Thursday, November 30, 2006

City and the Country

Being home for Thanksgiving last week in the beautiful Hudson Valley reminded me of how important it is for me to have beautiful scenery around. Something about being up there (mom's home cooking, seeing my oldest friends, the lovely Catskill and Shawangunk mountains?) at this time of year always makes me feel refreshed and ready to tackle the craziness that is December as a freelance singer. However, the equation of Christmas Craziness = Cash is always a nice booster...

I was reminded the other day why I really like living in a large city. A lot of people have heard me whine about the scarcity of British goods (tea, chocolate, those British baked beans) in the U.S. As luck would have it, I randomly came upon a small convenience store that advertised "Irish Goods". Curosity piqued, I went into this seemingly run-of-the-mill convenience store only to discover PG Tips tea, Galaxy chocolate bars, McVitie's biscuits and Batchelor beans! (somewhat overpriced, of course) It's nice to know that when I get a midnight craving for some HobNobs, I now have got somewhere to go.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Rossini everywhere!

There was a lot of talk in the blogosphere about the Met’s Barbiere production making a cameo on Letterman the other week. Since I did not see it, I am not qualified to give an opinion (If anyone can find a link online to a video clip, it would be much appreciated). It seems as if the appearance was a bit disappointing and kind of a "park and bark" approach. I think some of the trouble was the choice of material. The Act I finale of Barbiere does have verve and humour when put in context. It’s one of those Rossini moments where everything has been going crazy and then time sort of stops and each character is stunned. However, taken out of context we don’t really get to see how these characters got to this point. We haven’t made an emotional investment in any of them or their situations. Also the Met production is a period affair, which probably is lovely in the opera house, but on a late-night talk show probably comes across as stereotypical ‘Opera’. See Greg Sandow’s more in depth play-by-play account of the night.

Something that might have worked a bit better is AVA’s modern dress production running now in Philadelphia. Or even better still (plug alert...) would have been Opera Philly’s 'I Love Lucy'-style Cenerentola. This production is chock-full of talented young singers moving, singing and acting well in delightful 1950's costumes (And that male voice chorus is top notch!). Above the stripy black-and-white stage are three projection screens which sometimes show the internal thoughts of the characters or act as additional backdrop pieces. A lot of the movement is done in response to the music which emphasizes the rhythmic motor that pervades Rossini. The production is somewhat outlandish and cartoonish at times, but the integrity of the music and story is honoured. Besides, it's the Cinderella story and there is a lot of room for interpretation. All of this adds up to an entertaining performance from top-to-bottom which is attractive to the diverse sensibilities of the modern audience.

Everyone I've talked to who has seen it has had good things to say about it. In fact, perhaps the best audience response I've ever witnessed was the dress rehearsal audience of local school kids. When the lovely Ruxandra Donose came out for her bow as Cenerentola, I felt as if I was at a Kelly Clarkson concert or something. The kids just loved it. And this was even with two principals marking due to illness. So, if you happen to be in the Philly area this weekend, come!

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Fanning the flames, putting my foot in my mouth, etc.

See the welcome comment from Tempesta di Mare co-founder Richard Stone on the post below.
Looks like I published without fully looking into the situation...
I still stand by the main point of my last few posts and was basically looking to start a discussion about early music in America and more specifically Philadelphia.