Charlotte Church left a big announcement on her blog earlier today.
This is the second pregnancy for Charlotte Church, 22. Nine months ago, she gave birth to her first daughter, Ruby Megan Henson. Church is partnered with Gavin Henson, her Welsh rugby star boyfriend.
To spice up their Tosca opening tonight, Los Angeles Opera has obtained the jewelry worn by Maria Callas in 1956 for her Metropolitan Opera debut as Tosca.
It's a blinding, sparkling, kicka$$ monstah of 200 tear-shaped Swarovski crystals, by Atelier Marangoni in Milan,
Italy, and it'll appear over Adrianne Pieczonka's lucky bewbs.
(foto above, Metropolitan Opera Archives)
Bewbs miracolously under control, and rawking some really, really fine Vivienne Westwood,
Katherine Jenkins @ the TV BAFTA Awards looking really pretty -- let's be fair here -- last night in London.
To keep things in perspective, and oldie but goldie image of La Jenkins and La Church, aka The Battle Of The Bewbs (with oversize football used by Brits for a mysterious ancient game, like a pre-NFL pastime of Britannia's Barbarian populations).
Opera Chic loves the German papers because, unlike most American ones, they seem to operate under the assumption that "classical music" isn't a cuss word and concerts and the opera aren't just pastimes for the morons who don't appreciate a nice night sitting in front of the TV watching reruns of American TV shows (or even worse, reruns of non-American TV shows).
But the usually rational German press -- and frankly, a lot of Germans, too, apprently -- seems to have lost its collective head over the fact that the Chancellor has breasts (old superfat Helmut Kohl's man bewbs don't count, we assume), as she demonstrated a few days ago at the inauguration of Oslo's opera house.
Days after the Angela Merkel Oslo "incident", where by "incident" one means "went to the opera with a dress, not with a burqa), the debate in the press rages on.
You have the podcasts (the last resort of the desperate, more often than not).
You have the funny guy in Stern who must have watched some dubbed MTV: "P1mp My Dress".
Merkel herself had to actually talk to the media today to try and stop to the circus:
"In any event, there certainly wouldn't be a discussion like this with a man".
Heh.
(Not that anybody would even want to discuss the bulge in former Chancellor Gerhard Schroeder's pants, frankly). OC of all people understands the appeal of bewbs -- she even inaugurated her blog a year and a half ago posting about Mozart's bewbs. Our unofficial motto is "Viva Le Bewbs".
But this Merkel thing is getting silly now.
Opera Chic's advice to Angela: just flash them.
Really.
They're all fourteen year olds, deep inside, these press dudes. And like fourteen year olds they'll all blush, run away, and then we'll all finally be able to move on.
Unlike some of his fellow countrymen who did indeed object to the sudden discovery of Chancellor Angela Merkel's ownership of a pair of breasts, that she suddendly displayed in Oslo creating a bit of a media stir, the powerful Bavarian Governor voted "aye" for bewbs, and more powah to him for that.
Günther Beckstein has spoken in favor of Angela Merkel's powerful display of (o) (o) the other night at Oslo's opera (to examine Opera Chic's previous post click here, with in-depth analysis and photographic evidence). Herr Doktor Beckstein was "pleased" by Merkel's outfit, because "we in Bavaria appreciate joie de vivre, I have no objections at all".
And with this we hope the proverbial tempest in a D-cup is finally over.
Last December 7, when we saw Angela Merkel at la Scala's premiere of Tristan, she was dressed more conservatively; the other night in Oslo, though, at the inauguration of the new opera house we blogged about last week, Big Angela chose to flaunt some serious bewbage: in the AFP photo above, Norwegian Prime Minister Jens Stoltenberg with Scandinavian coolness manages not to ogle while La Merkel shows the operagoing Oslo peeps some serious Teutonic strength.
It's indeed obvious that Otto von Bismarck never would have done this. Thankfully, we add.
The German papers we skinned online this morning seem to be at the very least ambivalent. La Angela is rightly baffled. Unlike the Puritanical German press, as a pro-opera, pro-women, pro-bewbs blog, we happily endorse the new l00k.
Now she just needs to lose the bowl cut and we're defintely getting somewhere.
