is it the girl or is it the gown?

“The campy diva lover in me should exult at the credit in the program ‘Renée Fleming‘s Costumes by Christian Lacroix,’ but in fact the couturier’s frocks were something of a mishmash. Best was a shimmering gold sheath that set off Fleming’s first entrance and trim waistline to perfection; worst was a rumpled ivory silk ballgown…

divan decadence

Our Own Gualtier Maldè reports: Not every opera has to be a masterpiece.  I couldn’t subsist on a steady diet of Tristan und Isolde, Die Zauberfloete, Fidelio, plus Otello,  Falstaff et al.  Frankly the occasional light comic bonbon or trashy but fun melodramatic tunefest makes a nice palate cleanser.  I am talking Adriana Lecouvreur, La…

the wails of august

Several of you cher public have been kind enough to forward to me an email from Peter Gelb offering the Met’s apology for the debacle of the first day of subscriber ticket exchanges. Though La Cieca has sneered a bit at the Buoso Donati contingent, she certainly can understand why loyal subscribers might feel that…

chaco a son gout

I thought that it would be fun to tell you about a little concert last Sunday here in Montréal, with Renée Fleming, Diana Damrau, Joyce DiDonato and Matthew Polenzani. It was actually the first time that I have heard any of them in the flesh, so I was most curious to see if the voices…

One morning she visited him in a dream

“She had awakened desire in him, and he had once approached the house of Thais. But he stopped on the threshold of the courtesan’s house, partly restrained by the natural timidity of extreme youth– he was then but fifteen years old– and partly by the fear of being refused on account of his want of…