Oops . . . I Did(n't Do) It Again

For the second time, I have missed a Matthias Goerne recital for which I had a ticket. The first time was in the summer of 2005, when I couldn't have been bothered to drive three hours through the wilderness to head to Tanglewood. (I also missed Deborah Voigt that summer, for the same reason, and also with a ticket in my possession.) This time, it's for a far less justifiable reason.

See, I use iCal as my diary. It works just fine, but there's a little problem when I fly back and forth across five time zones. Dates move around. I loaded Salle Pleyel's web site to see what was on the Goerne's program for tonight, only to discover that, yes, the recital was last night. As in, last %$#@!&* night!

So, I have never heard Goerne live, and at this rate, I never will.

I also missed the Barenboim/Pape (yes, Rene Pape) Boris Godunow at the Berlin Staatsoper on Thursday. I let my first-row seat go to waste because work tied me down here in Paris.

Other events I missed this season, despite having a ticket: the Opera Bastille's L'amour des trois oranges (missed for Kiri Te Kanawa in Reading the night before; couldn't have made it back in time); Ben Heppner (chose to hear Cecilia Bartoli instead); and Ian Bostridge (decided to remain in States in January).

My first brush with the sort of disappointment I'm experiencing right now occured in June 2005, when I missed Karita Mattila's Paris recital. I was jetlagged and my nap lasted three hours too long. It took my quite a while to recover from that loss. Closing night of Jenufa at the Met last month was extremely cathartic, and I think that's when I finally let it go.

I don't feel such a great loss right now. Yes, it would have been lovely to hear Goerne, but it could have been worse. And I've got the whole evening to work, so I'll make the most of it. As Beckett's Winnie would say, "Great mercies."