T'was the Night Before New Year's

And once again, with great apologies to Clement Clarke Moore!)

T’was the night before New Year’s and all through the Met
Garanca was smoking (I mean sans cigarette!)
The boo-birds were readying for opening night,
All dripping with malice – all spry for a fight.
While just hours before, there had been a debut
Dave Pomeroy sang Hoffmann (and pretty well, too!)
Some pronounced the voice “small” . . . others, “vin ordinaire”
Others yawned “he’s not Gedda, why the hell should I care?”

“I miss the old days” seemed the theme of the season
“We had real stars back then,” was the most proffered reason.
“We’d Tebaldi and Milanov and Schipa and Jussi
We had bassos like Pinza, so just keep your Pertusi!”
Others fought back, “they’re dead now, a new day has dawned!”
But the old guard dismissed them and collectively yawned,
“Oh yes, now there’s Handel and di capos galore”
So much quicker than Ambien, do you mind if I snore?”

So, this year we had Tosca, all stripped down and edgy,
Some praised it as “boffo” some yelled “goddamned reggie!”
They clamored for Franco, they demanded “tradition!”
They made it quite clear, “the old way’s our mission.”

Then the Janacek came and the ticket sales ceased
“Why the hell would they do such a depressing piece?
His music’s all spiky, all self-reverential
And with no tunes, why it’s all so damned inconsequential!”
“There’s no plot” - “There’s no story”- “there’s no love scenes” they cried
(And without intermission their bladders were fried!)

So they waited for Hoffmann, they waited so long,
While others complained “the acts’ orders all wrong!”
They wanted the trio, Antonia and such
They wanted it badly, they wanted it much
Then came coughs, cold and fevers as replacements came
(Though Held and Netrebko held fast to their game)
And while Bartlett’s production got mix-ed reviews
The show’s been a hit (so what else is news?)

Still they turned on the Gelb – a great list of complaints
(Turning men like Joe Volpe and Bing into saints)
“Why he’s ruining the Met and he’s killing tradition,
With his operas ‘bout Gandhi and . . . nuclear fission
We want things with nice tunes, we want sets that are pretty!
Not these dirges in darkness all dirty and gritty,
Bring back halcyon days of Nate Merrill and O’Hearn,
For this surely is what TRUE opera lovers yearn,

So, tonight we get Carmen, that hot Spanish wench,
Performed by a Latvian singing in French,
And we’ll see what distinction is brought by Brit, Eyre
(Who made Billy Crudup a hot dame with flair!)
But remember, what matters here most is the story
And of course, Bizet’s score – which is covered in glory . . .

So in honor of opera from Berg to Bellini
Let us bury all hatchets, let’s all raise a martini
(or a glass of champagne or of cider or beer)
And with opera all welcome a Happy New Year!

Happy New Year Everbody!

DVD: Janacek's From The House Of The Dead

What an emotionally harrowing experience is watching this opera for the first time. Stephane Metge has made a film using the production by Patrice Chereau and Pierre Boulez (together again 30 some years after their famous Bayreuth Ring) and what a film it is. Boulez, almost literally seems to conjure this stunning performance from the Mahler Chamber Orchestra. From its haunting, jangly opening I was brought to mind of Strauss and Prokofiev and how all three use the orchestral colors in the boldest possible - and not always most subtle ways. The score is a wonder of violence, tenderness, dreamlike and gritty realism. It is magnificent.


Metge's camera work gets right into the middle of things, roaming through Richard Peduzzi's stark mile high walls with a voyueristic violence that thrusts the viewer into the world of this terrible place. Pulling episodes from Dostoevsky's tale, Janacek's opera is virtually plotless, yet this which is not to say "nothing happens" because there is plenty to focus on, as these hapless gulag prisoners live, suffer, dance, dream and reminisce of their lives outside these walls. Note I didn't say dream "of happier times" for the stories they tell of their pre-prison lives are as terrifying and violent as the world they create for themselves within the walls.

As Alexandr, Olaf Bar's entrance is terrifying stuff, clearly a man of some means, besuited and bespectacled, the guards and inmates encircle and strip him, hurling his glasses into the courtyard. When he later emerges near the end of the act, filthy, shackled, and blindly crawling across ground, it's tough not to weep But, as in life, there are occasional acts of kindness and one such here between Alexandr and the boy prisoner Aljeja (a remarkable and heartbreaking performance by young tenor Eric Stoklossa) is sufficient to remind us these are still human beings, still part of the family of man, still "us."

John Mark Ainsley is a riveting presence throughout giving seering performance as Skuratov. Mad with grief, and imprisoned "for falling in love" - we watch his pathetic tale played out as he changes his garments, his mind seeming to hold the focus of his love story to keep him centered - but clearly not working. Mostly silent during the 3rd act, Ainsley still manages to give a tour de force performance - simultaneously chilling and touching. It is a stand out performance from an ensemble filled with amazing work.

At the center of the second act - and perhaps the longest sequence of the opera - is a harrowing "pageant" a ballet of depraved sexuality played out by some of the prisoners for the entertainment of the rest of the gulag. The symbolic meanings of what goes on are made clear without feeling obvious. It is stunningly choreographed (as is most of the movement seen throughout) by Chereau's collaborator Theirry Thieu Niang.

Centering on the lives and stories of these men, Chereau tends to keep the spectacles down, but he cannot resist giving us several arresting coups de theatre, particularly at the end of each act. Each of these is, in their own way, visually stunning and complimentary to Janacek's amazing score. Everything comes together perfectly, every element of the score, drama, characterizations and visual elements serves to bring this difficult work to life and when it's brief 100 minutes are over, every feeling, every emotion was felt both deep in my bones and raw on the surface.

I am thrilled the Metropolitan Opera will be featuring this production in 2009/10 season. Wild horses won't be able to keep me away.

p.