Everyone who has ever lived in NYC has encountered a certain type of homeless drunk. This vagabond isn’t pissing his way through subway cars, but is well-put together and charming (or as well put together as one can be for a homeless guy). People spend a few minutes chatting with him, and most end up dropping him a couple bucks. “Get some coffee,” they say, even though they know he’s headed to the nearest deli for another cheap ’40 of malt liquor. And at least these sorts of guys are charming drunks and not tedious drunks. Read more »
I remember when the Willy Decker production of La Traviata was first announced at the Met. There was much pearl-clutching that it would limit casting to sopranos who could fit into the “little red dress” and also how the production was vulgar, cheap, scandalous, and Verdi was turning over in his grave. Read more »
One of the major complaints about the five year casting system (as well as the shared productions by different companies) is that operatic events are rarely surprises anymore.
Every year I say I’m not going to another La Bohème because I’ve seen this too many times.
If you are of the belief that Show Boat can stand on its own as a classic score and thus doesn’t need the trappings of musical production, you’ll love the New York Philharmonic’s “semi-staged” production.
At the first intermission at last night’s Met revival of Aida, I turned to my companion and said, “So… what about the Aida? I thought she was supposed to be good.”
The Metropolitan Opera desperately needed a new production of Le nozze di Figaro.
I always think of Don Giovanni as half of the greatest opera ever written. Or, actually, about 2/3 of the greatest opera ever written.