Prima la musica

Tosca Day

Parterre helpfully points out that today is Tosca Day, the day in 1800 on which the events of Sardou's play take place. I'd never have known otherwise. I know May 20th is Eliza Doolittle Day and that yesterday was Bloomsday, but Tosca trivia is not really my strong point. Maybe it would be if I'd known it longer, but I was late coming to Tosca. I mean, I knew the basic contours of the opera — they're hard to avoid, once you're living the operatic life — but it's only been in the last eighteen months or so that I've really got to know it properly.

Most of that was the crash course I underwent towards the end of 2009. Reason? Cheryl Barker. She's the reason for quite a lot of my operatic choices. I moved to Sydney just a little bit too late to see her previous Tosca for Opera Australia, so when they announced her for the 2010 season, I had to prepare myself. And since I knew I'd be unwilling, in the immediate wake of her Tosca, to listen to anybody else's, I figured I'd better listen to plenty of them beforehand. So I did. I was buying (or acquiring) a new Tosca every week or so, listening to it constantly, getting to know that thing inside out — and then she cancelled on me.

For those of you who used to read my previous blog (is that most of you?) this is ancient history, of course. Cheryl pulled out of the show and was replaced by Takesha Meshé Kizart. Christopher Alden's modern, plot-altering production divided audiences; I liked it a lot on first and second viewings, but after five shows and two casts, never really need to see it ever again. I'd immersed myself in Tosca for the sake of Cheryl, but as it turned out, it was immersion for its own sake — and a good thing too. Soprano devotion might not be the loftiest, most intellectual incentive for study ever, but it's sure as hell an effective one. 

When all's said and done, though, the sting of missing out on Cheryl's Tosca has never fully faded. To be fair, I've been spoilt rotten with opportunities to hear my favourite soprano — nearly sixty times now, I think — so I can hardly complain — but every time I listen to some Tosca, I remember. Which is why I'm oh so happy to have been given a second chance. Cheryl stars in Opera Queensland's Tosca in October this year, and despite my having made the curious decision to leave the country in which my Number One Diva resided, I won't miss this one. I have tickets for two performances, October 20th and 22nd. The production is John Copley's much-loved and very traditional staging — the one Opera Australia shunted out in favour of the Alden, and the kind of show which ought to be a wonderfully blank canvas for Cheryl's towering gift for characterisation. 

Colour me happy. This doesn't entirely blot out the pain of missing her Capriccio, which opens in Sydney in just a few weeks — I still hate pretty much everyone who's going to see her as Madeleine — but given a choice between the two, it had to be Tosca, right? Of course it did. 

Happy Tosca Day, everyone. If you've made it this far, here's some Corelli for you.

Desert Island Discs Ahoy!

69 years, almost 3000 shows, more music selections than my brain can process ... and now it's all online. The BBC's new Desert Island Discs website is my New Favourite Thing.

This is an exhaustive and beautifully cross-referenced archive of every guest, all of their musical selections, their book of choice and their one luxury item. It's magnificently searchable. Limit your search to a name, musical selection, book or luxury item, or just search everything. Or browse by occupation (hundreds of keywords), presenter, gender (797 women, 2062 men, are we really surprised?) or whether the program is available to listen to online — over 500 of them already are. 

It gets niftier. Search a composer or artist, and each guest who picked them is listed, with the relevant selection alongside — and ranked in order of frequency. Which means I can tell you, for instance, that Rita Hunter and Enoch Powell hold the joint record for Most Wagner, with four selections (out of eight) each. Read one person's selections, and each entry comes with a link to see ALL guests who chose that artist/composer/author/luxury item. Who shares Mirella Freni's love for the Latin American folk group Inti-Illimani? Why, Emma Thompson, of course, thirty-three years later. 

I am in database love. I've always been a fan of this show — it combines music and list-making, what's not to like — and seeing it all catalogued like this is just, well, cool. Also addictive. I can't stop trawling it. 

So I now know that both Roberto Alagna and Isobel Baillie would take a guitar to their island (as would Colin Firth), that Anthony Rolfe Johnson wanted "a parquet floor and tap shoes", that Janet Baker loves Jane Austen's Persuasion like I do, and that Beverly Sills's #1 choice of music was Ljuba Welitsch singing Salome. I know that only Imelda Staunton and Bernard Cornwell would take my favourite singer, Alison Krauss with them, and that they'd both take the same song. 

Speaking of my favourites, 34 guests selected something by Janacek, and most of them had something to do with opera or the arts in general. 152 went for a bit of Britten — including Peter Pears, whose second appearance saw him choose only music by himself, Ben, or both of them. And Richard Strauss? 218 fans, of whom 28 picked the trio from Rosenkavalier. 5 of them chose "Grossmächtige Prinzessin"; nobody chose "Es gibt ein Reich." Figaro outranks Cosi and Don Giovanni and Kristin Scott Thomas likes Strauss's "Morgen", as if we needed more proof of her greatness.

