Random Music

RIP Dame Joan Sutherland

Very very sad to hear of the death of Joan Sutherland today aged 83.  Hard to realise that the opera stars I loved as a child and a teenager are gradually vanishing from the music scene.   Maria Callas, who I think is one of the greatest sopranos ever, died a while back but I can still remember how shocked I was at her death when she was only in her early fifties. One felt her life, despite its great success, had been one of sadness and heartbreak.  Along with Callas I listened to Dame Joan Sutherland, a totally different singer, both vocally and temperamentally.   No diva tantrums or bad press for Dame Joan, she was as
down to earth as she appeared, both delightful and charming.  In some ways her equable and unflappable character impinged on her roles and I felt at times that her characterisation was somewhat lacking, but this was more than compensated for by the Voice.

What a glorious voice it was.  I never heard an ugly note or one that was not hit slap bang in the middle.  Her coloratura and the trills and decorations could make you tingle so precise and beautiful were they.  I saw her in various operas, not as many as I would like, but of course the one which propelled her to stardom was Lucia di Lammermoor by Donizetti where the wonderful Zeffirelli production, which stayed in the House for many many years, suited her to the ground. Zeffirelli made use of her tall frame, her big boned body and had her running and swooping round the stage particularly in the mad scene where she trilled and sang as she ran in the most breathtaking manner, ending up with a spectacular seemingly boneless fall to the ground.  I was twelve years old when I saw it and it remains as clear in my mind as if it was yesterday.  Words cannot describe the audience reaction - they just went Stark Staring Mad and cheered and yelled and stamped and shrieked and it was a night to remember and bring out and talk about as I am doing now.

I have already posted about Dame Joan in an earlier post and here is the link for you here.

I have two recordings of Lucia with Dame Joan in the title role.  The first one she recorded in 1960 under the conductor, Sir John Pritchard, an elegant and inspirational musician and this is the one to have.  The score is not complete, as it is in the later recording she made with Pavarotti and conducted by her husband, Richard Bonynge, but this captures her voice at its clearest, freshest and most beautiful. I have both of these on my shelves and shall be playing one later on this evening in memory of a wonderful singer and a wonderful woman.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-11517601

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/australiaandthepacific/australia/8056601/Soprano-Dame-Joan-Sutherland-dies-age-83.html

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2010/oct/11/dame-joan-sutherland-obituary

I expect there will be full obituaries and appreciation in tomorrow's newspapers as the announcement of her death has just been made.

Oh I am so sad.

Rigoletto - Placido Domingo live from Mantua

It is a trait in opera lovers to be overly critical and to say when a performance is lauded 'oh, yes but you should have seen Callas/Sutherland/Tebaldi they were the best' as if the only good opera singer is a dead one.  I am guilty on occasion of doing this myself though I try very hard not to and I had to strain every sinew last weekend to not fall into this trap when watching the live broadcast from Mantua of Rigoletto with  Placido Domingo in the title role.

Rigoletto is one of Verdi's greatest operas, in my opinion, and one of my favourites.  I learned to love this opera from a very old recording with Tito Gobbi as Rigoletto, Giuseppe di Stefano as the Duke and Maria Callas as Gilda.  I played it so often as a teenager I wore it out. Now of course I have it on CD and still listen to it and, even though I have heard many other recordings and seen other performances, this is still my first choice.   Tito Gobbi is one of my all time favourite opera singers and I have posted about him here back in 2007, so will not repeat myself and, for me, his performance of Rigoletto is THE one and nobody else, no matter how hard I try, can replace him for me.

This does not mean that I do not enjoy seeing and listening to other interpreters of the role and I was looking forward to seeing what Domingo made of it.  Rigoletto is stuffed full of the most glorious music. I know that can be said about most Verdi operas but this opera was written when Verdi was at the height of his powers and is a stream of fantastic arias, duets and choruses without let up - totally sublime.

I watched the live broadcast of Tosca some years ago from Rome, also with Domingo and remembered just how thrilling it was so my expectations were high. Perhaps too high, as I found the use of the location in Mantua somewhat disappointing.  OK we saw some beautiful interiors and some good long shots of galleries and rooms, but on the whole the camera work was limited and it seemed to me that the producer was using a stage eye rather than a filmic one.  Far too many close ups - most opera lovers are used to viewing from a distance and it can be preferable as we don't really want to see the sweat dripping off Domingo's nose or the spittle flying out of the tenor's mouth, both of which are the inevitable consequences of the heat and the effort.

