Help! Kiri Te Kanawa interview on SIRIUS tonight (and other things)

Does anyone know where I can find a recording of the Kiri Te Kanawa interview that took place during the first intermission of Die Walküre tonight on Sirius? I would really appreciate it!

I haven't made time for blogging lately (couldn't you tell?), but maybe I'll get back to it. Funny, when I have time to do it, I have nothing to report.

One thing I will say - Karita Mattila was outstanding in Sibelius's Luonnotar at Carnegie Hall on Saturday night. She used every ounce of her resources. It was a stunning thing to witness.

I had been eager to hear Saariaho's Mirage, but it disappointed me.

I've been attending Cycle I of the Ring at the Met, and I've seen a few other productions this season. Lots of stuff that's new to me - Thaïs (well first stage production I've seen), Il Trovatore, Adriana Lecouvreur (loved it! was surprised that I like it so much), and The Nose (here in Boston).

On Friday, went to Ian Bostridge's Boston recital. Had been eager to hear him live. It's was an all-Schubert program, which isn't such a great thing. He was born to sing Handel, Mozart, Britten, and mélodies - I don't love his Schubert. Still, it was a pleasure to hear him sing those 24 lovely songs.

Final thing to mention before I close this - went on a Patron Backstage Tour of the Met on Saturday. That was so cool. It was quite something to stand on the stage of the Met, and even to walk a bit on the staging of L'elisir d'amore, seeing the auditorium as the performers do. And I caressed the gold curtain.

UPDATE:

Wanted to add: there might be a revival of Thaïs, which would be lovely of course - but, if Renée Fleming is to do another revival, I would rather see a return of Rusalka. I caught the matinee performance last month - I'd last seen this production five years ago, and it was even more beautiful this time around. It's a shame that this gorgeous production, with a first-rate cast, was not captured on DVD. There's definitely a need for such a recording - please, I hope the Met will bring it back as an HD presentation. Really, that final scene, where Rusalka walks on water, is one of the most beautiful things I've seen anywhere.

Also, saw the second preview of Waiting for Godot. I won't go into details - loved the staging, and the acting - it seemed, though, that the actors were still feeling their way around. I look forward to catching another performance or two later in the run.

Caught 33 Variations as well. Wit and Proof have similar themes and are, I might say, masterpieces. I wouldn't say the same of this one. Jane Fonda's performance, however, is something worth seeing. It's Jane Fonda! And I loved her in this part..

"Let's kick ass!"

So that's what Karita Mattila says before every show. I love it!

Deborah Voigt briefly interviewed Mattila for the opening of today's Live in HD presentation of Salome. I saw last Saturday's performance from a fabulous Grand Tier Box, and it was interesting to revisit the production in a Boston cinema. It worked much better in the house - I don't think the close-ups were flattering to Mattila. At the Met, her energy fills the entire space of the auditorium, such that, at times, it seems as if the walls could barely contain her. On the screen, we see a woman who, in fact, doesn't quite look the part.

The final scene, however, translated beautifully, partly because the camera angles gave a more accurate sense of what it's like to experience this performance in the house.

Not My Typical Ovation Shot

I stopped posting the good ones on here anyway (I'm selfish - though I do share them with Facebook friends) - but I think this is a pretty great one, given the conditions under which it was taken. I was so far away! :)

Could I just say that Mike Silverman from the Associated Press shouldn't have been allowed in the Met tonight? Because clearly he spent the evening with his head up his ass, as this review shows. It's no secret that I'm a fan of Renée's - I have a great deal of respect and admiration for her as an artist and human being. But even so, I think he probably just wasn't in a good mood tonight? I mean, I'm aware of Renée's weaknesses, but she was in great form tonight, vocally and dramatically.

