La Cieca is delighted to announce a week-long series of investigative reports deciding once and for all the question “Who is the greatest opera diva of our generation?” Read more »
Like Liza Minnelli at the Palace or Nomi Malone in Goddess, Renée Fleming‘s Thaïs is better understood as diva event than Gesamtkunstwerk. It’s an opportunity to watch a star lady do her voodoo in a work that exists largely to showcase her glamour and appeal. Read more »
La Cieca is just guessing here (with some prompting from Zachary Woolfe) but she thinks she has divined the coup de théâtre climaxing the Met’s new production of Tosca.
They shoot Mario, etc. etc., and then Karita Mattila runs crazily off the stage as the guards come rushing on. They search all about but cannot find her: it’s as if Tosca has disappeared from the face of the earth.
Seachlights sweep the stage and then the auditorium.
“Ah! Tosca, pagherai ben cara la sua vita!” cries Spoletta, and suddenly the spotlight focuses on a Dress Circle box, house right. The Finnish diva sings the famous final line and the even more famous high B-flat, and hurls herself into space…
… only to land squarely on the “incognito” Franco Zeffirelli, who has chosen just this moment to exit in disgust up the orchestra aisle. Their unison “oof” is drowned out by the roars of the applauding crowd.
It’s so meta La Cieca can hardly see straight.
Our Own JJ (not pictured) nominates the can’t-miss operatic and vocal events of the autumn of 2009. [NYP]
Sharp-eyed reader Sadie Salome writes: It seems I was the only one spent much of last night’s letter scene peering through her binoculars at Karita Mattila‘s fine acting, because I see no report on your site of last night’s mishap (and if it isn’t on your site, then it obviously hasn’t been reported anywhere!) As you can see in the photograph below, the nightgown which Tatiana wears for her letter scene has a couple buttons in the middle that hold the front together, though it’s still split a little bit even when fastened.Â
Cher Public