Last night the blackjack went ringu-ringu and a friend offered-up a ticket to Mozart’s Così fan tutte at La Scala. OC wasn’t terribly interested, as this production was being given as a general, yet public, rehearsal for the rising stars of La Scala’s latest crop, and therefore offered slightly discounted ticket prices. But with all Milan’s hot-spots closed this weekend, and most friends out of town for the end-of-October ponte dei santi vacation days, Saturday night plans were v. limited. So OC -- in Rock & Republic Berlin black str8-legged jeans, Chloé loafer black platform pumps, giant Miu Miu gray wool sweater belted with a large black leather YSL buckle belt, and a navy Miu Miu wool babydoll jacket -- headed down to La Scala to get really, really sweaty (a wise word to visitors: the theater runs like super hot almost 95% of the time, winter, spring, summer & fall).
What ensued last night was one of the worst deliveries of Così fan tutte OC has laid her exotic eyes on. Amazingly, the misguided conducting and direction managed to turn the opera into something straight from standard Rossini repertoire -- not that there's anything wrong with Rossini. But now I understand why some lament this Mozart masterpiece as garbage -- having exited the most boring Così, reduced it to banal recitative banter and insufferably cranked arias, whole-fartedly lame.
And as if the production wasn’t bad enough, there was some loud mystery squeaking of a high-pitched fan belt backstage that echoed throughout the theater from the overture until Soave sia il vento, faded-out, and then returned so obnoxiously during Un'aura amorosa, that it was a wonder how the strings played over it.
The direction of this Cosi was so depressingly unfunny, stoic and distanced. And Poor Despina. HAY LIGHTEN U PHAVE A FEW DRINKS. Joo Ye Won as Despina exuded a mechanical stiffness that was frustrating because her voice was a-ok.
Natalia Gavrilan's Dorabella and Eleni Ioanidou's Fiordiligi were hardly captivating (aside from their cleavage-baring bustiers), and Guido Loconsolo's Guglielmo and Arthur Espiritu's Ferrando were lost. Nothing & no one gelled. The tempi were unflattering and rushed in parts, with a boringly predictable crescendo during the Act I finale. Ah, guarda, sorella was a bore, Come scoglio was a bore. And Mr. Conductor Ottavio Dantone somehow managed to make the overture sound like the opening scene from The Goonies. Dont ask me how! I DO not know!
Me ne vado! OC and company jetted for drinks after la prima pausa, almost an hour and a half into the belabored evening to drink the memory away. Next time i'll prolly go to the theater wasted. i cant take it ne moar!*~