Pop-up picture below for the more scientifically minded readers:
Not that anybody cares at this point, but, bewbs aside, the main operatic attraction at the inauguration was Maria Guleghina:
(above: Maestro Lorin Maazel and the soloists from the Saturday, March 8, 2008 Beethoven Cycle)
Just back in after a night of Beethoven's Ninth courtesy of Maestro Kim-Jong Maazel @ Milan's Teatro degli Arcimboldi with Symphonica Toscanini and the chorus of Maggio Musicale Fiorentino (Piero Monti, maestro del Coro). Here are just a few impressions before the full review coming hopefully tomorrow.
(above: the exterior of Teatro degli Arcimboldi)
OC had been sorely disappointed by Maazel's Traviata last summer at la Scala, an unfortunate event plagued by shoddy conducting and by Angela Gheorghiu. But OC, even if it's very fashionable back in NYC, has never really chugged the Maazel Haterade; certainly not the warmest of conductors, Maazel nevertheless has very deep knowledge, the clarity and economy of his gesture is so elegant that he always leaves us speechless, and, to quote ourselves because it's late at night here and we're tipsy on post-performance Château d'Yquem, "a good 90 percent of people put in charge of orchestras nowadays would be well served by watching a few DVDs of Maazel in the quiet of their home and just, you know, pay attention to all the things that Maazel knows and they don't".
Anyway, to get immediately rid of the stuff we didn't like:
--> Maazel, unlike his orchestra -- everybody impeccable in white tie and tails -- showed up in a weirdy double-breasted tuxedo -- no tails, obviously -- and no tie at all and, especially, a pair of icky black shoes with thick rubber soles, the kind of shoes you see midlevel managers of second rate insurance companies wear on the LIRR when the weather's bad. We know the man is in his golden years, but if we can manage to strap on a pair of Gucci 7" velvet-printed platforms for the evening, he can equally compromise. The good news is that he at least got rid of the inexplicable mullet he sometimes favors.
--> Soprano Maria Luigia Borsi chose an unflattering cappuccino-colored dress with a downright bizarre fur stole (raccoon? Lordy, lordy). Her hair, greasy and unwashed, looked even worse than that shameless Spears girl who runs around Hollywood without panties. For somebody who already sang at la Scala, la Fenice, Torre del Lago, and the Opernhaus in Zurich, she should know better than look like Britney's older [opera-singing] sister.
--> Young Russian mezzo Anna Smirnova -- she'll be Princess Eboli this December 7th @ la Scala in Don Carlos under Daniele Gatti's baton so more than a few eyes were on her tonight -- showed up in a very tight (frankly, too tight for her) rubbery black dress with a dominatrix theme, and with an impossibly cantilevered (already quite massive) decolletage that made most people in the audience -- we could read it on their faces -- think "OMG b00bs!".
What about the performance itself, you ask? It'll be mostly the subject of our full review, coming soon, but suffice to say that Maazel chose deliberate tempi and very cool -- and, yes, somewhat restrained -- phrasing (one does not listen to Maazel for the big Lenny moments of unabashed emotion, right?). The only exception came in the 4th movement during the Turkish March, when he picked up pulse very fast, and kind of left poor Robert Dean Smith, the American tenor for the night, trying to chase the orchestra as Maazel mercilessly glanced at the poor man who, by the end of his part (sang quite well despite all) looked positively pink-faced (but gleefully giddy) with exertion.
(above: Maazel thanks the orchestra)
Barely awake after partyin' all nite & damaging a fine reserve of vintage bubbly, OC watched live on ZDF a sizable slice of Maestro Pretre's not-so-fresh Sachertorte, the New Year's Concert from Vienna (we love GP, he's like a kindly grandpappy, and he almost always moves us: not today, tho, too weak, too flat -- in the last few years other conductors such as Jansons and Mehta have rawked Strauss much MUCH harder). OC then tuned her big shiny plasma to RaiUno, that had decided instead to broadcast live from la Fenice in Venice the Italian version of Vienna's classic new year's extravaganza.