All Three Tenors picked a Caruso track, and so did Jon Vickers and Roald Dahl. Joanna Lumley and Jennifer Saunders both included some Wagner: Tannhäuser overture and Parsifal Act I Prelude respectively. Stephen Sondheim has appeared twice, twenty years apart, and has not wavered in his choice of book: the works of E.B. White. Anthony Horowitz likes Tippet and Britten. John Cleese wants to take "Michael Palin - stuffed" as his luxury item. In 1953, Geraldine McEwan was a Paul Robeson fan; asked again today, she might change one of her song choices. And yes, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf famously picked only recordings of herself, but five years later, Birgit Nilsson came very close to doing the same.

I must stop. This is already far more than anybody other than myself could find interesting. The point is, I (obviously) recommend this site to your attention. Amuse yourself for a few minutes  — or, as in my case, an entire day. It's not perfect: there's a bug and an error here or there, which is hardly surprising and easily forgiven. (My favourite is a cataloguing glitch which has all Debussy's works, regardless of pianist, credited as compositions by James Rhodes.) But it's such an impressive achievement and So. Much. Fun.

And now, for having come this far (if anyone actually has!) here's a thematically appropriate musical reward. Patricia Petibon with an aria from Haydn's L'isola disabitata.

Citric illumination

No sooner did I blog, vaguely, about re-invention, than an opportunity for exactly that came along. As of Monday, I'm blogging for Limelight Magazine's new, shiny and oh-so-extensive online presence. You can read my first post here, and there's more to come. Expect more frequent posts – if sometimes rather shorter and sweeter – than have been lately been the norm around here, and probably some changes in style and content. 

As I've already said over there, I don't yet know how my new and old blogs will interact or differ; for all I know, the two might eventually become one, or I might just find that each is best suited to different purposes. I'm not going to lay out a set of predictions or intentions now, because my experience of blogging so far has taught me that those sorts of things rarely pan out. I'm going to let both blogs shape themselves, and see what happens.

Anyway, I hope you'll join me chez Limelight. And while you're there, take a look around the rest of the site, which is pretty darn nifty.  

 

Happy New Everything

And suddenly, again, it's almost a month since I posted anything here. The pattern shouldn't surprise me any more at this point, I suppose. I'm sure it doesn't surprise you; or at least, those of you still checking in. I know from my nifty blog stat counter that the traffic here has taken a significant dive, and rightly so. There's not much to see here these days, is there?

It's been pretty obvious for the last six months or so that I'm blogging significantly less, and I daresay many of you – certainly those of you who are my Facebook friends or follow my Twitter feed – have probably figured out why. The non-bloggish bits of my life have been changing quite drastically (for the better) and for various reasons – practical, personal and geographical – this blog has tended to fall by the wayside. Apart from anything else, I've been away from Australia quite a lot, which, added to the fact that OA's been in Melbourne since November anyway, has made it hard to maintain a flow of Sydney-based operatic content. 

That's only going to get harder, too. Two days after Christmas, I hit the road with my new partner-in-crime and to all intents and purposes, I no longer live in Sydney. After four years there, it's still home – or at least one of my homes – but I've forsaken my 9 to 5 job (not to mention, sigh, the joy of living in the same city as my favouritest soprano in the world ever) in favour of the travelling operatic lifestyle. So there's still going to be a whole lot of opera in my life. It just won't be in Australia. And I won't be functioning as a critic now, although I do still intend to write about it. And, well, quite a lot of it will be Wagner. 

Right now I'm in London, and I'll be here till mid-March. Then it's New York, Zurich, Santa Fe and a few German cities, with trips back to various homelands interspersed between those big blocks of travel. Insane as ever, I plan to maintain my devotion to above-mentioned favouritest soprano as far as possible: I'll see Cheryl later this month in the LSO's concert of Elgar's The Kingdom and then, if all goes to plan, in both the Sydney season of Capriccio and Opera Queensland's Tosca. And with a bit of precision timing, I might even manage one of Peter CW's Macbeths. 

I know. It's a hard life. I'm pretty thrilled about it, in all sorts of ways, though there are  definitely adjustments to be made. What it all means for this blog, however – whether in terms of style, content, frequency, or anything else – I'm still not entirely certain. The intermittence of the last six months may continue, or I might find that the sudden abundance of amazing performances within reach sets me blogging more furiously than ever. Or maybe there's a happy medium. Or maybe I'm heading for reinvention; the thought of a whole new blog, with an adjusted (though still primarily operatic) slant has been on my mind quite a bit lately. 