So from that point of view I did find it a little lacking.  How about the performances?  Gilda was sung beautifully, she is a Verdi heroine for whom I have little sympathy and most of the time want to shake her and Caro Nome, beautiful though it is, goes on far too long.   The Duke's role is a killer. Every single time he is on stage he has a huge sing; Questa Quella in Act I followed by El Sol del anima and a duet with Gilda followed by an imnpassioned farewell Adio, adio when he leaves; Parmi verde la Lagrime in Act II followed by a cabaletta and a chorus and then in Act III, La donna e mobile. Jose Carreras once said in an interview that when he sang this role, he would take a few days of afterwards as he was exhausted. The tenor who sang the Duke was pretty damn good and he looked pretty damn good as well. I would think that even if you were the best tenor in the world, but were bald or plump, there would be no point in auditioning for this particular performance, you had to look good also for the millions of viewers.

And so we come to Domingo.  I love Domingo and think he is a wonderful artiste.  The state of his voice is quite amazing, not sure how the sound balance may have helped but I am pretty sure that the strength and beauty of his sound did not need much   I last saw Domingo sing live about three years ago in Die Walkure at Covent Garden and I was pole axed when he opened his mouth and sang Siegmund's opening phrases.  It was like listening to a golden trumpet and every hair on my neck stood on end.  He was quite simply magnificent and the baritonal quality of his boice was perfectly suited for this part.    Therefore, his taking on Rigoletto and, before this, Simon Boccanegra, is perfectly understandable and they are two great roles and a challenge to any singer.

Domingo was totally committed to the part, that comes as no surprise, his acting and complete involvement is always there and the role is well within his range and grasp.  I thought he did really well and his raging at the courtiers in Act II followed by his plea to them to return his daughter is one of the highlights of the opera for me, and he brought a lump to my throat which is always a good sign.   The final duet with Gilda in Act III is one of the most moving Verdi ever wrote. HIs plea of Do not die, I will be all alone and begging her to stay with him always reduces me to tears and this time was no exception.

All in all a marvellous evening and experience, but and yes there is a but, where does Domingo go from here?  He has essayed two of the great Verdi baritone roles so what will be next?  While enjoying this late flowering of his singing career I am beginning to wonder if he is, perhaps, doing too much and what it is that drives him on.   I am not complaining, believe me, the longer he is with us and performing the better as far as I am concerned and I would happily pay good money to see him do this in the theatre but I felt at times, particularly in Act I that he looked a trifle uncomfortable and his gasping in distress was not just acting.  No doubt in his heavy costume it was incredibly hot and tiring but I did feel a little bit worried.

The difficulty now is finding other great baritone roles which he might want to sing.  Apart from the two he has already sung, most of the other Verdi baritones are supporting, rather than starring, roles and I cannot imagine Domingo doing these.  I almost feel that if he did it would be unfair on the rest of the cast as no matter how good they would be, the attention would be on Placido though I daresay the honour of singing with him would make up for that.  I am not sure that he really should go down this route and my worry is that he will try to sing the last great Verdi baritone part, Falstaff.   Yes, he could do it, no problem but not sure that it would really be suitable for him.  We shall see.........

What a start - Proms 2010

'"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents" grumbled Jo, lying on the rug' Little Women - L M Alcott

Substitute the words Summer and Proms for Christmas and Presents and now you will know what I feel about the Prom concerts which take place each summer at the Royal Albert Hall.  I started attending these when I was about 14 (difficult to do when the Beatles were driving all teenage girls to a frenzy so that my love of classical music was viewed as very odd to say the least), and for the next ten years or so, attended nearly every concert every night each season and it was there I learned my music, heard the first performance in this country of Shostakovitch's 5th Symphony conducted by Stokowski, my first Mahler 2 with Bernard Haitink and the Concertgebouw, my first Gerontius with Sir Malcolm Sargent and so many more I cannot list them all here, but it is a place that holds so many happy memories for me.

Last Friday was the first night with a simply stunning performance of Mahler's 8th symphony, the so called 'Symphony of a Thousand' with a huge orchestra, multiple choirs taking up all the seats way up high behind the orchestra, and multiple soloists.  It is in two parts and though I love Veni Creator Spiritus which comes first, my real love is saved for the second half which is based on Goethe's Faust and has the more glorious music (for me at any rate).  All the soloists gave it their all and it was lovely to see the soloists smiling and loving it when their colleagues  were singing.  The most sublime moment for me is when the tenor sings 'Blicket Auf' the orchestra soars away behind him, the choirs come in and from that moment on we have twenty minutes of the most beautiful and uplifting music you could hope to hear. It builds and builds and by the end always reduces me to tears and it did this time as well.