The first part of the concert (Luisa Miller: Sinfonia; I vespri siciliani: Le quattro stagioni
Inverno, Primavera, Estate, Autunno) has been ruthlessly killed by Rai's powahs because the Pope was simultaneously giving a ginormous speech in Rome and Italy's most popular channel was totally whalin' on that, because if you'd rather listen to an old cranky Italian (Verdi) than an old cranky German (the Pope) you'll make the Baby Jesus cry; after the Pope hath spawken, finally, they managed to beam, live, the images and sound from Venice for the second part of the concert: a mashup of Italian opera arias and the inevitable Va' Pensiero. (not exactly the happiest sound to welcome the new years, but whatevs).
Maestro Roberto Abbado -- who hadn't chosen personally the program for the second part of the concert but had to execute a RAI-made list of blockbuster tunes, as he managed to wisely let know to Corriere della Sera's a few days ago -- managed to make lemonade out of those state-TV lemons, showing us once again what a fine, fine, elegant, underrated conductor he really is.
The singers: a juicy Barbara Frittoli who flaunted some exquisite colors, a massive bewbétage and, we're frank because we *heart* her, a dangerously sagging neckline (at the very least, she needs to be lighted very differently; Dr. 90210 can come to the rescue too); il maestro Ferruccio Furlanetto who shook the Fenice's recently rebuilt walls with the raw powah of his bass-baritone; and Marcello Giordani's last-minute replacement, il signor Walter Fraccaro -- Alagna's doppelganger for Zeffirelli's unlucky Aida of December '06 at la Scala -- who was just happy that Alagna was nowhere to be seen. Sadly, Alagna would have totally eaten WF's lunch, and we're not sayin' much here, are we.
As we said above, Abbado's beautiful phrasing managed not to drown Va' Pensiero in the usual sea of corniness, kept Libiamo's band-like waves of sound within the limits of the acceptable, and even Aida's Marcia Trionfale (photo above) was elegantly shaped by the Milanese maestro. Who gets a bonus because he didn't show up, like many conductors lazily choose to do, in white tie for a morning concert. Avoiding the stuffy classic morning suit, he opted for a beautiful midnite blue suit with simple white shirt and pearl gray tie, an OC rating of A. Very nice also the natural gray of the maestro's hair.
Abbado's hand clasping Frittoli's for the post-concert applause:
New Year bonus for our readers: a closeup of la signora Frittoli's impressive cleavage. No n1pple slip, mebbe next year! Rawk on 2(.)(.)8
Since Luciano Pavarotti died, Opera Chic has been receiving a fair amount of email asking basically the same question: why is it that Pavarotti was the last of the great Italian tenors, and now Italian opera is all about Peruvian, or Mexican, or Argentinian tenors? Why is it, they ask, that the Italians are getting pwnZrd at their own game? Whare r the great Italian tenors, they ask?
OC's verdict is, ahem, no qway Kosay. Because maybe it is true that, as Juan Diego Florez usually says, there must be something in the Peruvian tap water that works some strange magic for tenors -- and that magic water does seem to have gotten scarce in Italy's aqueducts.
But dissing the Italian singers doesn't really cut it -- because even if it is true that, for example, recently, Italy's biggest hope circa 2000-2003 -- Salvatore Licitra -- has turned out to be not as awesome as we all thought/hoped he'd become, and we all know about Roberto Alagna's troubles in recent years -- RA comes from a family of Italian immigrants to France, and he's more Franco-Italian, technically, and his best repertoire is French opera, even if his youthful Alfredo at la Scala under Muti is still a joy to listen to -- but despite Licitra's and Alagna's problems Opera Chic thinks that hope is on the way.
Because not only there are excellent singers who are becoming better known -- such as Giuseppe Filianoti, 32, who has a brilliant future ahead if he carries himself better than other less professional contemporaries -- and, we have to say, we're impressed by Vittorio Grigolo, whose talent is definitely there but who risks to follow the dangerous sirens of crossover big buck$ toward the abyss of crapstatic artistic achievement. If Filianoti keeps studying and takes good care of his voice, and if Grigolo tones down the Orlando Bloom-ish photo shoots and the "popera" stuff -- how barfogenic are his side projects, fo' reals -- the glory is just there, gleaming in the distance.
