Bare Opera, the feisty little company that gave Debussy’s exquisite L’Enfant Prodigue in Chelsea last spring, is now operating in chic, rundown Bushwick where so many original enterprises sprout. There, at the Bat Haus on Starr Street (near the Jefferson L train stop), through the 22nd, they are giving Enrique Granados’ Goyescas in what may be its first New York revival since the 1916 debut. Read more »
In New York, tradition insists, there are no limits to where a preposterous idea, talent and relentless determination will take you, in defiance of all the odds. parterre box is a case in point. The Opera Company of Brooklyn is another. Read more »
Polish singers are chameleons. They have to be. There aren’t enough Polish operas to make a major career, even in Poland, a sizable nation, and if they go abroad, Krol Rogers and Halkas and Straszny Dvors are few and far between. And when did anyone last revive Penderecki’s Devils? Read more »
New York is different now, and John Zorn has this hangout, The Stone, on Avenue C (you heard me) at Second Street, a performance space the size of a largeish dorm room.
“Operatic” generally refers to sung drama, but there is another meaning of that term: grandiose, outsize, hysterical.
Besides the heavens and a sweater in The Devil Wears Prada, it is the hue of Hibla Gerzmava’s soprano, in contrast to the red or rose or red-orange voices of most sopranos.
LoftOpera is just one, though perhaps the liveliest, of many homegrown opera troupes in Brooklyn.
Homer, inspired by many a muse, sang not of sequels to his Iliad.
Richard Strauss’s many one-act operas make excellent concert programs, both for their length (usually under two hours) and the primary place each gives the orchestration, a specialty where Strauss’s brilliance seldom deserted him.
Harry Lawrence Freeman’s Voodoo, begun sometime before 1914, was completed and first heard on radio in May, 1928, then staged on Broadway later that year—seven years before Porgy and Bess, please note.