Opera Chic

Who's The Most Tenorissimo?

La Stampa sat down with 34-year-old Peruvian tenor Juan Diego Flórez and 27-year-old Italian Francesco Meli in recognition of tonight’s la prima of Donizetti’s L'Elisir d'Amore at Teatro Regio di Torino, where both tenors will be sharing the role of Nemorino. Flórez will sing la prima tonight, and then the 16th, 20th, 22nd, 25th, and the 27th, with Meli filling-in the remainder of dates. La Stampa has spun the performance as a battle of the tenors: one rising star poised to supersede the Peruvian strong horse. Please. As if. Let’s not even go there.

The interview begins by asking lots of uninteresting questions about L'Elisir d'Amore i.e. "Since when have you been singing this? Which aria gets the most applause?" Below find a few of the more engaging questions, and then judge for yourself if Meli is adequate enough to fill the shoes of teh h0tness with the golden lamby voice.

Which opera will you always sing?
Flórez: La fille du regiment and l'Italiana in Algeri.
Meli: L'Elisir d'Amore. At least I hope.

Which opera will you never sing?
Flórez: "Sicuramente Werther".
Meli: The Magic Flute. It's too German.  [Ummmm, what?!]

What is the most essential thing for a tenor?
Flórez: i nervi saldi = nerves of steel.
Meli: Basically, a beautiful voice.

Which old-skool tenor have you always admired?
Flórez: Alfredo Kraus.
Meli: Francisco Araiza. [Who?!]

And a tenor of today?
Flórez: Marcelo Alvarez. [Alagna diss].
Meli: Marcelo Alvarez.

When you're not singing, what are you doing?
Flórez: Usually I'm on the computer, but only to respond to emails. [LIES! HE NEVER WRITES ME BAKC! *wipes tears with JDF poster*]
Meli: Being a husband and a father.

Who is your favorite primadonna?
Flórez: Mine is Adina here in Torino, Eva Mei. She's the personification of the civilization (tradition) of song. [Eva Mei will be staring as Adina opposite Flórez].
Meli: Since picking my wife would be banal, I'll say Patrizia Ciofi. [Meli’s wife is IRL Serena Gamberoni, who also stars in the cast as the Adina secondary].

Is it better to be famous or “bravi”?
Flórez: It's better to be famous for the right reasons: not because you've done crossover concerts and now everyone knows you, but rather to be famous because you are first 'bravi'.
Meli: Bravi. To appear in the papers is a side dish, not the main course.  [what does that even mean?!]

And your next performance?
Flórez: Rossini's Otello in August in Pesaro
Meli: Barbiere di Siviglia this summer at the Arena di Verona

The project that you hold closest?
Flórez: My next disc that comes out in September, which is dedicated to the romantic tenor Giovanni Battista Rubini.
Meli: Lucia di Lammermoor in Bologna next season.

Give me one adjective for your colleague:
Flórez: Bravo.
Meli: Enthusiastic.

okay. That solves it. The guy comes-off with an inferiority complex, but can we say we blame him? Meli needs to take some PR lessons from Flórez's polished diplomacy.

(btw, you've gots to czech out the page holder for meli’s developing website) omg teh loals. comic sans ms font is always a good idea. and is that the guy from 'Double Dare'? omg omg I'm gonna hafta take the physical challenge, marc!

Everything Old is New Again

We're digging Norman Lebrecht's article "Youngsters Take Over Europe's Orchestras", where he uses the recent appointment of Gustavo Dudamel as Music Director at the Los Angeles Philharmonic in late 2009 as an encouraging paradigm for other US orchestras to hopefully adopt in their future "passing of baton", implementing the gigantic crop of young hopefuls coming out of Europe and Russia. We’ve already seen the huge success of putting bets on youngins’ such as Vladimir Jurowski, Daniel Harding, and Robin Ticciati…and now if only the US would take more notice.

While Europe invests greater trust and takes greater risks with conductor prodigies, US orchestras (for various reasons of their own) have long stuck with old, safe, reliable figureheads, and even create self-defeating, nominal safety positions. A perfect example that Lebrecht cites: the awful mess of the New York Philharmonic, who will need to fill Lorin Maazel’s shoes, but has, in the meantime, created a perplexing “Principal Conductor” post to compete with the Associate Conductor.