Prom Number two which I attended last night was the Welsh National Opera and Meistersinger with Bryn Terfle as Han Sachs and I have been waiting to hear him sing this for a long time.  Though there was no solo calls and the entire performance was very much a team effort, there is no disguising the fact that Bryn was head and shoulders above everybody else on the stage and of course, as a world famous opera  singer with a huge reputation, this was to be expected.  But, as with his Dutchman last year at the Opera House, which I reviewed here, there was no feeling of a superstar pinching the limelight and for this, I am most grateful having sat through certain performances in the past at an opera house where the Name jetted in, performed and jetted out not forgetting to collect his cheque as he/she left.

The Welsh National Opera, of which I am currently a friend, had two boxes in the Grand Tier and I was offered a place there for Saturday night.  Yes, it cost a bit but as I managed to return my previous inferior ticket and also had to return my ticket for the WNO in Birmingham when I was not well to my irritation and annoyance, the two of them added together more or less paid for this so that made me feel a bit better.  The box was to the left of the stage if you were looking out at the audience and only half way along the side so the view was terrific and to stand looking out at the Albert Hall and the prommers made me feel so nostalgic, but it was a good feeling.

As I said, Bryn was simply magnificent as Hans Sachs as I knew he would be, bringing warmth and nobility to the role of the Cobbler Poet. It is a wonderful part but so long and so wordy and it always amazes me that singers are able to commit everything to memory.  I feel it might be easier with say, Verdi or Puccini, which have more tunes and choruses, but Wagner is a different ball game altogether.  Takes me a little while to get into the Wagner idiom but once I am there I find as the evening wears on the music and the action slowly take me over and draw me in until I am totally engrossed.  Some of my friends recoil in horror that I will sit through something this long but when you love the music the time flies by.

As well as this seat, we also had supper laid on and very posh it was too, salmon, charcuterie, salads, fresh fruit platters, cheeses and good coffee and an endless supply of wine and soft drinks. I was most grateful for the coffee as by the last act I had been up since 6 am and was beginning to keel over.

The final act is quite quite glorious.   The writing of the Prize Song, the quintet at the end of the first half and then into St Johannes day when all the Meistersingers gather together to choose the champion singer.  The chorus came into its own here, the excitement building and the orchestra dancing along, the entrance of the Meistersingers and then THAT wonderful chorus 'Wacht Auf' at which every hair on my body stood on end and goosebumps appeared all over and from that moment on I sat on the edge of my seat on the verge of tears at listening to this simply marvelous and magical music.   And yes I know, Hitler loved Meistersinger, annexed it and used to have it performed at his Nuremberg rallies, and yes I know Wagner was not a nice man to put it mildly, but all this is forgotten when listening to his genius.

Standing ovation at the end and audience yelling and shouting, as was I and hope that the WNO revive this in the next year or so and I shall make sure I get to Cardiff to see it. In the meantime  Bryn is  singing Scarpia in Tosca again next year and shall make a point of seeing that - for the third time - which will keep me going even if his Tosca is Angela G again who I really find irritating.  No matter.

As I write this I am listening to Prom Number 3 which is Simon Boccanegra, the Covent Garden production which was shown on BBC 2 last week.  Talk about an embarrassment of riches, Mahler, Wagner and Verdi, Bryn Terfel and Placido Domings all in three days and if you queued and prommed you could see these marvelous performances for a total sum of £15. Unbelievable.  It is at this time of year, that I forgive the BBC for its arrogance, its total disregard for viewers thoughts and feelings, its dismissal of all criticism and feel that my licence fee is justified (come September when the Proms are over this feeling will, no doubt, fade....)

After the concert was over I headed off to stay the night with my family and so glad that the evening was not ruined by having to get the Vomit Comet home from Liverpool Street, always a most dispiriting experience.  I could curl up in bed in less than an hour and fall asleep just remembering this glorious evening and then drove home this morning with no traffic around and the sun shining .

And just to finish the weekend off nicely, I entered a comment on the Classic FM Facebook page in response to John Suchet (new programme on this station and he is excellent) asking what we were all doing and my response was 'I'm lying on the sofa enjoying thinking about Bryn in a wonderful performance of Meistersinger last night' and lo and behold, ten minutes later he played some Bryn and said 'and  I know this will please Elaine Simpson-Long' and I nearly fell off my sofa in shock.  

So tired but full of happy memories of a simply wonderful evening.  Now I will be drawing my horns in having spent more than I should recently but, as I have said before, I will happily live off baked beans for the chance to attend such performances which are uplifting to the soul and spirit.

All in one soprano

"Elaine: Do you think there is a single soprano(living or dead) who could do justice to all of the female arias? Is there one you would like to hear try?"

