• Toll Brothers–Metropolitan Opera International Radio Network
• Sirius
• Vocal score
• Libretto

We meet, as always, at La Cieca’s Council Chamber.

Emotional Journey

Yes, there are (many) nights when she phones it in, but when Angela Gheorghiu decides to take the audience on an Emotional Journey, a queen could ask for no better tour guide.

Jay Caspian Kang: “From 6:42 on in this video, she really does morph into another being, someone who doesn’t quite follow the same laws of physics as the rest of us. Maybe a later version of these rankings could examine what exactly happens when the diva starts to get all incandescent and then starts fucking shit up? It’s like she just went up a level in Dungeons and Dragons.”

Stimm

At any given time during a golden era there are perhaps four or five truly great voices; in our own less generously endowed epoch, Dolora Zajick reigns supreme as exemplar of Stimm.

Kunst

A generation’s definitive Kundry is by definition also its supreme practitioner of Kunst:  Waltraud Meier. (Note that in the course of this study we have observed the Kunstdiva in two somewhat different stages of her metamorphosis: standing immobile next to a grand piano, and crawling in a frenzy across a mirrored stage floor. The only immutable aspect of the Kunstdiva is her caftan.)

Iconic Moment

JCK: “This should have been narrated by Scott Hamilton. It’s like watching Surya Bonaly do fifteen backflips in a row in Olympic competition, not giving a shit that the judges aren’t allowed to score them as legitimate jumps. On the last backflip, she catches a bit of an edge but holds…HOLDS! On! Also, 1:03 would’ve broken the scale for the pop divas hand gestures scale. Even Mariah would have run out of notes to point out!”

La Cieca replies, “Fan or no fan, you have to admit that Cecilia Bartoli has trademarked The Cenerentola Show. (La Cieca adores how the bootleg camera does its own merry jig in time to the diva’s “Sparkle, Neeley, sparkle!” body English.)

Cult Status

It’s still a bit early in Joyce DiDonato‘s career to grant her full Cult Status, though this performance may well mark the turning point. She’s singing no differently (i.e., with uniform excellence) than she did before breaking her leg, but now she’s That Girl with Spunk.

Mr. Kang, who has delighted us so often at Free Darko, also may be heard tweeting at maxpower51.

Starting this afternoon we will determine the answer to this most consuming of all conundrums the only way art can ever properly be judged: scientifically. Specifically we will apply the Kang Method (patent pending) to two divisions of divas from the years 1980-2010.

Starting with a list of over 100 nominees submitted by you, the cher public, La Cieca winnowed the roster down to 25 semi-finalists each in “Classic” and “Contemporary” diva divisions.  Then you, the cher public, voted (early, and in some cases, often) for your favorites, tallying over 15,000  total ballots cast.

“Classic” divas (those who are no longer actively performing opera) include Hildegard Behrens, Montserrat Caballé, Régine Crespin, Mirella Freni, Marilyn Horne, Christa Ludwig, Jessye Norman, Leontyne Price, Leonie Rysanek, Renata Scotto, Joan Sutherland and Tatiana Troyanos. (Because of ties, there are 12 instead of the announced 10 divas in this category.)

“Contemporary” divas (i.e., those still on the boards) who topped the list of nominations are Cecilia Bartoli, Natalie Dessay, Joyce DiDonato, Renée Fleming, Angela Gheorghiu, Edita Gruberova, Karita Mattila, Waltraud Meier, Anna Netrebko and Dolora Zajick.

And now, La Cieca can hear you wondering, just what sort of criteria are to be applied to these divas to define “greatness.”  La Cieca is so happy you asked so intelligent a question. Your doyenne considered applying “four basic qualities that comprise stardom in opera” as defined by Ethan Mordden in his definitive “inside look” Demented, i.e. Voice, Musicianship, Temperament and Commitment (though E.M. himself suggests the addition of yet a fifth quality, Audacity, as so memorably exemplified in the story of Grace Moore‘s step-ins.)

She (La Cieca, not Grace Moore) conferred as well with the expert Mordden invented for the occasion, Lotte Heinotz, the “curiously unpopular singer of minor roles active in Vienna in the early 1900s” who authored the “classic pamphlet Der Weltsopranführer.” Frau Heinotz, you will recall, insisted that “All the world of the diva may be divided into five parts: voice, profile, costume, entrance, and death scene. But if you have the first part, the rest will take care of itself.”

