Opera Queens
A composer I know, a neighbor,
once dropped the electrifying news
that the great Anna Moffo has sung his songs,
and telephones him every New Year's.
Whenever I see him on the street,
scurrying along with music scores
clutched to his chest,
I stop him to ask
if Miss Moffo, as I,
in my utter adoration, like to call her,
has phoned him yet
to wish him a Happy New Year.
But he invariably
dismisses my ultimate goddess
with a flick of the hand,
and switches the subject
to Zinka Milanov --
he accompanied Milanov on the piano
during the years of her retirement
as she coached divas with their vocal problems.
"They all came to her,"
he says, in utter worship,
"and Madame Milanov
told everyone the truth.
When Anna," --
my Miss Moffo is merely "Anna" to him,
in distinction to Milanov,
who is always Madame Milanov --
"When Anna came to her
for coaching,
Madame Milanov asked," --
here the composer's voice purrs bitchily --
"'How old are you, my dear.'
'Fifty-four,' Anna answered.
'My dear," the composer's eyes
search poor Miss Moffo's neck
for wrinkles, her face for evidence
of a face lift,
"we must be truthful
with each other,
or I cannot help you.
Sixty-four?'"
He cackles in triumph,
as Milanov must have cackled
every time she repeated the story,
and goes on to say
that the last time Anna called him
she said she was working on Norma.
"Norma! "
He howls with laughter
at the thought.
My tattered queen....
His latest story
is of Renata Scotto
arriving to ask Madame Milanov for help
in singing the dramatic role, La Gioconda.
"You want to sing La Gioconda?"
purred Madame Milanov.
"Yes," said the reigning diva of the Met,
"it suits my voice."
"My dear," said Madame Milanov,
"Cats are cats
and dogs are dogs,
and you
will
never
sing
Gioconda!"
And with a dismissive wave of the hand,
he sails down the street
gasping
with Milanovian mirth.
-- from A Frieze for a Temple of Love by Edward Field (www.edwardfield.com). His latest, just released, is After the Fall, Poems Old and New (U. of Pittsburgh Press).
once dropped the electrifying news
that the great Anna Moffo has sung his songs,
and telephones him every New Year's.
Whenever I see him on the street,
scurrying along with music scores
clutched to his chest,
I stop him to ask
if Miss Moffo, as I,
in my utter adoration, like to call her,
has phoned him yet
to wish him a Happy New Year.
But he invariably
dismisses my ultimate goddess
with a flick of the hand,
and switches the subject
to Zinka Milanov --
he accompanied Milanov on the piano
during the years of her retirement
as she coached divas with their vocal problems.
"They all came to her,"
he says, in utter worship,
"and Madame Milanov
told everyone the truth.
When Anna," --
my Miss Moffo is merely "Anna" to him,
in distinction to Milanov,
who is always Madame Milanov --
"When Anna came to her
for coaching,
Madame Milanov asked," --
here the composer's voice purrs bitchily --
"'How old are you, my dear.'
'Fifty-four,' Anna answered.
'My dear," the composer's eyes
search poor Miss Moffo's neck
for wrinkles, her face for evidence
of a face lift,
"we must be truthful
with each other,
or I cannot help you.
Sixty-four?'"
He cackles in triumph,
as Milanov must have cackled
every time she repeated the story,
and goes on to say
that the last time Anna called him
she said she was working on Norma.
"Norma! "
He howls with laughter
at the thought.
My tattered queen....
His latest story
is of Renata Scotto
arriving to ask Madame Milanov for help
in singing the dramatic role, La Gioconda.
"You want to sing La Gioconda?"
purred Madame Milanov.
"Yes," said the reigning diva of the Met,
"it suits my voice."
"My dear," said Madame Milanov,
"Cats are cats
and dogs are dogs,
and you
will
never
sing
Gioconda!"
And with a dismissive wave of the hand,
he sails down the street
gasping
with Milanovian mirth.
-- from A Frieze for a Temple of Love by Edward Field (www.edwardfield.com). His latest, just released, is After the Fall, Poems Old and New (U. of Pittsburgh Press).
POSTED at
10:27 AM
7 Comments:
It's like Wayne Koestenbaum in free verse.
Yeah, I thought it was Wayne too. He's also a Moffo queen.
Alas I never heard her, but of course I came to opera and found Zinka queens galore. And they all had great stories. (There is one photo of her in the City Museum in Zagreb -- in contrast, there are photos, a dozen costumes and many fanciful recent paintings of Milka Trnina, who also appears in a mural on the ceiling of the National Theater.)
Christa Ludwig sang Isolde before Milanov -- I wonder if the poet's friend was at the piano? And afterwards, Madame said, "A wonderful performance, my dear. But NEVER sing it on stage." (And she didn't.)
- Hans Lick
still recuperating from The Wreckers
What I meant above was that I never heard Zinka. I heard Moffo's unfortunate Lucia and trademarked Traviata.
(Proofread yourself, damn it, Hansel.)
- Hans Lick
I suppose Milanov in the flesh must have been something but I know her entirely from commercial recordings where she careens wildly from sublime to unlistenable.
That's why I always found her interview attitude "¿Quién es más diva? ¡Yo soy la más diva!" somewhat tiresome.
More Milanov legend
When a certain American Diva made her debut in 1961, Milanov was quoted as saying "A beautiful voice but she is singing the wrong role" When asked what roles this singer should be singing she responded "Bess, only Bess."
When told by a singer that the singer could sing both Isolde and Norma easily. Milanov is said to have responded yes you can sing both easily but you cannot sing both well.
Heard a good Resnik story yesterday . When told by a gay fan that her dress in the last act of Carmen did not suit her, she said "The men in the audience liked it!"
I tried reading Koestenbaum's The Queen's Throat: Homosexuality, and the Mystery of Desire, but found it tiresome. I wonder if I would appreciate it any more 14 years later?
Talking about Moffo, it's listed on her Website that she sang La Traviata 900 times and Lucia 500 time! Is this possible or an exaggeration?
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