Drunk history Drunk history

Last night was my fourth or fifth wade into the slough of Bartlett Sher’s production of Offenbach’s Les Contes d’Hoffmann at the Met since its premiere in 2009.

‘Ja, ja’ land ‘Ja, ja’ land

We leave behind the Vienna of the 1740s, the time of breeches, fans and white wigs.

“Come in, Mr. Tact” “Come in, Mr. Tact”

“‘Fat-pack’ critic-attacked mezzo to debut at Carnegie Hall”

21st century blues 21st century blues

Your doyenne peers into the future, or, to be more accurate, into the Future Met Wiki, to reveal the latest rumors on casting and repertoire.

Bee movie Bee movie

La Cieca is gradually coming to the conclusion that Tara Erraught (pictured) has built her dressing room over an Indian burial mound.

The subject was Rosenkavalier The subject was Rosenkavalier

La Cieca looks forward to seeing (in the virtual sense) all her cher public bright and early tomorrow morning for the webcast of the controversial production of Der Rosenkavalier from Glyndebourne.

“And one for Pavarotti!” “And one for Pavarotti!”

The apparently underemployed mezzo Alice Coote has been hitting the laptop again, this time delivering a rant that only makes sense if you read it aloud, slurring, “An’ another thing!” after each paragraph.

Breaking! And I don’t mean that in the newsroom “scoop” sense Breaking! And I don’t mean that in the newsroom “scoop” sense

There goes my very last nerve.