Regardless, we’re bolstered by one of the last quotes, “Do not be surprised if American concert halls look seriously younger before the end of the decade.” We’re looking forward to a new crop of pre-teen conductors…like pageant queens or doogie howser m.d., and then a reality show spin-off, of course.

But Opera Chic says, let's sort the men from the boys here (heh): just give this little guy a baton, have him stand on a taller-than-usual podium, and enjoy the show.

Verdi's Requiem: Lesser-Known In Utah

"Sandy musicians embrace lesser-known Verdi"

Boulez's Last Hurrah: Janacek's House of the Dead Conquers Vienna

Thirty-one years after their historic Ring in Bayreuth, Pierre Boulez and Patrice Chéreau have been reunited by another smashing success, Leos Janacek's last opera, they Syberian horror story that is From the House of the Dead, in Vienna (at the Festwochen). Standing ovations galore and great, great reviews in the Austrian press (esp Kurier and Die Presse). Sadly, it will be 82-year-old Boulez's last hurrah as opera conductor, because he wants to concentrate on composing. He will occasionally conduct symphonic works, but operas consume way too much time -- three or four months of work -- for the maestro.

We will admire the same production next year at la Scala (it's a co-production with la Scala, Aix-en-Provence, the Met and obviously the Wiener Festwochen).

A Boulez/Chereau interview on Orf is here.

Jonas Kaufmann Leads Lieder at La Scala

German h0ttie Tenor Jonas Kaufmann drew a small (but devoted) crowd at his Teatro alla Scala recital earlier this evening in Milan. The palchi were 1/3 full, and blocks of seats on the orchestra floor remained vacant, but for those that comprised the audience, Kaufmann seemed to deliver. For this Opera Chic, not so much. Full casual (thank gawd)…Paul Smith black embroidered blouse tucked into my vintage Levis (again), grey Repetto round-toe Victorian boots (although it was humid, it was kind of chilly today), and a matching grey Prada skinny belt. And the standby Louis Vuitton Speedy.

Kaufmann looked pretty good himself. omg teh hawt. He stepped-out in full frac, tailing pianist & "Lieder-Meister" Helmut Deutsch in the same. The tenor launched weakly into Schubert's Die Bürgschaft, and his small voice was worrisome. He couldn't seem to find the proper projection, and at first, the accompaniment played over him. Speaking of Deutsch, the man needs to lay off the damper pedal. His legato is insane (but as an outted legato junkie, it was strangely curious). His Schubert seemed a little sloppy, and dropping his place once, he left Kaufmann to sing a few measures in gaping silence.

Kaufmann undoubtedly creates a pleasant presence on stage (tall/dark/handsome), comes across as gentle/patient/cool, and has nailed plenty of his technique and training, but there's something strangled about his voice, and his color is just not my thang. Benjamin Britten's Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo Buonarroti was next...with a few haunting passages, but not enough to gather too much enthusiasm save the normal spectrum applause. The first half was rather boring, in all honesty. Even with Kaufmann's yummy appearance, OC found herself counting all the spent light bulbs of the centerpiece chandelier (at least a dozen on my visible side), counting all the completely empty palchi (I stopped at 35), and contemplating how different salons treat manicures here (short & rounded vs. nyc's long & squared). Interesting stuff.   

At la pausa, Opera Chic was considering leaving the recital, but something urged me to stay...and I'm glad I did. (btw, in the photo below, you can see just how empty La Scala was...during intermission.)

Any apprehension and uncomforting lapses that Kaufmann displayed in the first part of the recital had been chased away as he began Richard Strauss' Schlichte Weisen. It was almost immediate during "Du meines Herzens Krönelein" and the following "Ach Lieb', ich muss nun scheiden" that he channeled some sort of chocolaty Lieder goodness, drawing-out wild applause and bravi from the gallerie which was very much deserved. It all came to climax as he finished the last work of the evening, Strauss' Vier Lieder, which ended in the same rabid applause and praise.

The difference between the two segments was strange, but whatevs. It was a quick recital at an easy pace, and including the bis (and a twenty minute intermission), was less than two hours. Kaufmann took his calls, and gifted the audience with four encores: all various Lieder that OC can't place (considering the gigantic oeuvre of Lieder + my usual impatience for the art = all Lieder sounds the same to these ignorant ears). ok ha ha j/k.

