That’s the sorrowful précis. It’s very messy.
You know, La Cieca and her alter ego JJ are just like the pair in that lovely song by Mr. Sondheim, “The Story of Lucy and Jessie.”
Well, not just like, perhaps. La Cieca can hardly be accused of having “maturity and plenty of security” and dear JJ does not exactly boast “the purity along with the unsurety that comes with being only twenty-one.” But, for the sake of the argument, let’s just say they see things in very different ways.
Take, for example, this photograph of the current revival of Tosca at the Royal Opera House:
Now, La Cieca looks at this image and thinks, “Such drama! Such excitement! Surely this is demented opera at its (visual) best!”
Whereas JJ casts his critical eye and reflects, “So we have one singer who doesn’t rehearse (Angela Gheorghiu) and another singer who rehearses, but then does something completely different when he gets onstage (Bryn Terfel). And those two unpredictable artists are wrestling atop a rickety table only inches away from real lit candles. This cannot end well.”
“And this is assuming,” JJ adds, “the signora’s bazooms do not pop out of her bodice. How am I supposed to listen to music when I have all this stuff to worry about?”
well, JJ, I am also worrying that he might try to double cross her, and she might try to murder him, and it’s also possible that the Mets will lose again today! on the other hand, Cieca cara, our side has already won the battle of Marengo, so I have a very optimistic feeling about invading Russia in about twelve years…
Good mother of God, are Gheorghiu’s bazooms for real?
Is it just me, or does she resemble Trebs in this pic, complete with post-baby bazooms?
Cieca, Cara, I don’t mean to be dismissive of your concerns but, honestly, been there done that.
One of Risë Stevens’ breasts popped out one night early in the run of the great Carmen production in which she became the Carmen of her generation. It stayed out during the act 4 confrontation with Don Jose as she didn’t have the opportunity to stick it back in given all the business she had to do. Everybody lived.
Maria Callas got too close to the candles in HER famous Covent Garden Tosca Zeffirelli production and Tito Gobbi had to put out the smoldering locks. Again we all survived (which is not to say that I understand the use of open flames on stage during a very physical production–candelabra bulbs that simulate live flame are readily available and some are extremely convincing).
What I would hope for is that any incendiary activity was contained in the performances of the principals!
I’m hardly unable to reply coherently on the topic at hand, I’m just so overcome with delight that La Cieca based her post on quotations from an underappreciated song from my favorite musical ever, one which occupies a great deal of my life. Bless you, mein Liebchen.
And with a Schlitz in your mitts down in Fitzroy’s Bar, you long for the Ritz, oh, it’s so … schitzo…
Caption: “My name is Gheorghiu….NOT Google-oo! After I have finished with Scarpia , wait till I get backstage and have a piece of the wardrobe mistress. I told her before the performance she should have been in the meat packing business, instead. “
Terfel now will have another excuse to add to his arsenal of ‘cancel excuses’….that he is suffering from a recently brought-on debilitating ‘eye squinting’ condition.
Hans Lick, I was going to add one more paragraph to my post, but didn’t.
And then your post shows up after mine, and it’s word-for-word exactly what I was going to say. Great minds, huh?
OF – precisemente.
I too love Lucy & Jessie – but I was raised a nouveau from New Rochelle.