The event that seemed poised to evoke the year’s biggest outpouring of Schadenfreude has finally transpired. The critical response to Angela Gheorghiu‘s first staged Tosca (Royal Opera, Covent Garden, June 13) could best be described as mixed. The diva’s vocal and visual glamour elicited kind words from all the critics, despite general reservations about a…
The New York Post‘s Clive Barnes is going to blush beet-red when he hears from the publicists (or the lawyers) who handle Placido Domingo. In a review of the Met’s Rigoletto, Barnes refers to PD as “the 72-year-old tenor.” Domingo admits to 65, though some gossips have long sniped that this figure doesn’t add up…
Ever feel a pang of nostalgia for the good old days when people dressed for the opera? For a quick cure, here’s a link you should keep bookmarked. It’s the “Look Book” section of New York magazine, featuring photos of some of the attendees of the opening night at the Met. By the looks of…
Norman Lebrecht has lost his fucking mind. My second favorite in this rabid rant is how Wieland Wagner (the “competent” stage director) had the middle name “Adolf.” (Wieland was born in 1917, six years before his mother Winifred met the fellow Lebrecht insinuates was his namesake.) The number one brain-fart in the piece is Lebrecht’s…
… is one of the milder things the critics called Anna Caterina Antonacci‘s first Medea at Toulouse earlier this month. If Antonacci can live up to even half this praise, I’m going to have to get a tattoo of her on my back! “L’ardente Anna Caterina Antonacci a véritablement fait vibrer les foules toulousaines. Chanteuse…