And Filianoti studied with Carlo Bergonzi, Grigolo with Pavarotti: they certainly had the best teachers, it's up to them now -- the future can be theirs.
But history is now, and Italy already has a tenor with a gigantisaurous voice, a beautiful timbre, impeccable professional credentials and intense acting skillz.
You may not hear his name a lot because by all accounts -- OC has never had the pleasure to meet him -- he is a shy, private man who'd rather spend his work hours rehearsing and studying, and his free time with family (and we hear that -- he's a native Genoan -- he cooks a mean linguine al pesto); averse to the pimptastic media system that often builds hype where there is very little voice to support such hype, he nevertheless sings the Italian repertorio with talent, passion, and class in many of the most important opera houses around the world (Vienna Staatsoper, Scala, Liceu, Met, Covent Garden, San Carlo di Napoli, Regio di Parma).
But then, he can afford to avoid the pitfalls of the hype machine.
Because Fabio Armiliato, heir to the greatest lineage of Italian opera tenors, has this voice *
No wonder he gets this kind of reaction from audiences as musical as the Liceu's (where he is appearing next week, by the way, in Andrea Chenier).
* and we ride in a LOLs Royce every time we see this video's ending, because Gergiev as always loses his peWp and goes full blasts drowning poor Armiliato, Val just can't avoid it, the baton is like a sledgehammer for him sometimes, but the Baden-Baden Festspielhaus's audience drowns Gergiev back, with a thunder of applause, all for Fabio.
Here's another interesting image from the Netrebko/Villazon hawt
hawt production of Manon. Much more on Angela -- because you know you want it -- coming l8r.
vvvvv xtra bonus vvvvv
Watch Villazón get tickled!
Reader Donna Anna sent us the YouTube link to an (edited) montage of the LA Opera Manon where you can see Netrebko in axxxion. At 1:52 minutes in, Anna starts working the pole. @_@
Opera Chic will barely have the time to unpack her bags, and tomorrow night she'll be at la Scala to witness the glory of Daniela Dessì's voice and of her Gigantor b00bs: Adriana Lecouvreur.
Appearing alongisde Dessì will be her boytoy tenor, the bearded wonder that is Fabio Armiliato.
Here's the official site for the forthcoming Dead Man Walking
in Australia, starring TTR's steely abs.
Opera Chic has never been to Australia but Teddy's washboard vocal talent may be enough to convince us to visit, next September.
“I'm beside myself with joy -- Maidenform and I make such marvelous music together with Sweet Music©! The genius lies in the cups, each exquisitely sculptured from 8 separate triangles. Ingenious new "lifts" in the undercups hit a high note in comfort and curves!”
This is one of the highlights from the successful, nostalgic "I Dreamed" Maidenform bra ad campaign that was launched in 1949, and lasted well through the 1960s. [An article on Ida Rosenthal, founder and chair(woman) of American company Maidenform can be found here.] The advertisements highlighted models in both everyday situations and extraordinary scenarios, wearing nothing but the appropriate costumes accented with Maidenform bras.
"Sweet Music", a specific model of bra, was available for a mere $2.50, and was proclaimed as the: "Sweetest bra this side of heaven...it was born to be worn with the 'Empire Look'". The actual bra can be found here. No offense, but when OC makes her triumphant debut at the MET, you sure as heyll won’t find no Maidenform supporting my (.)(.) I’d have to be paid in the souls of the innocent to put that bewb armor near my tender skin.
Another ad from the “I Dreamed” series features the epiphany, “I dreamed I played in an all-girl orchestra in my maidenform bra.” Or maybe it's one of Gérard Mortier's edgy new ideas for the NYCO.
The all-girl orchestra is pretty hot, tho. In fact, it reminds me of this vvvvv
That big lumberjack of a sek-say baritone, surfer dude Teddy "Abz of Steel" Tahu Rhodes, is back as convicted killer Joseph de Rocher in the Dead Man Walking opera (he had already starred in the role in 2003). Leave it to him to make a murderer hawt as, huh, hell.
In the picture right above, TTR, sadly with abs concealed under his shirt, is standing next to Sister Helen Prejean, author of the Dead Man Walking book.
