I wanna be the one to walk in the sun
Two recent Paminas feature in concerts at Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall.
58 pieces since 2013 — in 30 roles, at 13 companies, most often at Metropolitan Opera.
15 pieces as Metropolitan Opera — stats above show all coverage for Christian Van Horn.
View allTwo recent Paminas feature in concerts at Lincoln Center and Carnegie Hall.
A messy new I puritani at the Met is a historic and historical disappointment.
Les Contes d’Hoffmann is something of a puzzle in which some of the pieces are missing and others been altered to fit since Offenbach died before he could complete and revise the work.
I’m old enough to remember when Yannick Nézet-Séguin could do no wrong.
It’s autumn in New York, baby.
Old opera productions at the end of their performing life can be sad affairs.
On the train ride home I was thinking that I don’t want to see or hear Norma ever again.
Saturday’s performance of Le nozze di Figaro at the Met mined the humor from Mozart’s divine setting of Beaumarchais’s play about a crazy day in the Almaviva household.
Although the gold glitter cannons detonated at the end of the act were an ostentatious reminder that this was a celebration of the new year, it seemed that the only words on anyone’s lips as the audience filed out of the theater were “Viva Netrebko!”
Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra reigned supreme at the opening night of Wozzeck on Friday evening, rendering every snarl and shimmer of Berg’s score with gripping intensity.
There are shows with iconic characters, and there are shows with iconic characters playing iconic characters.
“Trove Thursday” keeps the evil deeds going this All Saints’s Day with a vintage La Scala broadcast of Arrigo Boito’s only completed opera Mefistofele.
In Schikaneder’s patriarchal cosmology, darkness is the province of emotional women—not just the erratic fury of the Queen of the Night, but the pathetic supplications of Pamina as well.
Mortality is ugly—it smells, it makes uncomfortable noises, it takes its time; and then there is the overwhelming sense of dread and helplessness.
Falstaff, Verdi’s final opera, is exuberantly inventive, bubbling and roiling with ideas the 79-year-old composer was too impatient to develop.
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