This question was left in the comments section on the Nation's Favourite Aria by Thomas on the Porch and it gave me pause to think and I decided to post my thoughts on this really interesting question.

I think the answer to this question has to be No.   Because of the different styles of music and voices I think it would be well nigh impossible to sing all kinds of roles - if you are a Rossini coloratura  then you are highly unlikely to try Wagner.  If you are a Wagner soprano then you will probably not essay Handel or Mozart and so on and so forth.  

Having said that some sopranos have tried. The wonderful Australian soprano, Joan Sutherland, had one of the most flexible voices I think I have ever heard.  She was famous, of course, for her Lucia di Lammermoor (Donizetti) which shot her to international fame, she also sang in Fille du Regiment with Luciana Pavarotti (see earlier post on this opera), sang Verdi (her recording of Traviata with Bergonzi which is in my collection is wonderful), she also sang Bellini and Puccini and with her husband Richard Bonynge, brought Handel back into fashion in the 60s with performances of Semele and other of his neglected operas.   Purists nowadays would pour scorn on these full blooded (if Handel can ever be so described) lush orchestral readings but they certainly made an impact.  She also sang Wagner, the Woodbird on Solti's Ring cycle for Decca, but that was a small part and very suited to her voice.

She sang in Tales of Hoffman by Offenbach, sung Meyerbeer, Delibes and a simply gorgeous album of old fashioned Victorian songs - I simply love her I dreamt I dwelt in Marble Halls.   Queen of the Night in Magic Flute also one of her roles...I could go on and on.  So I suppose Dame Joan was pretty wide in her repertoire but her main body of singing was coloratura for which her voice was perfect. She only dipped in and out of the other repertoire.

I pretty much grew up on the Decca recordings Joan Sutherland made, mainly conducted by her husband. Excellent though he was, I do sometimes wish she had ventured out and tried different conductors - I do wonder how she would have fared with Karajan or Kempe and others.  If she had a failing, it was that she did not venture outside her comfort zone but then, if you know what you can do well, I suppose you may as well stick with it.

The other soprano who I grew up with and who definitely did NOT stay in her comfort zone was, of course, Maria Callas.   I know that some people cannot understand the myth and legend around this wonderful singer, finding her voice harsh and not beautiful and, I have to agree, there were times when it grated. BUT, and it is a big but, just listen to what she did with it.  The emotion and feelings in everything she sang.  Dame Joan was just so beautiful to listen to but she never made me cry.  Maria Callas did.  The last fifteen minutes of Madame Butterfly, gut wrenching, her Gilda in Rigoletto with the  incomparable Tito Gobbi, her Visi d'arte in the second act of Tosca, the mad scene in Lucia...well those are just a few examples.  

She sang Rossini - her Rosina in Barbiere leaving all others standing, her Verdi and Puccini magnificent and I have a very old recording of her singing Wagner's Liebestod (in Italian) which makes the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.  What a Brunnhilde she would have made.

I am well aware that I am beginning to ramble because talking about opera always does that to me - I want to say so much that it all comes out in a jumble and my fingers on the keyboard cannot keep up with what I want to say so apologies for the witter.

So Thomas - thanks for the question and as I said at the start - the answer is No and I have heard, in the two sopranos cited here, them having a try and wonderful though they both were, in the end both Joan Sutherland and Maria Callas sang what they did best with stunning results for which I am most grateful. I think the variety and wide range of opera singers is what makes this art form so endlessly fascinating and keeps me enthralled.

The Nation's Favourite Aria - No it's not Nessun Dorma

The BBC radio and TV have designated June the month of opera and we are being showered with goodies, Pappano on BBC4 with his history of Italian opera, full of the usual shots of presenter wandering around Italian streets, with a title appearing on the screen, Milan, Bologna, Venice (the water gives his one away), and looking at the ceilings of various wonderful churches/opera houses with his mouth open. Acutely irritating and if they cut these out I reckon the producers would have another five or six minutes to use more beneficially.  BUT, I must not moan, chances of seeing and hearing opera on the Beeb are very rare and don't come round very often, so I must make the most of it.  And I am.

Radio 3 have gone down the Classic FM route (they now play single movements from symphonies and concertos which they scorned to do before but now do) and have decided to find out the Nation's Favourite Aria and have asked all Radio 3 listeners to send in their nominations.  Of course, Nessun Dorma has been nominated but to my delight features nowhere on the ten top favourites.  I love this aria, make no mistake, but after the Three Tenors and Pav rather high jacking it and turning it into the equivalent of a football anthem, I had rather tired of hearing it played ad nauseam.