In the end, La Cieca based her criteria on those  devised by Jay Caspian Kang (not coincidentally, inventor of the Kang Method) for his definitive study of pop divadom in The Awl.  Certain qualities were eliminated from the discussion of opera divas as being lost arts: for example, in opera no one does “stank” these days, more’s the pity. Anyway, after great deliberation, La Cieca settled upon 10 “Diva Criteria” to be applied on a weighted basis to determine (definitively, mind you!) the ultimate in diva distinction.

Emotional Journey (200 points possible)

• Does the singer create the “grand opera buzz?” Briefly, do you leave the theater a different person? And if not, why the hell not?

Stimm (150 points possible)
Kunst (150 points possible)

• Voice vs. art. “The Stimmdiva’s idea of preparing Gounod’s Marguerite involves learning her music and ordering her outfits. The Kunstdiva reads Goethe.”

Iconic Moment (100 points possible)

• A phrase, a gesture or a situation so closely associated with the diva as to become her trademark. The Iconic Moment could be Maria Callas snarling at the process server or Meg Ryan‘s “I’ll have what she’s having” scene.

Cult Status (100 points possible)

• Artistic, financial and popular success is nothing without insanely obsessive fans to share it with.

Grandezza (100 points possible)

• The grace, confidence and repose only a great lady can wield, toots.

Scandale (100 points possible)

• Cancellations, feuds, insane demands and other sundry drama. (Note: wig anecdotes are scored both here and in the following category.)

Hair and Headgear (50 points possible)

• A diva without a turban is like… wait, what were we talking about again?

Weight Fluctuations (50 points possible)

• “With my avoirdupois and my tra la la la la I would be the chief sensation of the age.”

Drag Imitability (50 points possible)

• The diva’s persona should be so boldly defined, on the very cusp of mannerism, that an imaginative impersonator need apply only a thin veneer of exaggeration. Or, to put it another way, if she can’t be “done,” then she’s not a diva.

Keep watching parterre.com beginning this afternoon for the first installment of “Quantification of the Diva!”

Here’s Ms. Phillips singing Fidelio.

Dear Metropolitan Opera:

I have been a loyal subscriber to the Met since I moved to the New York area, but I am sad to announce that I will not be buying a subscription to next year’s season.

Looking back at my season this year, I have found that most of the performances for which I’ve bought tickets a year early have had major cancellations, either weeks before or the day of. Here’s what has happened to me this year in my subscription follies:

• Aida on October 21st: Dolora Zajick canceled
• Turandot on October 28th: Maria  Guleghina canceled
• Hoffmann on December 23rd: Rolando Villazon, Rene Pape and Kathleen Kim canceled
• Hamlet on March 24th: Natalie Dessay canceled
• Traviata on April 7th: Leonard Slatkin canceled
• Tosca on April 14th: James Levine and Karita Mattila canceled
• Lulu on May 12th:  Levine canceled

Now for many of these nights there were great performers in their place.  Olga Borodina‘s Amneris was wonderful, Lise Lindstrom was a powerful Turandot, Rachelle Gilmore was a fantastic Olympia. Leonard Slatkin didn’t know the score so anyone will be better than him, and I am a huge fan of Fabio Luisi and trust in his ability to create a wonderful Tosca and Lulu.

I am also aware that these cancellations are not directly the fault of the house, and only rarely the fault of the performer (except in the case of Slatkin), but still the questions remain:

Why should I purchase my tickets a year in advance with this frequency of cancellations? What is the advantage for a young, busy, cash-strapped opera lover?

There must be some incentive to purchasing tickets in advance for it to be viable in the eyes of the opera world as it stands today, but as it is the risk is too great to gamble what spare money I do have on the potential of seeing a poor replacement for a star who I was scheduled to see.

Since I can no longer expect that the announced cast will show up, I will continue to go to the Met, but only purchasing tickets the day of the performance, standing room if need be.

The Met has said over and over again that they are trying to attract the next generation of opera enthusiasts. I am that audience: a 25 year old professional with the passion to attend the opera. Unfortunately, I’m getting  tired of the inconsistency and price. As I consider how I’ll buy tickets next year, it seems more likely that I will be calling for standing room tickets at noon each day I intend to go.

Rush tickets are not a possibility for me, as I work all day and cannot sit in line. We might as well  face the reality that your rush ticket program is not reaching the audience you targeted. Stroll by the rush ticket line any day and you’ll find the same retirees who would have bought family circle had the rush program not been available.

