Among a trio of contemporary operas, Our Own JJ confesses he just doted on Heartbreak Express, but “You Us We All was not my cup of twee.” [New York Observer]
“Puccini’s Tosca is what is known in the trade as a ‘bread and butter’ opera, which in general is a fair appraisal. It’s something familiar and unthreatening you consume while you wait for the main course (e.g., next month’s new William Kentridge production of Lulu) to arrive.” [The Observer]
“Everyone complains about how there is no great singing in opera anymore, but last week’s performances suggest that’s not so. The singing today is mostly fine; it’s everything else that’s the problem.”
“Along with every other music journalist in New York, I was blindsided by this news. If ever there was a company that appeared the picture of fiscal and artistic good health, it was Gotham.”
“This throwback to the golden age of opera—superhuman singing greeted with frenzied ovations—was a function of a perfect storm of excitement.”
Part of what makes opera seem, at least, a camp art form is that fans of the genre have such inconsistent taste.
For instance, the mule is more intelligent and more patient than its parents the horse and the donkey.