And we can only close a post as depressing as one on the death penalty with the uplifting image of Teddy's abs in glorious close-up (100% size image pops up, watch out! those things attack!).
Pier Luigi Pizzi makes Madrid feel all tingly (especially the tennis fans) with his refreshing, Lacosterrific production of Rossini's La Pietra del Paragone @ Madrid's Teatro Real.
Set! Match! Abs! Bewbs!
At Vienna's Theater an der Wien New Zealander surfer dude Teddy Tahu Rhodes and his abs star as Stanley Kowalski in André Previn's A Streetcar Named Desire. Sister-in-law Blanche is played by Janice Watson and preggers wife Stella is played by Mary Mills.
This was the Austrian premiere of an operatic version of Tennessee Williams's superawesome 1947 play
Maestro Charles Mackerras is conducting Haendel's Orlando at the Royal Opera House, and all O_o eyes O_o are on the very impressive Suzanne McNaughton.
NSFW links (with NSFW pictures) are here ["Londra, il topless sbarca anche all'Opera"] and here ["Opera singer performs topless"].
And, fittingly:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RENEE!!!111
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Obligatory shoutout to opera's secksiest couple, Dessì+Armiliato
Valentine's Day is approaching and there's no better way to celebrate it on an Opera blog than to pay our respects to a cool opera couple -- on stage and off: the divinely bewbalicious Daniela Dessì -- an Opera Chic favorite -- and her dark boytoy Fabio Armiliato. The couple is getting the excellent reviews they deserve for their performance in Vienna: a hawt, Robert Carsen directed Manon Lescaut with big extra helpings of teh sexiness, and lots of pushup bras. Costumes by Victoria's Secret.
For those of you who hate when things go unresolved, an update:
From Opera di Roma's buff-Salome-actress Maruska Albertazzi's blog comes a new entry regarding the status of her missing briefcase and the accompanying media.
As of this past Monday, Albertazzi's cabbie, "Mr. Roma 31", returned her bag with the documents and her "special" autographed photograph is quite the happy ending.
A naked actress struts among singers and musicians during the Luk Perceval-directed Claudio Monteverdi's Marienvesper, currently in rotation at Berlin's Staatsoper Unter den Linden.
NSFW (naked lady) Opera Chic Flickr album can be found here.
[Obligatory Alanis Morissette Thank You reference here.]
Actress Maruska Albertazzi, one of the two Salomes in the barenaked, nude, naked, Brazilian-waxed, scandalous, pant-pant Salome at Opera di Roma (the other Salome is hawt soprano Francesca Patané), has a (NSFW) blog.
And a few minutes ago she has posted an entry explaining that after tonight's show, she took a cab to go to dinner with her family. And she left a small briefcase in the taxi's trunk. Inside an envelope, there were "personal documents of great importance" and an 8x10 glossy of the actress, naked. Nuda.
Maruska is asking the cabbie to kindly bring back the documents.
He can keep the photo.
If said, hopefully non-horny taxi driver reads Opera Chic, we are happy to join the kind Miss Albertazzi in requesting he please brings back the documents.
And if he does keep the photo, would he please scan it and send a nice hi-res file to Opera Chic's e-mail addy? THX
As promised (and btw, a shoutout to all the thousands of opera lovers who come here daily googling and yahooing and AOLing for "Francesca Patané nuda"), here is a NSFW set of new, nude Francesca Patané images from Rome's naked Salome.
Today's Corriere della Sera (story not online, see photo below) reports that last night, la prima in Rome of Giorgio Albertazzi's superhawt staging of the Strauss opera (barenaked Francesca Patané is Salome, NSFW gallery is here) has not gone well: director Albertazzi -- a legend of Italian theatre and cinema, unforgettable in Last Year At Marienbad -- has been booed by the (not nearly as snarky as La Scala's) audience.
The audience and the critics have been kinder with Patanè's performance. And reporters guarantee that Maruska Albertazzi (the actress who plays Salome in a tacked-on, non-musical prologue), as promised was completely naked. And her crotch, as promised by the director and anticipated by Opera Chic, was completely hairless.