I think it says a lot that I was moved just a few minutes into the performance. Really. Renée portrays Violetta as a woman of great honor (she's said in recent interviews that Violetta has more integrity than any other character in the opera), and the noble sweetness that she brings to Dite alla giovine is almost unbearably touching. That scene is critical because, just as the first act tests her capacity to love, the first scene of the second act tests the quality and strength of that love. Her rapturous Amami, Alfredo! is a powerful moment because this is not "brb" (as she lies to Alfredo), but rather, "Good-by - because, I love you," as Kate Chopin so eloquently put it. This is all in the score and in the libretto, but you know what's great? Renée gets it.

The first time I heard her live, in a Fort Lauderdale recital in January 2000, what struck me the most was her intelligence. She was beautiful then but not as glamorous as she is now. Her voice was beautiful but the terrible sound in that hall didn't allow its true timbre to shine. Her stage presence was somewhat reserved; she was not as chatty as she is now - with the best stage banter in the classical music business. What came through were the workings of that prodigious mind. If the composer provided a gem, she polished it into brilliance with her keen intelligence.

As revealed in interviews (on the Met's site and during the Live in HD), Renée is fully aware of the intertexuality of Manon Lescaut and La Dame aux Camélias (btw, that the sonnet in Capriccio was actually written by none other than Ronsard completes the trio of French literary sources in tonight's gala). We need more singers who are aware of of the literary history of the works they sing, because they were created in and for a culture of people who appreciated these resonances. Think of the Lucia scene in Madame Bovary and the ways in which hearing that opera opens a floodgate of memories for Emma - of her past as a reader of the Walter Scott text, of the disconnect between her dreams and her reality, of the girl she used to be and the woman she is now...that spellbinding scene of tension and opposition is rendered all the more powerful because of these layers of meaning. And this is the sort of depth that I witness in every Renée Fleming performance.

She's now one of the lyric stage's finest actresses - this became clear to me upon observing roles she's repeated after a long gap. Her 2007 Met Violetta was worlds apart from her 2003 Houston version, and her 2007 Zurich Arabella revealed countless nuances that were absent from her 2001 Met outing in the part. The Met's opening night gala tonight allowed her to revisit scenes from roles on which she's made her mark - and it was fascinating to watch a great artist as she explores new territory on familiar ground. A little laugh here, a new ornament there - there's always something new when you attend a Renée Fleming performance. She has said that she wants us to forget that she's singing - and when she's at her best, this does happen, in an odd way, because we're so involved with the characters.

On to some other stuff. We arrived at the cinema at 5pm and I asked the staff whether there might be a line for the Met simulcast. I was told that it's "over there," and that it's "already big." I headed over and, I swear there were some 30 people already waiting there. And boy were they scary! This crowd was not unlike the audience at the Met Guild events. They get there way early and they will totally kill you if you get in their way. (We call them "Old Bitches.") My friend went to get coffee across the street and I frantically texted her to return, as I feared for my life.

They were pretty well-behaved during the show, so that's good, because I'm seeing 10 more of these simulcasts at this cinema.

How cool was it to see Nico Muhly!? I'm such a fan. Buy his CDs! (Btw, he's currently my favorite blogger.) His concert here at the Museum of Fine Arts last month, with Sam Amidon and Doveman, was one of the musical highlights of the year. Susan Graham is a smart lady and it's unfortunate that she wasted their interview time asking him those "what's your favorite color" questions - there's so much one could ask him! I will definitely want to be at the opening night of his opera - that's something I'm dying to witness.

It was also cool to see Rufus Wainwright make faces at the camera during Graham's interview with Martha Stewart. Haha! By the way, what's the name of the liqueur that Stewart used in her Grande Dame cocktail? I missed that. Rufus distracted me. (Btw, Sarah wonderfully documented parts of our experience a couple weeks ago at the Apollo with Renée Fleming, Rufus Wainwright and Elvis Costello.)