The ten that made the final cut were announced this morning and here they are:

• Casta Diva from Norma by Bellini
• Che faro senza Euryice from Orfeo by Gluck
• Der Holle Rache from The Magic Flute by Mozart
• Dove Sono from The Marriage of Figaro by Mozart
• E Lucevan le stelle from Tosca by Puccini
• Gluck, das mir verblieb from Die Tote Stadt by Korngold
• Liebestod from Tristan and Isolde by Wagner
• Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix from Samson and Delilah by Saint Saens
• Ruhe sanft, mein holdes Leben from Zaide by Mozart
• Song to the Moon from Rusalka by Dvorak
• When I am laid in earth from Dido and Aeneas by Purcell

The more eagle eyed of you will have noted there are, in fact, eleven arias. This is because of a tie between two choices.  My thoughts on this list are that it certainly is a mixture and a surprise: ok three by Mozart, not unexpected, one by Korngold which is and what really amazes me is not a single entry by Verdi.  I could reel off dozens I would like to see here but Radio 3 listeners are an eclectic bunch judging by the above.

My choice of one of my favourite arias did not make it.  Un di all'azzuro spazio from Act one of Andre Chenier - a simply stunning show stopper and I have a very old video, now well worn, with Jose Carreras when he was young and beautiful, singing this but I was obviously a lone voice.

We are now asked to choose the Aria of Arias out of these ten and out of the limited choice on offer I have no hesitation in voting for my favourite. See if you can guess which one it is...

La Fille de Regiment at the Royal Opera House

Last time, in fact the only time, I saw this opera the two leading parts of Tonio and Marie were taken by a young, slim Luciano Pavarotti and Joan Sutherland.   It was put on at the Royal Opera House as a show  off vehicle for these two superstars of that time. Both of them had 'a voice', what they lacked in spades was any acting skills whatsoever and I remember their static stand and sing performances which would never be accepted today.  Joan Sutherland's voice was unbelievable, not a note wrong, superb coloratura, rock solid you knew she would never hit a bum note, glorious sound. Pavarotti, in this Donizetti opera was singing with a clear, ringing, pinging tone knocking off the famous high C's in Tonio's act one aria with shattering ease that brought the house down.  No sign then, not just of his future obesity, but of the laziness that characterised his voice as he became more and more the opera superstar, no scooping up to a top note instead of hitting it spot on, no blurring over runs and no endless performance of Nessun Dorma etc etc.  If you think I am being unfair to Luciano, then get hold of an early CD of his and listen to his technique and then listen to a later recording and spot the difference.

Sorry for this long preamble, but this is just to make the point that though I saw these two superstars sing in this opera, in my opinion Juan Diego Florez and Nathalie Dessay knock spots off them. This is an occasion when I do not do what long term opera lovers tend to do and say 'Ah but you should have heard Callas/Tebaldi/Price etc etc' as though the best opera singers are the dead ones or those who sang many years ago.

As Marie, Nathalie Dessay in her dungarees with her pigtail a la Pippi Longstocking is a stroppy delight (one critic likened her performance to half Eliza Doolittle, half Olive Oyl and he is right), tossing off coloratura while running around, lying on the floor, ironing the regiment's shirts or being hoiked up in the air by her regiment.

Juan Diego is simply breathtakingly her equal.  He has such an engaging personality on stage, every member of the audience just knows he is having a wonderful time and loving what he is doing.  The famous Mes Ami act one aria was reeled off as if the high C's were in the middle of his voice, sung with huge panache and sheer joy and, needless to say, the audience went totally barmy at the end shrieking and screaming, me included.   But it is not all show off stuff and in the second Act aria 'pour me rapprocher de Marie' when he is singing of his love he honed his voice right down and sang with such softness, feeling and beauty of tone that my throat closed up, my eyes filled and tears trickled down my cheeks. So heartbreakingly beautiful, I found myself physically clutching my heart. A glance round the house was to see an audience at one and if the proverbial pin had been dropped it would have sounded like a cannon shot.  Long time since I have heard such exquisite singing.   So two wonderful singers and he and Dessay have a wonderful on-stage chemistry which reaches out to everyone watching.

There is a very interesting article in the programme which, incidentally now costs an eye watering £7 (didn't buy I borrowed and read my friend Rosemary's in the interval) about the silliness of the plot of La Fille du Regiment and how similar it is in many ways to the Savoy operas of Gilbert and Sullivan.  Marie was abandoned as a child, found by the regiment who looked after her and brought her up, later on her real mother, an aristocrat (naturally) is found and she is forced to go and live with her and make a good marriage even though she is in love with Tonio who is now quite ineligible.  As in all G&S we have  patter songs, a silly trio, the daft chorus as well as glorious tunes and love duets. 