As the recital ended, I was left with one question: I know that Kaufmann has done it before to good reviews, but I just can't imagine his Alfredo on the la Scala stage without getting swallowed whole by Maazel and the orchestra. Holy sh*t...Jonas(h) and the freaking whale. I love it. He's going to get swallowed on the 17th when he sings opposite Nucci "The Whale" Germont and Angela (if she bothers to show-up). Whatever happens, Opera Chic will be there blah blah blah.

Now before I jump, here's a blurry picture I took of Jonas' a$$:

Is that Sacagawea Over There Behind Franz Kafka?

Since everyone in America seems to be lamenting the end of the opera season (as the first weekend without live-from-the-MET Opera-broadcasts has just passed), you can kill some time doing the "guess the historical dead person" contest, courtesy of The Metropolitan Opera. The deadline is tonight at midnight, so sharpen those pencils, get out those magnifying glasses, and dust-off those fifth-grade history books.

lol Now for a little back-story lol: To hype the new Mark Morris production of Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice (or as Juntwait sez: "Oreos and YUUUR-idice"), the crafty NYC Metropolitan Opera team offered a game asking listeners to discern the identity of the almost 100 costumed chorus members, brainchild of costumière Isaac Mizrahi.

//fyi fyi I already put in my submissions, and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna win (sry guys): In addition to Ben Franklin, Marie Curie, Liberace, Gandhi, Abe Lincoln, and Henry Viii, I found LeVar Burton's Geordi from Star Trek Next Generation, Max von Sydow's Emperor Ming, Roy Scheider's Joe Gideon/Bob Fosse, Internet Celebrity SuperGreg, and the dancing peanutbutterjellytime banana.

Although the prize is kinda weak (2 tickets and a backstage tour), it's better than trolling OperaShare for the latest “Gheorghiu Sings Schubert's Winterisse live from Moblie Alabama Opera".

Now let's all to go Mizrahi's house and beat the crap out of him for the right answers. I'll light the torches, you guys gather the pitchforks.

Sometimes Too Much Information is Too Much Information

In yesterday's Io Donna, a feature titled, "L'acuto di una buongustaia" covers the Maria Callas cookbook that Opera Chic had reported back in February. Ummm, hello?! Titled "La Divina in Cucina: Il Ricettario Segreto di Maria Callas", the book lists roughly 150 recipes that are linked to Callas either by the invention of adoring chefs, or scribbled from La Callas herself.

Her diet was so strict, and she kept to such hard-line limitations, that when she was traveling and ate in restaurants, she would allow herself only a taste, and only picked at the offerings. She would take notes from the famous chefs that cooked plate after plate of food from her on a tiny notepad, which have been conserved by Elena Pozzan, her personal chef and dresser.

In her library, she had tons of books on food and cooking in many languages. The first ones were given to her by her mother-in-law, Giuseppina, the mother of Giovanni Battista Meneghini. In fact, it was Giuseppina that gave la Callas cooking lessons on the art of typical Veronese dishes such as cold duck with hot polenta, and baccalà Veronese style.

About her diet, her husband Meneghini wrote that he always liked to keep good-tasting food around the house, but Maria kept a strict and dutiful diet instead. She ate only red meat (and lots of it) and raw vegetables, without any salt or oil, "like a goat". No liquor and a tiny bit of wine. He explains that she loved red meat so much that she would literally attack the bones like a lion at a feeding frenzy. I only wish I was making this up. He recalls that when she sang at La Scala, they would sometimes go first in the evening to eat at Biffi-Scala at seven o'clock, where she would eat filetto (a thick, meaty cut of beef) of such gigantic proportions, that everyone in the restaurant who saw it couldn't believe that she would be able to sing an hour later with all that food digesting in her stomach! O_o

The worst anecdote?: her cook recalls that she had a weakness for salami, and was keen to whip it out when she had guests. But when it was passed around, la Callas would only taste it with her fingers, shunning a fork. Like this, when guests would take her hand for a kiss, apparently her fingers always carried the smell of salami. I can think of worse smells to have on ones fingers, but...oh how grody. i was like damn.

   

Before I Drop Into Bed: La Bella Addormentata Recap

Opera Chic survived two intermissions and emerged tonight into the humid Milan air a full three hours & fifteen minutes after the eight-o’clock la prima of La bella addormentata nel bosco at Teatro alla Scala. (was that even a sentence?!)

