Manon Lescaut

First things first — this post made possible by the wonderful Erin of the Chauvel Cinema in Paddington, who remembered me buying my season pass and so let me into Manon Lescaut without a ticket.

There are other roles I would rather see and hear her in, but Karita Mattila as Manon Lescaut is still, well, Karita Mattila. It is perhaps a slightly funny voice for the part but so what? She's so riveting to watch, so glorious to hear, such a singular sensory experience that she could be singing anything, and I'd be captivated. After all, this the woman who ended her 40th birthday recital with "Summertime" accompanied by electric guitar. She's endearingly nuts. Her interview with Renée, already posted chez Parterre, is barely coherent but hilarious. I'm impressed by anybody who can do the splits, let alone somebody who does the splits while being Karita Mattila. She starts stretching and making faces and flopping about before the final act, then suddenly realises "oh god, you're filming!" And then the curtain goes up and the music starts and she's totally riveting, a genuine singing actress. This is greatness, I think. Surrounded by a cast of good solid voices giving conventionally operatic kinds of portrayals, she's a gorgeous sliver of real life, of nervous, human energy. There are moments when it's like watching a Janacek heroine trapped in a Puccini opera, but why would I complain about that? Janacek, or the suggestion of Janacek, is always a good thing. Karita a little out of her element is exciting enough; now I'm ready to be blown away by Karita totally in her element — some Wagner, Strauss or Janacek please, Met in HD.

Meanwhile, there are other people in it. Marcello Giordani seems a bit of a sweetheart, both onstage and off. After a few of the things I've been hearing locally recently, it is a relief and a joy to hear a nice, strong, well supported tenor voice. Dwayne Croft is one of those names I've always seen about, and somebody who showed up on various Met radio broadcasts; but I'd never seen him in action and was surprised by how (for lack of a better word) interesting he is. I had the impression of a useful, reliable but not necessarily distinctive singer, but I was really rather drawn to him, and the superiority of cinema speakers to my tinny radio showed him to far better vocal advantage than usual.

As always, I spent the intermissions inwardly declaring my undying love for the gorgeous and wonderful Renée Fleming. There is something particularly appealing about having the stars of the performance interviewed by a singer who is every bit as much a star as they are — in some cases, more so. There is no fawning, there are no silly, poorly-informed questions. Best of all was her conversation with Jimmy, who finished answering her first question and said "My, you look so beautiful tonight". As in love with her as I am. Both he and Giordani couldn't help but note that they were talking about Puccini's Manon with a magnificent Massenet Manon.

It occurs to me that the remainder of the cinema broadcast series is a parade of Sopranos I Love — Patricia Racette, Deborah Voigt, and somebody called Natalie Dessay. The only spanner in the works is Angela Gheorghiu in La bohème, but since these broadcasts seem always to result in my declaring my love for somebody, perhaps this will prove to be my conversion.