In the end it all ends happily as in the best comic operas and as well as all the above, we have the Duchess of Crackenthorp, a non-singing role and just sooo G&S, it is unbelievable, and this part was taken by Dawn French who had the audience in hysterics. 

I cannot recall spending such a fun evening at Covent Garden, the sense of oneness we all felt with each other, the complete experience that everyone in the House was having a simply spiffing time, it was an absolutely gorgeous evening and though the cost of our seats, our hotel (we decided to stay overnight) the congestion and parking charges etc etc would probably have paid for a holiday on the Costa del Sol, it was worth every single penny.  

I have said before that though I am now living on a pension and have to watch my pennies more than hitherto, I will never give up the opera even if I have to live on baked beans for a week. The most glorious art form ever, in my humble opinion, one which lives the spirit and the soul.  I love love love love it.

'Popstar to Opera star makes me sick'....

So says Rupert Christiansen in the Daily Telegraph.  Now this is the man who pitched into Bryn Terfel when he pulled out of the Ring at ROH a year or so ago(at very short notice I have to be honest) because his son had had an accident and said that it was the 'mother's job to be at home with him'.  I paraphrase.   This reaction brought about a slew of indignant letters, not only from mothers, but fathers also and in an interview Bryn was less than pleased.

I took Bryn's side on this (if I have to be honest I had not booked a ticket so could afford to be charitable), but rather admired Rupert C for his article even if I did not agree with it and ever since have checked his reviews and writing about opera.  He is acerbic, witty and spot on most of the time and today I read his thoughts on Pop star to Opera Star, in which he articulates much more succinctly and to the point, my thoughts expressed in my post yesterday on this appalling show.

Read and enjoy!

Rupert Christiansen on Popstar to Opera Star

Car Crash TV - Popstar to Opera Star

I watched this last week and was left in such a state of stunned disbelief that I decided I would watch the second broadcast before I cast judgment, and also to make totally sure that it really was as appallingly bad as I thought it was.

It was.

Words cannot begin to express just how utterly dire, tacky, crass and cringe making this programme is.  If there is anybody reading this who remembers the film The Producers and the reaction of the audience at the end of the movie on watching a musical all about Hitler, then that was how I reacted upon seeing these z-list, out of date, or failed pop singers trying to 'do' opera.   They are mentored by Katherine Jenkin and Rolando Villazon, a seriously weird combination if ever there was one and while I can understand the Welsh Warbler doing this programme as she never misses an opportunity for publicity, I am a loss as to why Rolando Villazon is here.  When interviewed he said it 'sounded fun'.  I wonder if he still feels that way.

While watching K and R I am mesmerised by their appearance.  Both these mentors have serious hair, and I mean, serious.  Katherine J is a millionairess now I gather and not short of a bob or two, so I wonder why she cannot get hold of a hairdresser who will get rid of the two inch black roots she sports at every opportunity.  Whilst agreeing that this contrasts nicely with the peroxide curls below, it is hardly classy.  Then we have the inch think make up, the false eyelashes, the immobile face, the static smile through which she lilts gently and the total banality of all she has to say, and one wonders just why this woman is so rich and famous.

Now we turn to Rolando (always thought he looks a bit like  Blackadder  in the form of Rowan Atkinson, though I have to say that while Mr A is no oil painting, he has his own charms) who is sporting a Bob Marley who has had an electric shock hair do, that defies description.  When coaching and mentoring he tosses this head of curls around manically and his eyes stare and I am seriously wondering if he is going to get through the series without imploding.

These two form part of the judging panel and the show is introduced by Mylene Klass and Alan Titchmarsch which says it all really.

I sat down after my first watching and I have to tell you now I had to keep leaving the room I found it so insupportably dire, and told myself over and over again not to be a musical snob.  I have had this accusation levelled at me in the past when I have not rejoiced in the likes of Ms Jenkin, Russell Watson and others promoted as opera singers when they have never sung in opera in their life, and I really think that this accusation is unjust.  I have loved a lot of pop music in my life, and pretty sure a lot of it was rubbish, so do not take the moral high ground on that, but now I do like music that is good, no matter what genre it is in.   And my main problem with this show is WHY. Why are they doing it?  The obvious answer is, well to get on TV and to get my fading career back on track, but quite a few of those appearing are doing OK so why bother. 

About fifteen years ago now, a singer called Michael Bolton who I knew only because I had seen trailers of him on the TV sporting long wispy blonde hair hanging down his back, recorded an album of opera arias.  It was dreadful and sold about two copies.  I saw him a year or so later on the TV singing and playing the piano and he was terrific, stylish, charming and comfortable with what he was doing.   A few years ago I actually had to stop the car one day while out driving to sit and listen to a travesty of a singer performing some lute songs by John Dowland.  Turned out to be Sting.  Now whether you like Sting or not (I don't) he is a mega star, hugely successful and a master of his trade.  This record was AWFUL.