Ballerina Svetlana Zakharova made us for a moment forget that we were crammed in a palco in the middle of a historical theater in a boisterous city in Europe. Zakharova flawlessly pranced through her steps as Princess Aurora, taunting years of practice and devotion into something transcendent. When after pricking her finger on a hidden spindle lurking in a bouquet of flowers, she faded-out like something truly ephemeral. When she was given the kiss to breathe back life, she flourished like a flower in the sunlight. She’s beautiful, tall, and was in perfect control. Prince Desire’s (lamest name ever) Denis Matvienko was solid, elegant, and provided perfect accompaniment.

Sets were indeed reminiscent of Versailles, and each scene was a variation on a receiving court of a royal château. Costumes were of shiny, luxurious, and luminous textiles. Tutus were classical with gorgeous beads and embroidered bodices, all finished with gorgeous tiaras and headpieces.

Tchaikovsky’s score is for OC pretty lame, unfortunately, and didn’t elicit an ounce of resonance throughout the entire work. An aberration of the evening was the over-implementation of dry ice to create the water effect in which prince and princess take a pass in a boat. The excess vapor poured into the orchestra pit, blanketing two very hawt clarinetists, upsetting the harpist, bass clarinet, and oboe section. damn. But at least it called into play the hotness of the clarinet players. Shoot. Bonus: during the first intermission, there was a personality interviewing some of the omnipresent Milanese royalty in the lobby. Picture below:

   

Maybe more tomorrow? Maybe not. We’ll see. l8r gators.

Svetlana Zakharova Talks to Corriere

A piece from today's Corriere shares an interview with pretty pony ballerina Svetlana Zakharova, tonight starring in the premier of La bella addormentata nel bosco at Teatro alla Scala.

The twenty-eight-year-old Ukrainian-born dancer's father is a retired member of Red Army, which is pretty freaking, um, hardcore. She is concurrently in Milan with the Bolshoi Theatre's tour, interpreting Pierre Lacotte's (music by Cesare Pugni) La Fille du Pharaon at the Teatro degli Arcimboldi with 119 other Bolshoi ballerini. She describes how impressed she was with a certain Milanese tailor that she sampled while here in the city, how her mother pushed her into dancing, how dancing on stage is completely natural to her, and how she wouldn't demand ballerina offspring when she decides to have a family. She also tells Corriere that she hopes her Bolshoi colleagues do not show up at the theater tonight to see her dance, as today is their last day to go shopping and relax before leaving, and she rather see them take advantage of those things.

A Sea of Tutus Beckon in Scotland

Scottish Ballet Spring Costume Sale!! For the first time in its history, the Scottish Ballet is selling-off costumes that have been previously used during its thirty-five years of establishment in past repertoire. The aim is to conserve space in preparation for next year's relocation to the Tramway in Glasgow. The sale will be open first to professional buyers (such as dance schools, theaters, and costume stores), but opens to the public on June 1 & 2 at the current location on 261 West Princes Street.

omg I have such a tutu fetish it's not even funny, and legwarmers are teh h0ttness. I would gladly trade all my closed sale invites to Costume National, Paul Smith, and Jil Sander to foray around the Scottish Ballet Costume sale.

Rudolf Nureyev's La Bella Addormentata @ La Scala

Tonight La Scala hosts the premiere of La bella addormentata nel bosco, and Opera Chic, of course, must be there. The Sleeping Beauty (lol of the Wood lol) is based on the fairytale of the same name in Perrault's ubiquitous "Mother Goose Tales" from the seventeenth century. Here we are dealing with good & bad fairies, princes and ogres.

It is a ballet near and dear to the heart of La Scala (and one that Nureyev himself called “the apex of classical ballet”), as it was here in Milan in 1966 that Rudolf Nureyev himself took to the stage in his Western Hemisphere world premier, dancing the title role (having previously danced it at the Kirov in Leningrad during the late 1950s).

This rich ballet premiered in 1890 in Saint Petersburg's Mariinsky Theatre. Set to Tchaikovsky's Opus 66, it became his first big success (Swan Lake apparently was sort of a snoozer). The choreography was set by Marius Petipa, which Rudolf Nureyev later took great inspiration in his subsequent version, while giving it a new theatrical and dramatic impulse.