We shall see. In the meantime, apologies for my slackness in recent month and thanks for still checking in. I hope I'll settle into a new (or the old) blogging rhythm before too long, and if you care to stick around to see that happen, that would be brilliant. 

Wie schön ist die Prinzessin

I have been waiting forever for somebody to post just this song — and not the surrounding nine minutes of second rate MGM comedy — to YouTube, so now that somebody has, I have to embed. It's only tangentially blog-related, but there is a link, and besides, it's brilliant. And Virginia O'Brien deserves to have her praises sung in every possible outlet. Enjoy.

Début

Modesty is all well and good, but not tonight. Tonight I am showing off and there's no point disguising it. I showed off on Twitter and on Facebook and now I'm doing it here, because frankly I'm a bit excited and what is this blog's raison d'être, after all, if not the sharing of my excitement? 

Anyway, to cut a medium-length story short, the July issue of Limelight magazine came out today and I'm here to point out to you — having told, I suspect, almost none of you beforehand — that there is a feature by in it by yours truly. It's called "10 Great Operas (you probably haven't heard)" and it does what it says on the tin. It's a selection of ten fabulous obscurities, from Vivaldi to Britten via Schreker and Strauss. This is what it looks like from a distance.

For a close-up, well, you'll just have to buy the magazine, won't you? It was a lot of fun — and delightfully challenging — choosing my ten. And if just one person falls for Djamileh on my recommendation then I'll feel my Work Is Done. (Or Die Gezeichneten. I know it's insane but oh, how I'd love to see that opera done here. Mr T? I'll love you forever if you do it...)

Moving on. There is actually a little bit more. The cover story is a feature on today's 12 greatest singers — three sopranos, three mezzos, three tenors, three baritones/basses, voted on by "a panel of singers, industry professionals, critics and Limelight readers". First of all, they let me be on the panel, which I probably enjoyed slightly too much. And then in the end, when the results were in, I co-wrote the article profiling the winners. Shan't tell you which bits are mine but maybe you'll be able to tell. 

Anyway. That's my news. Proof that even if I haven't been writing much here lately, I have been writing. It's been (as you might have gathered) a bit exciting. Something of a milestone, really. And since everything like this that happens can ultimately be traced back to this blog — which somehow I have been maintaining for six-going-on-seven years — well, of course I had to share. 

Filler

Once upon a time  I lived in a city with almost no live opera at all and yet managed to blog copiously and constantly. But Opera Australia has apparently robbed me of such self-sufficiency, and when they abscond to Melbourne, my blogging muse — or most of her — seems to go with them. Shouldn't happen, hopefully one day won't happen, but in the meantime, I apologise for my recent comparative silence. 

Not that I imagine you've all been pining away for me.  But I can see from my site stats that traffic is not at its usual levels and I have to figure said silence is at least partially responsible for that. But I'm not dead, and I'm pretty sure the blog is unkillable, so we'll get back on track soon — probably once the opera season starts again, which is either on June 28th or July 14th, depending on your point of view.

Or perhaps even sooner. I have a pile of press releases and a subscription brochure sitting beside me and taunting me — not to mention my own hopes, fears and expectations for the coming season — so I wonder if an anticipatory post, or even a series of them, might be fun. Actually I had thought of writing something of the sort tonight, but given the time and my, um, expansive tendencies, this would probably not be wise. Maybe on the weekend though. 

For now, if you'd like to offer your own thoughts about the Sydney winter season in the comments, please, be my guest. And I promise my next post will be — or at least try to be — more interesting than this. 

Allerta

Towards the end of March, while knee-deep in Bliss, I was interviewed by the lovely Annarosa Berman for Opera Australia's email newsletter, Allerta! We talked obsession, #donotmissBliss and fairy godmothers, among other things. That interview is now online, so if you're so inclined, you can read it here. 

Welcome to anyone who's discovering this blog for the first time on account of the article. If my brand of madness suits you, I hope you'll stick around. And to the party faithful, I promise something semi-substantive in the near future. Though I should warn you, it will probably be about Bliss. 

Hatched plots

Entries for #operaplot 2010 closed while I was in the sky, en route to closing night of Bliss. Like several others, I suffered from an irritating little bout of writer's (twitterer's?) block this time: the compositional ease which surprised me in last year's efforts seemed to evaporate this time round. But in the end I scraped together eighteen entries — thirteen new ones, plus five of my favourites from last year. 

So here they all are, my 140-character creations, in the order I tweeted them. I haven't included titles for the moment; guessing's part of the fun, and I think most of them are pretty self-evident. 