The point I am trying to make, albeit longwindedly, is why do they feel the need to sing classical music?  Opera stars perform the so called 'crossover' repertory with success and we know why they do it - money as well as relaxing the voice and enjoying a different style of singing (said in many interviews which I have heard), and of course the records sell well and everyone is happy all round.

The difference here of course is that opera singers can sing the lighter repertoire easily as they are professionally trained and know what they are doing, but I cannot seriously imagine that any opera star is going to want to sing pop music to prove they can do it, and they would likely do it very badly indeed.  So I ask again, why are these pop stars trying to sing opera?  Do they feel that no matter how good they are in their own style, they will not be regarded as 'good' singers unless they can sing opera?   Do they need this validation? 

I suppose in the end, it is a gimmick and an excuse for a TV programme and while I am also no TV snob when it comes to this kind of programme (I am a Strictly Come Dancing addict and also am now watching Dancing on Ice each week), but feel that this series is a big mistake as I cannot see what any of those taking part are going to gain from it apart from publicity, and though the adage that all publicity is good publicity comes to mind here, some of those performing are just so unremittingly awful that I really cannot see that it is going to do them any good at all.

So after watching a woman from the Shakespeare Sisters attempt Un Bel Di on Friday, miked up to heaven with a full echo chamber and the aria cut to 30 seconds, with every sinew on her neck tortuously stretched and quivering with tension, and the week before Alec James ex-Blur singer essaying Largo al Factotum, I have decided that I will not be watching any more.

But, but, but this is Sunday and I have the awful feeling that this programme in its total and utter stomach churning naffness is going to lure me back.  It is pure masochism but I feel I should check in every now and then just to see how much worse it can get....

PS have just come across this review on the Arts Desk.  Oh the relief to know that I am Not Alone

And also a review over on Intermezzo, which is one of my favourite blogs as the owner is an ardent opera lover and adores Placido, as well as finding Katherine Jenkin as annoying as I do.  For all those reasons I love reading her opinions....

And I note that she has also used the expression 'car crash TV'.  Before I did, I hasten to add but I did not copy ..promise.

A Good Day at the Box Office

If I receive bad service I am always ready to complain and so, when I receive excellent service I feel I should also make a noise about it so I am going to.

I had sent in a booking form to Covent Garden requesting two tickets for La Fille due Regiment with Juan Diego Florez and Nathalie Dessay and, as I was going with my friend Rosemary who is very arthritic, I requested seats in the Grand Tier where there is a lift and she can manage.  I rang up the main office a few weeks ago to check which side of the Grand Tier I needed as only one is accessible by lift from the main entrance and was told the Left side.  So I duly put this down on the form and heavily underlined this request.

Well, it seems that the lift is on the Right side.  And the reason I know this?  I had a telephone call from the Box Office at the House telling me so.  The gentleman I spoke to was Peter and he endeared himself to me immediately by telling me that I had made a total 'cock up' of the booking as not only had I got the  location wrong, I had sent him an inadequate cheque for the two seats as I had misread the ticket price.  I defended myself stoutly about the mistake in the location by telling him that I had phoned the office a few weeks ago and had spoken to somebody who had told me about the location of the lift, to which he sniffed contemptuously and told me 'well, you obviously spoke to a stage hand..'  Sniggers all around.

To cut a long story short, this Simply Wonderful and Marvellous individual had held onto two tickets for me, the last two for that performance, on the chance that if he rang I would be in and thank goodness I was. So I whipped out my credit card and five minutes later it was all booked.  I called down blessings upon his head and I have now emailed the Opera House to extol the virtues of Peter and to hope that this will do him some good.

Of course, I have to hope that Mr Florez turns up.  There is no guarantee  of course and all opera goers know this, but I was incandescent last year when the performance of Barbiere that I had booked, was the one prformance he cancelled.  Once more the box office came to the rescue after I sent off one of what my daughters call Mum's Rants and all was well.  The evening at Barbiere was sublime and here is a link to my earlier review which was over on Random Jottings.  Cannot wait to see him in Fille so a glorious night out awaits as you can see from this over on YouTube.

And also today, I have managed to get a seat for Bryn in Meistersinger.  Calloo Cally o frabjous day.  OK I now have to eat baked beans for supper for a week or two but I don't care.  I am prepared to go into the red for Mr T but god help him if he cancels.....