Tonight's production is of La Scala's and Rudolf Nureyev’s choreography, last seen during the La Scala 2001/2 season, which was also the last show at the opera house before the transfer was made to Teatro degli Arcimboldi. The 1993 Franca Squarcipino sets and costumes will be implemented, which sets the tale in a lavish and opulent background, inspired by Versailles.

At a hefty three hours and fifteen minutes, with a prologue and three acts, this may be my undoing. Make sure to check in later tonight for a trip report!

Anything to Make Pelléas et Mélisande More Interesting.

Austrian mezzo Angelika Kirchschlager speaks about her current performance as Mélisande (with Simon Keenlyside as Pelléas) in Debussy's Pelléas et Mélisande at the Royal Opera House. The article delves into her vampy-red costume, her necessary hair extensions, and how Stanislas Nordey’s staging (taken from the 2006 Salzburg Festival) is reminiscent of phone sex. Yes, she said “phone sex”. fone sax. 

Kirchschlager addresses the symbolic structure of unwinding her (not exactly) 20-foot hairs to Pelléas during Act II’s tower window scene:

"In our production, I'm standing high above the stage. I fling my arms open instead of letting my hair down, and Simon Keenlyside (as Pelléas) is bathed in light, and dances in it. It's so much more sensual than seeing actual 20-feet hair. In fact, it's incredibly erotic. We're apart, but connected. It's like phone sex!"

Q: Has Angelika Kirchschlager really ever had teh phone sex?
A: Quite possibly so. But Angelika, dear, "phone sex" is so very y2k. it's called cybering, as in 'wanna cyber'?

Vermont is Kind of Wack

The Green Mountain Opera Festival is looking for a child to play the role of Sorrow in its production of "Madama Butterfly" at the Barre Opera House on June 22 and 24. Sorrow is the son of Madama Butterfly, or Cio-Cio-San, and the American Lieutenant Pinkerton. He appears on stage for five minutes in the second act in a non-speaking, non-singing role. [...] The child could be either a girl or boy, from 4 to 6 years of age, relatively fair-skinned and under three feet tall.

Fisticuffs! At the Opera Pops!

The fist fight that broke-out in the second balcony during last night's Boston Pops season opener has Milan's loggionisti envious.

The following YouTube clip is too dark to decipher, but lends a good impression of the disruption through the flow of Keith Lockhart's conducting. HOOLIGANS! The pen is mightier than the sword!

vvvvvvv update vvvvvvv

The victim speaks!!!!!! Matt Ellinger said to the press:

"I just got cold-cocked at the pops."

Renée Gives Good Phone (Interviews)

 

(omg what?? Renée is going to sing Rossini's William Tell Overture?!)

Czech out this endearing interview from Eugene, Oregon's The Register-Guard with Renée Fleming. The soprano will be visiting Oregon this Monday, May 14 in celebration of Israel's Independence Day!!!! j/k j/k. She's just going to be hanging out, and doing her thang. Her soprano recital thang. With the Eugene Symphony Orchestra.

In the telephone interview, Renée quotes "Spamalot", addresses the 1998 La Scala booing incident that flung her from stage, and YouTube:

Question: Where does opera fit, in a world with YouTube?

Answer: Scenes from Onegin were on there before the PBS broadcast. Pretty much everything we do of interest ends up on YouTube the next day. I find that's an added pressure, because you can't go anywhere without being on someone's cell phone camera.

Question: Have you ever been captured off-stage on YouTube? Like shopping or something?

Answer: Not that I know of. Oh, God, that's a scary thought. No, no, no, no. I wouldn't want that.

*puts on pants*
*whips out cam*
*films me typing this post*
*uploads it to YouTube 2mrrw morning*
*basks in glory of YouTube fame...pwns lonelygirl15*

Maria Callas: The Man, The Myth, The Legend...Wait A Sec'

The Italian Institute of Culture in Athens is hosting a traveling exhibit devoted to everyone's favorite historical diva (or at least: well-known diva), Maria Callas. The Greeks will have a chance to see the phenomenal exhibition, which displays 517 personal objects of la Callas (and from a few of her colleagues) throughout her career. The exhibition titled, "Maria Callas: One woman, One voice, One myth", («Maria Callas: una donna, una voce, un mito»), has been curated by the president of the Associazione Culturale Maria Callas in Venice, Bruno Tosi, in recognition of the 30th year of her passing, which will be this September 16 (from 1977).