The last thing I have time to say (I'm falling asleep) is that it's sometimes overwhelming to experience opera on the big screen - opera, as it is, is larger than life (as Francesco Clemente suggested of divas), and seeing this stuff on that giant screen can be really intense. In a good way. I'm with Ann Patchett on this - I'm a huge fan of Live in HD. I love the backstage access and the interviews - which, by the way, were so well-produced tonight. Sure, we didn't hear Graham for the first minute or so, but they fixed it. Same with the subtitles (fortunately I know that scene so well..).

And I just heard about MetPlayer, which sounds wonderfully convenient (and it's nice if you have a huge monitor and great speakers or headphones).

This is a great time to be an opera buff! Best wishes for an awesome season.

UPDATE: The Met posted Martha's cocktail recipe here

I'm coming back

Yeah, I really am.

So Classy

Check this out:



I saw it on TV last night. Anyone know the music? I don't recognize it.

UPDATE: OK, so it's "Stride la vampa" from Trovatore

In other news - I have an extra ticket to Chris Botti's concert here in Boston on Friday. He's performing with the Boston Pops under Keith Lockhart, and special guests are Sting, Steven Tyler and Yo-Yo Ma. Surprise guests are anticipated as well.

I messed up - I meant to buy a ticket for Thursday's concert, but selected the wrong date. On Friday I'm seeing Sigur Rós.

Beckett Marathon at Lincoln Center - Who needs a ticket?

So, I will return to this blog - in the meantime, I'm wondering if anyone needs a ticket for the Beckett marathon at Lincoln Center on Sunday the 27th. I have an extra one! Just shoot me an email.

UPDATE: The ticket's spoken for. :)

March

I didn't blog on it, but I had quite an eventful March. I did make it to the last Otello at the Met, and the following weekend I was in Boca Raton for two events at Festival of the Arts Boca: a conversation between Renée Fleming and Ann Patchett, and Fleming's concert, which closed the festival. I reported on the events elsewhere; maybe I'll drag that stuff over here at some point. I had an amazing time, attending VIP receptions and talking to some awesome people.

My calendar is clear for the immediate future, as teaching and preparing for my general exam have me very preoccupied. The only thing I have scheduled is Margaret Cho's show in Boston tonight. I hope she'll be funny.

David Pogue on Blog Comments

The quality of discussion on Pogue's Posts is just astonishing. An assistant and I moderate the comments (which sometimes run into the hundreds for a single post), removing comments containing spam or obscenities. But otherwise, we approve every single comment. And the humor, wisdom and good nature on display is just amazing. If you compared these comments with the unmoderated ones on, say, YouTube, you would assume these were forums patronized by completely different species.

Bummer, pt. 4

Had a ticket to Saturday's matinée of Otello at the Met with Johan Botha and Renée Fleming. Canceled the trip because I've been sick for a few weeks--it hasn't let up--and a round-trip trek to New York in crappy weather is not what I need right now.

Called the Met to have the ticket reprinted and left in a friend's name. If all goes well, I'll see this production on its last night a week from today.

Change

Want to know how things have changed?

I have, somewhere in my condo, two front-row-center tickets to Kiri Te Kanawa's recital in Palm Beach. The event took place last night. I was in Cambridge, Mass.

Yesterday was the first day of Spring semester classes, and I was asked to be here for a course I am co-teaching. What's more, in the afternoon I met with my advisor and spent a wonderful hour discussing my next few years at this glorious university.

I don't regret having missed Kiri's recital. This from someone who used to say that the worst thing to happen in his life was oversleeping in his hotel room and missing Karita Mattila's recital in Paris...

I still attend performances. Recently: an exquisite recital by David Daniels at Jordan Hall; the first preview of Sunday in the Park with George at Studio 54; Deborah Warner's stunning production of Beckett's Happy Days at BAM, starring the extraordinary Fiona Shaw (bonus: spotted Kathleen Turner in the lobby); and the MET Chamber Ensemble's gratifying Webern/Berg/Schoenberg program with James Levine conducting and on piano, joined by Gil Shaham, Yefim Bronfman and the unstoppable Anja Silja, who looked as elegant as ever, and who, in delivering those grotesque lines, never failed to make us shiver to our bones.

