good; the C Major Fantasy reading was probably the most 'challenging' by the meaning above, but perhaps the one that will stay with me longest; Pollini's Chopin, which closed the concert and accounted for all the encores is a really unique and special thing, and I'm not going to ruin it by going on about it anymore.

Also notable from the department of ironic bad concert etiquette: some classical music dork's cell phone went off during the Beethoven, and I'm pretty sure the ring tone was from some other Beethoven piano piece. Is that more or less embarrasing than "Who Let the Dogs Out"? Not sure...

Update: Great rundown from Charles Downey at Ionarts here.

Norn 3: Cut the damn string already...

Cute video from the New Yorker here. I was initially skeptical of the Palin-Brunnhilde angle (has she learned anything, really?) but I do like Pal-hilde as downfall of the Republican party, her zealotry igniting the flames of wingnuttery to engulf the once god-like party, now undone by the hypocrisies etched on its speer.

McCain as Siegfried is pretty good, but he of course can't blame a magic potion for turning out to be kind of a dishonorable asshole (I suppose they still have a couple days to float that, tho). Also, god willing, the press will not be charitably inclined towards any 'redemption in defeat' BS after he eats it on Tuesday...

New Violetta...New Atomic

Someone please talk me out of faking sick so I can take in one of the non-sold out Harteros Violettas. Only another Traviata one hears oneself saying, but then there is the terribly overwhelming b-cast the other night, and this awfully tempting review from JSU:

To my mind it's a miracle that one who can be the rare sort of person Harteros' Violetta is onstage, opening long-unheard sonic-expressive vistas in the part, can also sing well and powerfully enough to be a star in this house.

Dang it.

In other news, sounds like Dr. Atomic's fundamental crappiness is not succumbing to the Met's shiny new production, despite our fondest hopes.

Watching the neat trailer video, I am re-intrigued the way I was before I actually saw the thing, and entertain ideas of seeing the new production and enjoying it and finding all the disappointment in between has just been a bad dream. But then I try to decide whether I was more bored in 2008 by Dr. Atomic or John McCain's acceptance speech, and I find myself choosing Dr. Atomic. And damn...that is just a tough, tough burn right there.

PS...A: For those of you who have not seen it yet but do have tickets, be warned: close to the end, when you will be praying for the end to come, there will be a countdown bit to the atomic bomb detonation. This countdown is not, I repeat NOT, in real time. It will say 5 minutes, but you still have 20, easy, to endure. Do not be fooled. Thanks to commenter E at Maury's place for reminding us of this. We had clearly repressed it.

What to do with the rest of the year?

A: were you there tonight?
J: duh
A: damn
A: it sounded awesome on the radio
A: KM brought the A-game
J: for serious
J: she was fucking nuts
A: bonus
A: they better not do that shit again for a while if this is it for her
J: I know
A: not many people are going have patience for an adequate salome with this in recent memory
J: I wish I could get a recording of tonight
J: she did some crazy physical things
A: ?
A: huh
A: her debut at the Met was as Donna Elvira
J: I know
A: natch
J: weird
J: she didn't do anything new tonight I guess, it was all just a little more over the top
A: i'm need to come back for those Onegins
J: totes
A: what are you going to do with yourself now?
J: I don't know!
J: worry about the election I guess
A: at least there is still that

The Last Salomai

Almost at a close. The final "Kopf Des Jokanaan" was marvelous--apparently she's a bass when she wants to be.

Surprises

A: catherine and her brother went to see it last night
J: it was way way good last night
A: him: "It was pretty good...I didn't know we were going to see box"
J: hah

Things I never got around to posting this summer

July 2

Got to see the last DVo Ariadne at Covent Garden last night.

You know what? I think I'm officially done writing about how new Voigt holds up against old Voigt. Trying to gauge whether a voice is living up to expectations generated by CD recordings of nearly a decade ago is no way to watch or assess a show. Is there a different sound today? Clearly. But time passes and voices change, and unless it's an outright decline issue, there's no use agonizing over the differences.

Anyhow. I enjoyed her a great deal last night. The sound was powerful and big and rich, and far more present than it felt in the Frosch at Lyric. The middle was a bit choppier relative to the soaring top, but one hardly gave a damn by the finale.

As for the less thanked Frosch transplant, Robert Dean Smith: I don't know what was wrong with him in Chicago last year, but you know, between this and his Tristan showing, I may just start going to stuff only because Robert Dean Smith is in it. Is it weird to go to Strauss for the tenor? Be honest.

Zerbinetta was one Gillian Keith, a name I haven't heard before--she served up an admirable enough "Grossmachtige...", but it lacked a certain finesse and didn't inspire that giddy "HOLY SHIT" feeling one hopes for. Life lesson: showpieces only work when they look completely effortless, other wise you kind of just want to tell them there's no need for all the fuss.

I was very partial to Kristine Jepson's Komponist (you may recognize her as a Stefano for a Met R&J). I've been more intrigued by the role since hearing the Troyanos tape on Sirius a few times this spring, and it was fun to hear it live with that in mind, though my opera buddy thought her big notes left a bitter aftertaste.

PS, Covent Garden cheap seats SUCK. They are just armless chairs squeezed as close as possible together and the air conditioning in the upper reaches is pathetic. Plus it is London so everyone has a jacket on because British July is like New York October. Clearly it wasn't enough for the Victorian lower classes to get cholera and spend their childhoods making articifial flowers, they also deserved to be super uncomfortable at the opera. If one can stomach the nausea inducing exchange rate, it is seriously worth it to spring for a lower balcony.