Costumes, gowns and clothes that she had chosen to wear backstage in between scenes (by Dior and Lanvin); famous costumes that she had worn in some of her last stage appearances; jewelry, letters, telegrams -- even cooking recipes -- as well as family pictures, both of Giovanni Battista Meneghini and of Aristotile Onassis, can all be found on display.

Just when you think that you've heard of like every single retrospective on Maria Callas, there always seems to be one more lurking around.

Post Berlin Manon Chat

This afternoon, Opera Chic is thankful for purry little kittens, N.V. Perricone's Lip Plumper, Apple's sweet design team (we would die a lonely, virus-infested PC death without their visionary R&D), the freedom of the internets (obs), not growing-up in the 70s (ugh...all that hair), but especially to Arte for being like the coolest channel ever.

I know more than a few of you fellow Europe-dwellers had a Manon party last night, to celebrate the awesomness that is Rolando and Anna. OC dragged a few unwilling friends to piazza chic to join in the Arte's broadcast of the Berlin Staatsoper unter den linden's Massenet Manon la prima from April 29, 2007. (btw, following the link above: hitting refresh/F5 will rotate the promotion photo, showing at least a dozen different images from throughout the opera, Rolando and Anna included.)

What can we say? I'm sure it has already hit OperaShare so you can judge for yourselves: Rolando was terribly powerful, with the most heartbreaking acting thrown into the mix, and Netrebko was hawt and spicy in this stimulating (in more ways than one) and gilded  production.

Of course, OC watched with camera at the ready for delicious screenshots. Photo album with 20-ish more screenshots can be found here. Enjoy below:::