Iphigénie en Tauride at the Met

"World indoor premiere" of Golijov's Azul with Yo-Yo Ma; Bummer, pt. 3

Here is where I'll write on my bounty of Yo-Yo Ma encounters, if I get a chance.

Bummer update: on Saturday, I missed Iphigénie at the Met - for which I was to be seated in Parterre Box 1 - to attend an all-day conference at Harvard. It was absolutely worth it this time, however! I'm going to try to make it to the Met for Friday's performance. Anyone have a ticket?

BSO, James Levine, and Renee Fleming perform new Henri Dutilleux and rare orchestrated Duparc

Last night, the Boston Symphony Orchestra under James Levine performed the American premiere of Henri Dutilleux's Le temps l'horloge, a group of three songs featuring soloist Renee Fleming. When the nine-minute cycle ended, Fleming shielded her eyes from the bright stage lights and searched for M. Dutilleux in the crowd. The 91-year-old composer, seated in the orchestra's center aisle, about a dozen rows back, slowly stood up and, with the aid of a cane, proceeded to make his way to the stage. The audience, witnessing the frail figure of a venerable man, rose to its feet and bathed him in cheers and applause.

At this afternoon's performance, the same thing happened, but this time I got it on video.

More commentary to come.



[Note: Last night, Fleming wore her green Dior mermaid gown, but this afternoon she wore something different, with different earrings, no Rolex, and the large ring was on her left hand, not her right. Yes, the fashion report is crucial.]

UPDATE: I'll also report on the amazing experience of the Silk Road Ensemble's performance of member Jonathan Ganelsman's arrangement of Hajibeyov's Layla and Majnun.

UPDATE - (Sunday, December 2, 1:16pm):
So, it's now Sunday. I was lucky enough to attend all three concerts of the Berlioz/Dutilleux/Duparc/Debussy program. Here are some observations.

The program was too long. At the first concert, I noted that there were some magical moments in the Berlioz (about 45 minutes of orchestral excerpts from Romeo et Juliette, which I saw complete at the BSO three years ago with Lorraine Hunt Lieberson and Matthew Polenzani), but it was just too long for a program whose raison d'etre was the American premiere of a new work by a revered composer, who wrote the piece for The Diva. I mean, 45 minutes of Berlioz followed by 9 minutes of Dutilleux? What gives? I skipped the Berlioz at the second concert, but decided to give it another try at the third concert. Sure enough, having heard the vocal pieces twice already, I was still as excited as ever but the anticipation wasn't unbearable, so I did very much enjoy the Berlioz. The love scene is so tender, so quiet, the theme very simple, with a limpid quality that the orchestra realized so gently and lovingly.

Renee did the right thing in switching to a black dress with gloves for the second and third concerts. I didn't think the green Dior was right for this program. :)

She was in splendid voice throughout. The seamless legato was there, as was the trademark creamy tone. The first song, "Le Temps l'horloge," has a start-and-stop rhythm that reflects the text, which contrasts the seen and unseen passing of time. Time is "seen" when it passes in the clock; otherwise, it passes "among [in] us noiselessly / like a thief in the night." The piece ends with a magical rising flourish and just disappears - it's brilliant. In his pre-concert talk on Thursday Mark Mandel said the song evaporates into space and time.

The second song, "Le masque," sketches the strange, vague "Visage" of a mask. Renee tells the story and it's kind of creepy and mysterious. In the program notes Thomas May observes, "The vocal line's wide-ranging intervals seem palpably to trace the object" (59). We get a vague, broad sense of what this thing is, but we have only an outline. On the last line, there's a huge interval on "cristaux," and on the second syllable Renee's voice sounds exactly like crystals.

The third song, "Le dernier poeme," is very sad. The poem is only about eight short lines long, but the word "shadow" appears six times. The music is appropriately shadowy; it's a quiet lament.

