Cher Public

  • Quanto Painy Fakor: That’s so sweet of you Camille. I really would like to meet you someday. I hope someone posts the video of the... 3:52 AM
  • overstimmelated: P.S. In any case, it would be interesting to know why Maestro Luisi withdrew from the original production. Something... 3:16 AM
  • antikitschychick: Oy vey the break in that extremely long paragraph about SY was a fail; perhaps La Cieca can kindly assist and edit it... 3:09 AM
  • overstimmelated: But what if an irreconcilable disagreement arose in rehearsals over the placement of the prompter’s box (as in last... 3:02 AM
  • antikitschychick: (short) addendum: I forgot to mention that the second disappointment was that the chorus during the Misere sounded... 2:26 AM
  • antikitschychick: The second performance was the opening night of Il Trovatore featuring the same cast as today’s HD… This was... 2:13 AM
  • La Cieca: I get the feeling sometimes that certain stars when they find themselves in poorish vehicles get the idea that if they just push... 1:35 AM
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What’s wrong with James Levine?

La Cieca was just sent an announcement about “James Levine: 40 Years at The Metropolitan Opera,   an extraordinary insider’s view of the legendary conductor’s Met career, illustrated with vivid historic photographs…. Marking the 40th anniversary of Met Music Director James Levine’s company debut on June 5, 1971, the book celebrates his unparalleled artistic achievements through commentary by the maestro himself, as well as anecdotes and tributes from many of the great artists who have performed with him.”

So it’s safe to assume that what we’re talking about here is a tongue bath suitable for coffee table display—but that’s not what’s on La Cieca’s mind here. 

The press release also mentions that the book will touch on “the singular low point of his career in 1980,” which strikes La Cieca as curious. That year marked the launch of the Met’s Young Artists Program, which some certainly regard as the beginning of the end of the art of singing in the United States, but that’s hardly what Levine would think, or at least say in public.

One of La Cieca’s correspondents asked, “1980? Wasn’t that the year he was arrested?” But whether he was arrested or not, that’s an unlikely subject to broach even in “an extraordinary insider’s view,” so let’s put that aside.

No, La Cieca is pretty sure that what this is about is the 1980 orchestra labor dispute that ended up costing the Met three months of performances that fall. And now, moving beyond reasonable supposition and branching out into sheer guesswork, she’s going to say that the reason this subject is suddenly coming to the fore 30 years after the fact is that the Met is afraid that history is about to repeat itself.

It’s no secret that the company is negotiating with AGMA and Local 802 for new contracts beginning in the fall of 2011, and La Cieca has heard rumors that a strike of 1980 magnitude is a distinct possiblity. So distinct is the possibilty, La Cieca hears, that members of the Met’s musical staff are already making contingency plans for what is to be done if or when the orchestra goes out on strike and the fall season is canceled.

Again, that’s all rumor. but let’s say there was significant concern at the Met that a labor action might close the house. How could that concern be addressed without directly acknowledging the terrifying possibility of a strike?

One way, perhaps, would be to remind everyone forcefully of just what the last strike cost in terms of artistic quality, financial stability and—really to drive the nail in as firmly as possible—just how much the last strike broke Baby Jimmy’s heart.

Now, you might ask, doesn’t this seem a particularly devious way of accomplishing what would seem to be a pretty straightforward task, i.e., addressing the still-nebulous concern about a possible strike? Why all the subterfuge and indirection? Why not just approach the issue head-on?

Because “head-on” is anathema to James Levine, particularly if it in any way involves bad news. He notoriously is incapable of doing or saying anything that might make him disliked. One quick example will suffice, and then La Cieca will throw the discussion open to the parterriani.

Looking back a little over five years, we find an interview with Levine in New York magazine, a terrifically flattering account that gives the maestro a forum for advoating his side of the story about then-recent concerns about his health and workload. (The author this exercise in reverence is Matt Dobkin, who surely by coincidence soon after was hired on by the Met as their Director of Editorial and Marketing Promotion.)

Perhaps unwittingly, Dobkin presents a sterling example of Levine’s passive-aggressive managerial style:

Almost fifteen years ago, [Deborah] Voigt, then only recently engaged by the Met, was in rehearsals for Strauss’s Elektra when she got a worrisome call from her manager. “ ‘Maestro Levine is concerned about the way your middle voice is developing,’ he said. ‘He sees you as a Wagnerian, Straussian soprano, and you’re going to need a bulkier, meatier, better way of using your middle voice.’ This was in the middle of final rehearsals, and I, of course, had a good cry. And then I went to my voice teacher and we worked over a couple of days, and I went to the next musical rehearsal.

“About two hours after that rehearsal, I’m at home and the phone rings. ‘Hey, baby, it’s Jimmy.’ ‘Maestro . . . ?’ He said, ‘I’m just calling to tell you that it was much better, and you’re right on—that was exactly what I was talking about.’ And I thought, you know, Thank you for saying something and for knowing that I was not going to have a meltdown. I don’t think people realize how generous Jimmy’s spirit really is.”

Levine was in rehearsal with Voigt, and if not directly coaching her, certainly had the opportunity to call her in for a private session. But instead of directly approaching her with his concerns about her vocal technique, he had someone else deliver the uncomfortable news. The likely chain of communication: Levine tells an assistant, the assistant contacts the manager, the manager tells Voigt, who, unable to get clarification on what these scary words mean, dissolves into tears. Then, after Voigt does her best to approximate what she guesses the sound Levine wants might be, he phones to accept her gratitude.

So, to answer the question, Levine’s most important problem is not his health. His real “back issue” is that he’s got no spine.


  • Hans Lick says:

    1. I think Levine should retire because I’d prefer to hear other conductors do a great many of the things he insists on doing. The spring he had the accident in Boston and had to pull out of everything saw some very refreshing music-making at the Met. That said, yes, he can do a great job when he’s in spirits: The recent Das Lied von der Erde at Carnegie was fabulous.

    2. There have been rumors about Jimmy and young (usually black) boys for at least thirty years now. There have never been any public charges. AT ALL. I’m inclined to disbelieve rumor without substance.

    3. He did turn a mediocre orchestra into a first-class one; it cost a bunch of money, but the work was mostly his. He ignored the casting department, and in the absence of a general manager who gave a damn about voices all sorts of horrors have befallen us, in the seventies, the eighties and now. I mostly blame Joan Ingpen, that utter monstrosity. The sacrosanctity of the five-year-old contract. But Jimmy was frying other fish.

    4. No one here ever seems to recall WHY Scotto was tossed out on her ear. She was singing atrociously, and she was singing parts no one in his right mind (i.e. only Jimmy) would give her, and she had no judgment whatsoever about what she could and could not sing. Remember the year the Met’s subscription department, in its calls to coax, had instructions to say, “And Renata Scotto is only singing one role this year,” as an inducement to return? I remember that. It was pretty startling, glad though I was. The Met Board (I learned 20 years later) had called Jimmy on the carpet and told him she had to go. Okay, he’s not very good at telling friends when they’re in dutch. He delegates. Scotto was pushing it, and Battle certainly was pushing it. I wish SOMEONE would do it to Voigt and Gheorghiu now, and the reason someone has to shove Voigt is because she’s apparently too lost in her ego she doesn’t hear what she sounds like any more. A nice lady, I know nothing against her, but she can’t sing.

    5. Bing, in his memoirs, wondered how the Met would survive without the scouts he had on retainer in Europe, keeping track of rising young voices. He was right, you know. (He wasn’t ALWAYS right.)

  • don warner saklad says:

    …preventative health measures should be included in conductors’ contracts!