sms@ OC: *ring* hay OC whuts cookin?
OC: *um* home taking fotos of teh tv.
sms@ OC: i think i have the wrong # *click*

~~~~~

Angela: Hot or Not?

Thanks to a certain tipster who alerted OC of the certain filleting of a certain soprano in today's Evening Standard, we can again share in the schadenfreude (celebrity misfortune *always* makes us feel better) that is so rewarding with the Alagnas (the Angertos). 

In "Diva Not So Divine", homegirl Angela got served after an unimpressive recital at the Barbican from last night, under the baton of Ion Marin -- despite modeling three skimpy costumes to show-off her newly toned somethin'somethin'. Quoteth Fiona Maddocks:

"She sang nine arias, totaling just 33 minutes of music plus encores, scandalously short by any measure...Some tepid Giordani and Handel represented the bulk of the first half, with an obliging LSO filling the yawning gaps. Her Habanera from Carmen had all the erotic warmth of a winter night out in Moldova."

Downward spiral. She must be getting performance tips from britney (minus the wig. and the lipsynching. and the gum-chewing. you get my point.) 

La Scala Orchestra: Let Me Film You With My Cellphone, Maestro

He left la Scala more than two years ago, but Riccardo Muti's era at la Scala -- an era of total, almost religious devotion to music, Toscanini-style -- ended effectively last night. When Bobby McFerrin led la Scala's orchestra in a singalong, and a member of the orchestra decided to whip out his cell phone and take a little film of the whole thing.

We eagerly wait for it to show up on YouTube.

CYA L8R LAM3RGAT0R! Netrebko Is Hot Property!

From lovely reader Swiss-Sherlock *u srsly rule* came a superawesomeomgdang email, with a magical link, an email bomb, if you will...containing the three magic words that will set the opera world on fire FIRE F Y R E: ANNA IS SINGLE!

Anna Netrebko split from her fiancé tenor bass-baritone Simone Alberghini. Lamborghini. heh. The engagement is off, the two are calling it quits after a seven year relationship. Let's hope Anna had put ex libris in all of her books. 

As for the rest of the internets: THIS ONE IS MINE BACK OFF FOOLS!

Rolando Villazón: In Our <3's, On Our Television

Arte is in the process of unveiling a totally awesome Rolando Villazón week, and has been filling their time-slots with Rolando-heavy rotations. Sunday was a rebroadcast of the 2005 documentary, "une soirée à Berlin" by Daniel Finkernagel and Alexander Lück, which followed the tenor via brief interviews and an evening recital with the Südwestdeutsche Philharmonie. Highlights of the recital were “Ma se m'è forza perderti” from Verdi's Un Ballo in Maschera, “Mamma, quel vino è generoso”, from Mascagni's Cavalleria rusticana, and a bis of “No puede ser” from Pablo Sorozábal's la tabernera del puerto.

The documentary starts as Rolando is in his hotel room shower, and the camera “breaks into” his room, pans around his personal effects, and eventually intrudes on him in the shower. And yes, he sings in the shower. The best part? While we’re sure his hotel room offers the same pick of pr0n, boring news, and lame soap opera, he has on his television the Disney/Pixar film “The Incredibles”.

In between each set, the camera follows him backstage where he plays comically with the camera – mugging into the lens and flexing his muscles, jokes with the sound technicians, and is giggly as a teenage girl. He’s beyond adorable, and OC ♥ it. What we love about Rolando (aside from the obvious) is that his face is like plastic: in some shots he looks smotheringly, smokingly hawt...whereas in other shots, his features are like in battle-mode trying to work harmoniously within their allotted confines beneath those eyebrows. He always keeps us guessing, and that's pretty kewl.

Saturday the Finkernagel-Lück team struck genius again with the 2006 one hour documentary of our favorite Mexican tenor titled, "Ein mexikanischer Traum". Rolando leads the film crew at a dizzying speed around the streets of Mexico where he follows the paths that he took as a child: he visits his old elementary school, chats with old friends, and goes to the church where he almost considered induction into the priesthood. Rolando fills the screen with his larger-than-life antics (and eyebrows) (and really colorful shirts). He challenges the sixth graders to a soccer match, jumps over parking cones, and has all the energy as a hyperactive kid who has raided a candy factory. The documentary even shows rehearsals from the now famous Villazón/Netrebko Salzburg La Traviata, and ends in a spontaneous sing-a-long with a Mexican Mariachi band. heh.

Some plasma screenshots are below, and the rest (20-odd) you can find here in this nifty little photo album.

(below: Rolando singing in the shower! He was singing Missy Elliot's "Work It", I swear to gawd!!)

Nabucco Is A Gas: Va' Pipeline

Who said opera is irrelevant in nowadays hi-tech world?

The ancient Babylonian King Nebukanezzar (nicknamed Nabucco for short by the great 19th century Italian opera composer Giuseppe Verdi), has now given his name to a natural gas pipeline, envisaging to recall the mighty Mesopotamian king. This catchy name is literally and politically loaded with might and intrigue.

Speaking of Nabucco, a memo to aspiring conductors: this is how it's done.

And here, thanks to the operashare friends, is Muti's Philly Nabucco, 1989

http://rapidshare.com/files/24932312/nabucco89_cd_1.zip.html
http://rapidshare.com/files/24933310/nabucco89_cd_2.zip.html

Beat-Boxing at La Scala: Bobby McFerrin Invades.

 

Opera Chic braved the gorgeous Milan weather and strutted down to Teatro alla Scala tonight to have a Bobby McFerrin Experience with the La Scala Filarmonica (mentioned here and here).