The question remains, though: Brazilian wax or simple razor? 
PS: Opera Chic promises her kind readers who are Salome fans, Patané fans, or just horny, that she'll post more hi-res pictures of Salome tomorrow. Today has just been very, very busy.
Remember this post where I reported on Teatro dell'Opera di Roma's super erotic Salome with the late Giuseppe Patanè's daughter Francesca and her "Never Say Never" nude on-stage appearance?
Well, Opera Chic ensures that you don't have to haul yourself over to Rome just to get a glimpse of the action. Patanè certainly bared-it-all (aside from ultra-thin pasties and some fake henna tattoos).
The edited images (with strategically-placed kawaii ^__^) appear below...
However, if you are *still* aching to see Patanè's unedited assets, follow the download links below for the NSFW untinkered, scintillating, smoking-hawt jpegs NSFW:
Download patanesalome01.jpg (NSFW)
Download patanesalome02.jpg (NSFW)
vvvvUPDATEvvvv
As dear reader fignaz pointed-out, Patanè is rawkin' teh stockin'.
Teatro dell'Opera di Roma opens their season on January 16, 2007 with a bang, that promises to be supple, silky and smooth, and last 1-2 months. What?!? Okay, let's try this again:
Corriere della Sera has reported that Opera di Roma is presenting a new production of Strauss' Salome, conducted by Alain Lombard and directed by Giorgio Albertazzi, which is sending everyone clamoring for tickets. The reason?
In addition to promising sex, violence, and eroticism, and boasting the lead role of Salome as the cult-favorite soprano, Francesca Patanè, daughter of famous Italian conductor Giuseppe Patanè (who tragically died in 1989 while conducting Il Barbiere di Siviglia at the Bavarian State Opera), there has been scripted a fifteen-minute prologue which will display, "due Salome al prezzo di una. E tutt'e due nude," which reads, "Two Salomes for the price of one, and both are nude."
OMG things like this don't happen at the opera!!! Two naked Salomes, you say?! Now, if that isn't enough nudity in the name of l'art pour l'art, this Salome offers a bit more:
The counterpart Salome for Francesca Patanè's soprano will be played by actress Maruska Albertazzi (no relation to the producer), who will portray the non-singing Salome in the prologue.
In adition to the usual perk of nudity (albeit usually wrapped in a flesh-colored body-stocking), Maruska Albertazzi has vowed to make her nubile appearance "sara nuda, completamente depilata," which translates, "I will be naked, completely hairless." [ed: shaved or waxed, whatevs -- there isn't really anything lost in translation here...because the point is, she will be appearing (down there) "bald as an eagle."]
Apparently, this isn't such a bold leap for Maruska Albertazzi (LINK NOT SAFE FOR WORK), who had previously appeared in 2003 in an extremely trashy/erotic movie "Fallo!", followed by a handful of naked on-stage performances. Hay, LAY OFF! She's an exotic DANCER. What she does is ART! ^____^
This performance will also mark the first time that Francesca Patanè has agreed to appear on stage naked. Not so shocking, as we've already seen tons of sopranos embrace semi-nudity for the sake of Salome. But Patanè was once quoted in an interview in 1995 saying, "non mi sarei mai spogliata in scene," or, that she would never appear naked on stage. When questioned about her former stance, she utters three simple words, "mai dire mai" (translation: "Never say never"). Okay Patanè, time to dust-off the backpeddle bike and start peddling!
Francesca Patanè has always been the undisputed princess of contention among Opera Chic's closest circle of friends, and none of us can particularly agree on our approval; although those who admire her, tend to laud her for her spotless technique. As I favor the delicate little doves of coloratura, you can imagine my take on the hearty, red-haired sauciness of Patanè. Well, you can be the judge, too...if you are lucky enough to sample Patanè's voice on this incredibly bootleg recording (found at the very discerning Buscemi Dischi on Corso Magenta) released from Kicco Classic.
Daniela Dessi and Fabio Armiliato in Manon Lescaut, currently at the Gran Teatre del Liceu Opera House in Barcelona.
British author and journalist Frank Johnson died on December 18, 2006 at age sixty-three after a seven-year fight with cancer.