Wagner and me

My love of Wagner started in the 1970's when I had a very good friend, Cliff, a total Wagner fanatic who was raving about a Ring cycle in English at the Coliseum, the then new home of English National Opera. The conductor of this project was Reginald Goodall, a tiny, shy gnome-like little man with large horn rimmed glasses who barely spoke to anyone and was practically anonymous.  For years he had been a repetiteur at the Opera House, beavering away in a little room at the top of the Royal Opera House, aptly named Valhalla, ignored and undervalued by the music staff at Covent Garden until the ENO gave him his golden opportunity.

Purists says Wagner should only be sung in German. I am not going to argue about this, but for me listening and learning my Wagner in English was the best thing I could have done.  No matter how well one knows the stories and how often one sees the operas (and I have attended the Ring many times) the nuances in the language can pass you by.  Having the words so clearly projected in this wonderful production enabled me to really understand what was going on and helped my future Wagner watching enormously.  Some thirty years later, despite being so much more familiar with the Ring, I find the surtitles at the Royal Opera House hugely helpful and welcome their introduction.

There were many jewels in the Cycle's crown, Rita Hunter being one of them.  She sang Brunhilde, looking like everyone's idea of an old fashioned opera diva (in other words, she was a very large lady), but oh my goodness what a voice.  Not much in the way of acting, she was hampered for obvious reasons, but to listen to that glorious sound was enough.  Alberto Remedios was her Siegfried with a rock solid technique and a strong heldentenor voice which, at times not quite so beautiful as one would like, was full of musicality and a discipline which enabled him to sing full voice right to the end of Twilight of the Gods  (more than could be said of the Siegfried I unfortunately heard at the House a couple of years ago).  Both he and Rita Hunter came from Liverpool and, being ardent football fans, used to have sotto voce conversations on stage about their football team when there was a gap and the orchestra were playing....

But, out of all these jewels, the one who shone the brightest, for me anyway, was Norman Bailey who sang the role of Wotan. Not only was his voice superb, but he portrayed the tortured, guilt ridden god with real humanity and warmth.  The last act of The Valkyrie (Die Walkure) when he bids farewell to his beloved daughter, Brunhilde, is one of the most sublime passages of opera every written, and each time I saw him sing it at the Coliseum (some 12 times in all), he moved me to tears.  I met Norman Bailey on a few occasions after performances when I lurked at the stage door and found him to be a delightful man, kind, patient and thoughtful.  No diva like tantrums for him.  In some ways, his personality got in the way of some of his more 'evil' parts, such as the governor of the prison in Fidelio.  His underlying goodness came through in every part he sang. 

This, of course, made him the perfect Hans Sachs in Die Meistersinger in which I saw him sing, and  which was one of those nights at the opera house which remain in one's mind for ever.   It was on Midsummer's Eve, the same night on which the story of the Master singers is set and it was to be the last time Reginald Goodall conducted this particular opera. 

Odd how sometimes a performance can take wing.  I have heard several conductors talking about this phenomenon and they all agree that they never know beforehand whether it is going to happen, but the moment they pick up the baton, by some strange osmosis, everyone is aware that this is going to be one of those unforgettable nights.  This was such an one and I remember the applause at the end carrying on for some 45 minutes, the feeling of happiness and bliss that I felt during this performance, and the shock of emerging into St Martin's Lane at the end of the opera and coming back to earth with the noise of London traffic bursting my bubble.  I lived in London then and I remember walking home from the Coliseum back to my flat - about 40 minutes but it passed by in a flash and I felt as if I was about six feet off the ground, so glorious was the music that was filling my mind.

A couple of years ago, I saw Bryn Terfel as Wotan, a part I had been waiting for him to sing since seeing him as a very young man in the Cardiff Singer of the World competition when he electrified the audience with an aria from The Flying Dutchman.  I knew then that he would sing in the Ring Cycle one day and that I would be there when he did.  Well, I was and after hearing him essaying this role, I knew I had found a Wotan to equal Norma Bailey.   All I needed was for him to sing Die Meistersinger to make my opera going complete as I am pretty darned sure that he will also be superb in this part.

So, delighted to report that June 2010 is in my diary.  Bryn is singing in Die Meistersinger with the Welsh National opera and I have become a Friend of the Welsh National Opera in order to have first dibs on tickets.  I will drive there, stay overnight and just wallow in what I know is going to be a wonderful experience in the opera house. If I ha\ve to live off baked beans for a week or two, then so be it.

My darling friend Cliff, who introduced me to Wagner, died in a road accident some years ago and I still miss him and every time I listen to Wagner he is in my mind.  Oh, he would have loved to have heard Bryn but perhaps he is somewhere in a Valhalla of his own listening in.  I would like to think so...