In a nod to our recently hax0red Tamara Mellon, OC strapped on a pair of four-inch black leather Jimmy Choo stilettos and built the outfit around our martyred, well-heeled saint of cranky (ex)-husbands: my B-fly vintage Levi's 505s, pale tan Chloe ruffle blouse and a sheer RL tan tank underneath, a Chloe black Paddington for the swag, and a Rogan lightweight cashmere black cardigan for the chills (didn’t need it...i'm so hardcore rawr).

First of all, if you missed the show and are (luckily) in Italy, the performance will be rebroadcast on La7 Sunday, May 13.

The auditorium was less full than it was for the night of Gergiev only a week ago, but again that confusing “sold-out” message glared in red on the front placards. hmmmm. 

Bobby McFerrin was looking almost as elegant as Opera Chic (but not quite) in a black suit, the jacket which he later removed, revealing a black t-shirt underneath. The man stormed on stage, stepping lightly, radiating his joviality and excitement, twirling and bouncing the baton in his hands.

When you go to a show with McFerrin leading the orchestra, you know you are in for a different type of entertainment, so it’s really unfair to judge the actual conducting dexterity and to hold him up to Giulini or Abbado. That’s why I’ll say nothing specific about his Candide, or how he managed to transport the overture to that of the exact sound coming from a high school marching band. It was, um…dare I say...incredible?! 

Fauré’s Pavane opus 50 was next up. McFerrin put the baton behind his ear, picked-up a microphone, and stamped his imprint of the next hour of the concert. Using his voice as an instrument, he implemented his spirito musicale as part of the composition, form of a capella singing. At times it didn’t work, and was as incongruent as Glenn Gould’s humming. But mostly it did, and the arch of his voice intertwined deftly with the instruments he was conducting. He continued this device for the next piece, the Vivaldi Concerto for two cellos in G Minor, and voiced over the stings in harmony with Laffranchini's cello solo.

Between sets, McFerrin was jovial, loquacious, and engaging. He would interact with the audience via microphone, toasting his glass of water in honor of the crowds, and making his very distinctly McFerrin noises in small freestyles…like a musical Hightower. omg who didn’t love Hightower?!!

After the Vivaldi, he launched into about six or seven songs, all enacted with his voice alone as the instrument. Save one, which was a jazz ensemble, between a snare drum and a double bass played pizzicato where McFerrin “played” HA HA GET IT the trumpet. Most other pieces were done in his patented style of singing over his own beat-boxing. He also did a sweet little sing-a-long where he split the audience stage right from stage left, and made them his little puppets, signaling cues during his song.

The audience loved it, and that’s really all that mattered tonight. After la pausa, Mendelssohn’s Symphony 4, Opus 90 wasn't conducted as horribly as the Candide piece would have foreshadowed. As an encore, he did a passage from one of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, wwinter sprang simmer phall whatevs. It was sweet. In a hilarious interview with Corriere della Sera, he explained how his favorite composer is "Joe Green" (aka Giuseppe Verdi) and he'd really like to conduct Rigoletto some day (!!!???).

I was on the line with this one, not sure if I should waste a Monday night stuck inside Piermarini or out enjoying the mild early summer night…but I’m glad I choose the former and dissed my friends with the latter. La Scala chilled the f**k out tonight, and Milan is all the better for not taking itself too seriously. For once. GAWD. 

Angelika Kirchschlager on Wearing Trousers, Dropping Them, And Mèlisande.

"At this point of my life, doing this role is like a meditation for me".

Opera Chic's buddy Jessica "U Lucky Duchen" Duchen talks to Angelika Kirchschlager about Pélléas Et Mélisande and so much more.

Édith Piaf in Milan?!

This weekend Opera Chic missed a few things (more on that later, sometimes life interferes with art), among them the just-released Olivier Dahan film, La Vie En Rose (La Môme in French release), a film celebrating the tragic genius of Édith Piaf.

Debuted at the Berlin Film Festival this past February, 2007, it stars (much larger) Marion Cotillard magically filling the 4'8" frame of the French national icon. The film follows Piaf's colorful and incredible life (bf4e&e with Yves Montand, Jean Cocteau, and Marlene Dietrich) from her earliest memories to her death in 1963. Piaf dazzled Paris, but also made appearances at NYC's Carnegie Hall, singing “La Vie en Rose” and “Non, je ne regrette rien”.

It took Director Olivier Dahan three years to produce the film, only after poring through Piaf's personal letters and private writings, and channeling the spirit of the singer. His motivation was to expose the private pathos that drove Piaf's creative spirit, as opposed to the public image of the French superstar. His purpose was not to create a biopic, but to show her journey, and dissect the artistic drive behind the icon. The film was shot over the span of four and a half months in the beginning of 2006, in a Prague studio, Paris, and Los Angeles. Co-stars include film veteran Gérard Depardieu, Sylvie Testud, and Emanuelle "No, My Husband Is NOT A Paedophile, Merci" Seigner.

Now, we haven't read much about the film because we want to be surprised, but we are afraid it'll be a too-respectful look at an extraordinary artist's life, the way Clint Eastwood's well-meaning Bird kind of  embalmed Charlie Parker's legend in a long, slow, respectful cinematic funeral. We just don't know. It's just that Piaf's is possibly the only voice that can beat Callas's in the "raw, exposed nerves" department.

What's the word? Inoubliable.