Hearing orchestrated Duparc songs is a rare pleasure. Hearing Renee sing "L'invitation au voyage" and "Extase" is a highlight of my concert-going life thus far. We all knows these songs; just imagine them sung to perfection.

Renee's French throughout was superb. I should note, however, that she has a tendency to paraphrase or change words, which is normal, though distracting for those who know the texts. It's funny because speaking a language probably makes it easier to confuse words. :)

La Mer was beautifully sketched. And Levine really loves to highlight the Wagner in anything. Fine by me.

Thursday concert was festive; Friday's was happy (lots of smiles from Renee and Levine); and Saturday's was somber. Last night Renee brought out the sadness and longing in the texts. Those attending the New York concert tomorrow, please get in touch with me with your thoughts.

Bummer, pt. 2

So, the NEC basically sucks. Don't [] announce that you're hosting a Renee Fleming master class that's open to the public and then turn around and [] restrict it to your "students, staff, faculty and board members." Sometimes events at my institution (Harvard) are restricted to ID-holders, and that practice is perfectly understandable. But really, don't tell people they're invited to the party and then turn around and uninvite them. []

Meanwhile, this afternoon I attended instead a soporific lecture at Harvard's New College Theater; the event was, however, saved by the glorious Silk Road Ensemble, led by Yo-Yo Ma. The group--currently in residence at Harvard--is rehearsing a chamber version of the 1908 opera Layla and Manjun by Uzeyir Hajibeyov, from Azerbaijan. We heard just a brief excerpt, and we were absolutely floored. The two vocalists, Alim Qasimov and his daughter Fargana Qasimova, closed their eyes and delivered some of the most awe-inspiring singing I have ever heard. I don't have a ticket but I am surely going to make every effort to work my way into the audience for Friday's free "work-in-progress" performance of the Ensemble's arrangement of the full opera.

Bummer

I'm about to call the Met to donate my parterre ticket to this afternoon's Madama Butterfly at the Met - its last performance this season. I just have too much work. :(

The Wallflowers at the Somerville Theater in Davis Square

1) Jakob Dylan is an extremely good-looking man. This should be mentioned more often.

2) I hate drunk people.

SET LIST (with my binoculars I could read it pretty clearly):

Shy of the Moon
Building
6th Avenue
Passenger
-------
Hand Me Down
Mourning Train
Delivered
Up from Under
God Says Nothing Back
God Don't Make Lonely Girls
Witness
-------
Wasteland
Sick
Closer to You
Nearly Beloved
Everybody out of the Water
--------
Baby Bird
3 Marlenas
Everything I Need

SOMERVILLE THEATER, SOMERVILLE, MA
OCTOBER 31

'Nuff Said: Golijov's Ainadamar in Boston

Following today's matinee performance at the Cutler Majestic, there was an "Artist Talkback" moderated by Richard Dyer. To close, he asked of the four-person panel, "Can art save the world?" Dawn Upshaw eagerly gestured for the microphone and simply answered, "Yes." And that was that.

Today's performance reminded me of the first time I saw Brokeback Mountain. I had read Annie Proulx's story, which moved me immensely, and I thought the film was beautiful, but it also left me cold. I didn't shed a tear. But on the walk home, I realized, as I approached my building, that a massive pool of emotion had been quietly accumulating during the film.

The metaphor serves Ainadamar well, not in the least because the title means "Fountain of Tears." Tears were shed during the performance, but the work ends quietly, almost soothingly. No crashing fortissimo chords. It just fades, folding into memory.

And then there's the walk home.

I have more thoughts to share - I have to head to Somerville Theater for The Wallflowers...

