Headshot of La Cieca

Cher Public

  • Satisfied: A quite lovely “una furtive” from the wonderful Mr. Camarena. Very excited to see him... 7:18 PM
  • Poison Ivy: A nice article about Javier Camarena: http://www.nytimes .com/2014/04/21/ar ts/music/javier... 6:54 PM
  • antikitschychick: congrats to Brownlee for putting out a Rossini album :-D he is as the title says, a... 6:46 PM
  • phoenix: httpv://www.youtub e.com/watch?v=aq0K O8uj2dg 6:42 PM
  • papopera: I saw it too. A riot. All shot in a studio with painted back drops. Even the text imitates pseudo... 6:28 PM
  • papopera: Disgusting that fat boy, must be from Plattsburg. 6:20 PM
  • Poison Ivy: My favorite is John Derek’s Joshua. He just will not play along with everyone else’s... 6:11 PM
  • damekenneth: Yes, but Vickers did sing some roles one would not have expected: Nero in “L’... 6:11 PM
  • Grane: Moses, Moses…. 5:58 PM
  • DeepSouthSenior: Bewitching photo. Nice asp. 5:55 PM

The Ironic Lady

Another grim narrative of the Gelb years, and one I think is generally hogwash, is that the Met has (at least in theatrical terms) lost its way entirely.  Those with a little less flair for offstage drama will at least acknowledge the success of an easily agreed upon core of imported productions that, in contrast to that alchemy or perhaps origami whereby successful theater directors are meant to be folded into successful opera directors, have actually marked a period of great creative innovation in the house.   Read more »

And no bones!

Apparently, opera fans got the bright side of the bargain: say “Macbeth” in the theater and you court cataclysm; utter the name in the opera house and, as often as not, you merely predict disappointment.  Read more »

Scenes from an occupation

There were rumors all day in the usual places, on the search string: Philip Glass, Lincoln Center, OWS.  The opera, though hypnotic, passed quickly, and Glass took a curtain call, got a hero’s welcome. Well, we thought, he can’t be both places at once. Read more »

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The sea was angry that day, my friends

It’s a sad story, really. Debussy and Maeterlinck had what the kids would call Major Drama over who was to sing Melisande (Mary Garden vs. the person you’ve never heard of) and so Maeterlinck didn’t see Pelleas until years after Debussy had died, so he never got to be like “word!” or, I suppose, “mot!” 

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Royal Hunt

Les Troyens is one of those things, or often two of those things, that should be a big event or it practically needn’t happen at all.* The keynote is grandiosity in the best way, from the subject to the musical demands (let’s include the implicit challenge of one singer performing both Cassandre and Didon—not because it happens often, but because it’s hard not to think about it simply on account of its ever having happened.)

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House of Atreus: Fall Collection

Elektra occupies a special place in the Met’s rep, in a cheap way. It’s no easier to cast than any number of things that inspire well-rehearsed refrains of “put it away for fifty years,”* and really over the last quarter century many a somber compromise has been made in casting. What sets it apart is that folks seem willing enough to lie back and think of Mycenae while Gabriele Schnaut humps the leg of Strauss’ towering score, content to soak in the piece under any conditions. 

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