Johnson attended the now-infamous Sunday night performance of Zeffirelli's Aida at Teatro alla Scala, where Alagna was booed-off the stage; after the performance, he filed his story, and checked-into the hospital where he passed away a few days later.
The Telegraph recently ran an article that highlighted Johnson's career. Johnson leaves a wealth of anecdotes, including this gem about his unique experience with Maria Callas and her bust of steel:
"At the age of 14 Frank appeared on stage at Covent Garden in Norma alongside Maria Callas. Children's parts at the Royal Opera House were taken by pupils at Frank's school, and he and a classmate (Arthur) were recruited to perform as Norma's two sons. Johnson recalled the experience in a hilarious article 25 years later:"
"Arthur and I learned with some consternation that a woman was coming to Covent Garden who was known as 'Opera's Tigress'. Furthermore, she had been in a 'storm' in New York. She had got the sack for a baritone who had held a final note longer than her in a duet. The latter was untrue, as the books now make clear, but that was no good to Arthur and me at the time."
"Of the performance, Johnson went on: 'I could not forget that when Callas bore down on us with the knife, her nostrils flared; that when, dropping the knife, she repentantly clasped us to her bosom, her perfume smelt like that of an aunt who was always kissing me; and that at the first performance on February 2 there penetrated, into my left eye, the tip of the diva's right breast, which partnership remained throughout the subsequent duet with [Ebe] Stignani...there are few men who can truthfully say that their eye made contact with the right nipple of Maria Callas.'"
Jérôme Savary's current show at the Opéra Comique in Paris, "A la recherche de Joséphine - à La Nouvelle-Orléans" (Looking for Joséphine - New Orleans), celebrates the ubiquitous allure of Josephine Baker, the evolution of jazz as an inherently African American art form, and commemorates the devastation of Hurricane Katrina into one big, raunchy fable.
Jérôme Savary’s previous work as a stage director should be familiar to opera fans, as this master of mise-en-scène was responsible for Muti's 1991 Attila at Teatro alla Scala with Ramey and Studer, as well as the Théâtre Antique's Carmen from 2004 with Roberto Alagna and Béatrice Uria-Monzon.
Jérôme Savary's new show on Baker, running until January 14, 2007, stars Nicolle Rochelle, or better known quite ambitiously on myspace as, "Nicolle Rochelle -AKA- 'La Nouvelle Josephine'" (let’s hope her myspace webpage design is supposed to be “ironic”). Apparently girl got it together, as a review of a dance recital from last year stated, "Rochelle stood out more for her heavy bangs and bright-red hair than for her dancing", and her last credits I found online were from Chappelle’s Show.
Although I can't read French language very well, (gazes long and hard in the direction adelynlee) it's worth the ticket, as the show includes reenactments of Baker's famous Danse Sauvage from La Revue Nègre. With bananas, feathers, and Eiffel Tower pasties (NSFW), of course. Viva La Baker!
(You can find three images from the current production on the Opera Chic flickr photostream here.)
William Friedkin, best known for his films The Exorcist and 12 Angry Men, recently made a mess out of Bavarian Staatsoper's early November production of Richard Strauss's Salome. Andante's Shirley Apthorp gleefully tears it apart, calling it (in one of her nicer sentiments) both "inept and ugly".
Unfortunately, this Salome had big expectations, with Kent Nagano at the helm, and situated as the second half of a double bill, preceded by the world premiere of Wolfgang Rihm's Das Gehege. But Friedkin's production apparently suffused too much nudity and eroticism into the screenplay, and it appeared quite lazy, unimaginative, and unwatchable.
"Unable to create any plausible erotic tension between Alan Titus's musty, uncharismatic Jochanaan and Angela Denoke's neurotic Salome, Friedkin had his soprano simply strip. She danced her own Dance of the Seven Veils, just as embarrassingly as any less slender and lissome singer might have done, and then let Herodes (sung like a Disney caricature by Wolfgang Schmidt) tear off her top and lick her nipples."
...and of Angela Denoke's singing? Even more brutal, "She swoops up to her high notes and hoots when the going gets tough. The range of expressive color is narrow, and the basic sound is unlovely." MEE-OW.