Tori Amos in Boston

So, after Kiri's beautifully sung and extraordinarily satisfying recital on Sunday, I thought I'd be pretty bored at Tori Amos's concert - especially since I found her Paris stop on this tour to be a snooze (she was extremely subdued that night), ditto recent TV appearances (Leno a couple weeks ago). The new album has a silly concept (four characters that are not Tori, and their names come from Greek goddesses and it's all very kitschy).

On this tour, Tori starts "Act I" as one of the four characters that are not Tori, and changes into her Tori costume for the rest of the show. It's sorta interesting in a performative sense (think Judith Butler), but, eh. I went to the fourth show on the tour, in Paris, and there Tori debuted Clyde, the fourth character she presented. Tonight in Boston, it was Clyde again.

I wasn't disappointed to see the same character, for two reasons. One, Clyde's makeup and wig suit Tori extremely well - she looked lovely. Two, Clyde has some nice songs, and "Bouncing Off of Clouds" is a killer opening number.

The voice was a bit weak in this song, her current single, but it was out in full force for the rest of the show, starting with "Little Earthquakes." Tori uses both chest and head extensively - she spends much time in her gravel-toned lower register, and for special moments she soars into a shimmering soprano realm, often above the staff. In "Little Earthquakes," she dazzled with her coloratura runs near the end. "Sugar" (!), "Northern Lad", and the closing number, "Hey Jupiter" (Dakota version), all featured extended passages that allowed her to shine vocally. It's a classical sound, very unusual in rock/alternative music, and Tori exploits it extremely well.

Her phrasing is never careless. She means the text. The gorgeous lyrical interlude of "Space Dog" tugged at the heart strings, and "Merman" made me cry. There was another song I did not recognize - perhaps an improv (she does an improv at each of the shows on this tour, and she did one tonight on border-crossing, but this isn't the song I'm referring to) - that was the most moving thing I had ever heard her song. Something about a well and having an ocean to swim in. I thought it might be dedicated to her niece, who was in the audience. She said her niece called her a "MILF" and keeps her "fucking hot" (Tori touched her ass and made a sizzling noise).

I haven't even mentioned her keyboard-playing. She had a Boesendorfer grand piano (as always) as well as an organ and a keyboard. Many times she straddled her piano bench, her left hand working the piano, her right hand on the organ or keyboard. At the opening of "Bells for Her," her mic had come undone at the back, and she kept playing like this, at times trying to fix it with one hand, until she gave a cut throat signal to a stage hand who came to fix her mic pack as she continued playing. Once her mic has been fixed, she began singing as if nothing had happened. Can we say ambidextrous?

There was much impressive playing, but "Cornflake Girl" contains some of the most awe-inspiring and virtuosic passagework you'll ever see at a rock concert.

Tonight was special. It was good to see Tori perform another great show - the Paris show this year was the only disappointing one I have seen, and that may be because just two years earlier I'd heard her solo (where she's best - the current tour is with her band) at four amazingly moving concerts.

Kiri Te Kanawa in Boston

Kiri is an impossible 63 and her voice is as beautiful as ever, her technique just as flawless, her cool elegance just as cool and elegant.

I feel incredibly lucky to have heard the perfect "Morgen!".

Click here for the revised program. I was delighted to hear the two Puccini arias, and Kiri's vamping during the Ginastera number (and her sensuous, idomatic command of Poulenc) suggested that she would make an awesome cabaret singer.

Kiri will always be remembered for her crisp diction, ineffably beautiful voice, and gorgeous stage presence.

When a fly threatened to upstage her [brb]

Drew Faust's Inauguration at Harvard

So, we have a new president. At the inauguration, the use of African and Indian music was very welcome, and Simon Estes gave a beautiful rendition of "Amazing Grace." I enjoyed watching Toni Morrison on the stage. People don't talk about this enough, but her preternaturally striking and unforgettable face, like Beckett's, is as interesting as her prodigious oeuvre. I missed her reading yesterday, but of course I was there at the Louvre about a year ago, where she first read from the novel she's currently writing (still "very, very, very much in progress").

Faust delivered a well-written [brb]