The money currently put forward for the rush ticket program would be far better spent on a “Young Met” program, allowing people such as myself a way to go to the Met regularly.

The draw for the next generation of opera fans is waning fast, and you must do something to address this situation. Realize that the people you want aren’t buying subscriptions anymore, partly because they don’t have several hundred dollars (at least) burning a hole in their pocket, and partly because they never know what they’re going to get.

You were recently given the largest gift in Met history. I hope to see some progress in coming seasons regarding these issues, and I am looking forward to another year of operatic enjoyment in your storied house, albeit on a day-by-day basis.

I welcome any response and would love to share my personal experience and thoughts with anyone willing to listen, my personal email is devon.c.estes@gmail.com.

With love and hope,

Devon C. Estes

…delicately pushing you to reflect/question your intimate religion and of the world around you. That’s only a collateral effect his shows make on you, which is what why they’re so great.” Blogger Opera Cake offers a detailed take on the new Parsifal in Stuttgart.  (Photo: Martin Sigmund)

Well, the first thing La Cieca will say about the Met’s 125th Anniversary Gala is that for all its sprawling splendor it doesn’t look quite what you’d call entertaining. Or rather let’s say it looks as if it won’t sound very entertaining. The visual element — you know, computer-animated Marc Chagall murals and Waltraud Meier prancing about in a copy of Rosa Ponselle‘s Carmen drag — will likely achieve a level of instant camp approaching that of Rosie O’Donnell‘s variety show last night. (La Cieca had no room for the phrase in the previous run-on sentence, but, anyway, good old Rosa’s “controversial” toreador pants ensemble was of course designed by “dyke, ya know” Valentina.)

Leaving aside such questions as “are there really more than a dozen people in New York iwho are really panting to hear Natalie Dessay sing Violetta,” what La Cieca wonders is: can there be a less appropriate selection for a gala than the final scene from Parsifal, and to close the first half (a la Birdie Coonan) yet? Surely someone at the Met realizes that as soon as the audience starts applauding, some heligie Kunst nut will bellow, “Shuddup! It’s a sacred festival play!”

On the other hand, La Cieca feels that in the current political climate it is a deliciously subversive act for the Met to program this music drama for its anniversary, since the company’s 1903 premiere of the work constituted perhaps the greatest example of theft of intellectual property in operatic history. Pirate-y!

And in the Times this morning (La Cieca so loves her morning papers!), Ben Ratliff does a Critic’s Notebook about rare jazz and pop music videos found on YouTube.com — the site La Cieca has been using to share a few opera vids with her cher public. La Cieca rather likes the first half of the piece, in which Mr. Ratliff salivates over footage of George Clinton and Sarah Vaughan he’d never seen before. Inevitably (and sadly) though, the larger part of the article is concerned with what the author calls “legal and ethical problems.” An anonymous spokesnazi for the RIAA intones, “uploading or distributing copyrighted material, without permission from the copyright holder, is illegal,” but an entertainment lawyer offers the opinion that YouTube is protected by a safe harbor in the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998. In the meantime, remember that you too can upload favorite operatic video content to share with the parterre community (as explained here), subject of course to YouTube’s terms of service.

This is an interesting legal problem. The Sing-Akademie claims copyright under a German law that an ancient work that has never been published may be copyrighted by the finder. The Altstadtherbst lawyers pointed out that the existing copy of the Motezuma score originated in a Venetian copyist’s shop. Hand-copying, they asserted, was the standard method of “publication” in Vivaldi’s time, and so Motezuma could hardly be called “unpublished.”

The Altstadherbst performances will proceed as scheduled beginning September 21. And La Cieca is still wondering: has anybody pitched this opera to Cecilia Bartoli yet?

Well, the law is the law, even when the law is an ass, and I suppose that given the 21stt century’s Gollumesque attitude toward intellectual property, there’s no way the piece is going to revert to where it intuitively would seem to belong, i.e., the public domain.

But here’s my problem. The Sing-Akademie have already demonstrated that they have no problem with allowing performances — after all, they authorized the premiere of Motezuma in Rotterdam last month. Their beef is that Opera Barga (and the Duesseldorf’s Altstadtherbst Festival) won’t pony up 10,000 Euros in royalties. So, alas, it all comes down to money — and, more to the point, who can afford better lawyers. Actually performing a rediscoverd work, it seems, counts for nothing: ownership of the thought is all.