1. Ad man, lucky man, ladies' man. Dead man, changed man, madman. New man, green man, Honey's man. Good man. It's bliss, man.  

2. Betty's a Bitch, Johnny's a Jerk, Lucy's a Leftie, David's a Dealer. Honey's a Hooker-with-a-Heart. But Harry? He's just a Joy.

3. Wife & beekeeper battle for immortal soul of tracksuited Dante. Children, unwisely, are left to their own devices.

4. So Hell isn't just les autres; it's les autres in 80s clothes, having inappropriate sex as an elephant crushes your f*cking car. [I just know I'm going to pay for this one in search engine referrals...]

5. Ten years later, Brett Dean's elaborate excuse to make Peter Coleman-Wright grow a moustache finally pays off. 

And just when you thought I was incapable of #operaplotting anything other than Bliss...

6. Big sis gets Mr Right. Little sis gets Mr RightWellIThoughtYouWereABoyButSinceYou'reAGirl
AndYourSister'sTakenIGuessYou'llDo! [FYI the last bit was all one word when I tweeted it, but evidently Typepad can't cope with that sort of formatting.]

7. Unrequited lover's talent for maudlin poetry is dwarfed by his spectacular gift for RUINING Christmas. 

8. Noble lady trapped in harem of surprisingly complex Pasha. Will her fiancé get to her before Stockholm syndrome does?

9. Conversational Countess makes prevarication quite literally an artform. Blame it on the moonlight. 

10. Contestant on macabre Hungarian gameshow ignores all hints from the host and opens one mystery door too many.

11. Old? Tired? Inspiration fading? Book a Venetian Getaway today! Hotel/transport/barber included. Allegorical references extra. 

12. Mother-in-law from hell drives son's frustrated young wife into the arms of another, into madness, and into the Volga.

13. Boatsman's neglected wife takes up with burly stevedore. Brief, bloody tale of jealousy, regret & in Seine passion. 

14. Hey Jude/Don't be afraid/You were made to go out & get him/The minute you get into his tent/You know you're meant/To kill him. 

15. It's just like The Sound of Music, but with ghosts & Freudian angst instead of schmaltz & Nazis. And the kids are even creepier.

16. I CAN HAS TEH HEAD OV JOHN TEH BAPTIST?

17. Able seaman and troubled soul departs gossip's gutters, stumbles into stormy seas while gazing at the stars.

18. Amatory lepidopterist traps fragile specimen among Nagasaki cherry blossoms. Fumbling to release her, he crushes her instead. [My final effort from last year too, and still my favourite.]

You can see the full list of entries — and help out by claiming some orphans — at The Omniscient Mussel. 

Competitions!

It seemed like a title worthy of an exclamation mark. Substantive blogging remains an elusive prospect (sorry) but in the meantime I have not one, but two competitions to plug, both of which you — yes, you — should enter, or at least enjoy keeping track of.

 Competition #1 — Opera Australia's #donotmissBliss poster competition

Bliss, as we know, opened in Melbourne last night. There are only three performances left. So to encourage Melburnians to spread the word, Opera Australia is running a competition with which I am in love. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to pick up a Bliss poster from the Opera Centre (cnr Fawkner & Fanning Streets, Southbank, 9-5 Mon-Fri) or from the OA service desk at the Arts Centre (which is open from 6.30pm on performance nights) and take it further afield to promote Bliss as creatively as possible. Take a photo of your poster and email or tweet it to Opera Australia by 5pm on April 30th. Their favourite photo wins a double pass to any opera in the Spring season. 

You can read all the information here. As I say, I just adore this idea and wish the same competition had been run in Sydney. And in fact ... well, let's just say I'm hatching a plan to involve myself in this bit of Bliss madness too. Watch this space. And if you're in Melbourne, enter, and spread the Joy!

 Competition #2 — The return of #operaplot

Oh yes. It's back. Summarise the opera of your choice (or ten of them, in fact) within a single tweet. It was wonderful fun last time, and now Miss Mussel is bringing it back, with an increasingly fabulous prize pool and — are you ready? — JONAS KAUFMANN judging the entries. You can read all about it here. You will have to sign up to Twitter to enter, but don't let that put you off. You can always quit again once the competition is over; and who knows, you might like it — it was the last #operaplot competition which compelled me to start tweeting, and look what happened. The fun kicks off on April 26th. Hope to see some of you there. (And Australians, let's try and make sure Bliss is represented, shall we? Not that I suppose Jonas will know what we're on about, but the opera deserves it just the same.) 

London Calling

Just a quick break from my all-encompassing Blissfulness to link to some Australians doing Good Stuff back in the mother country.

1. Stuart Skelton in an appallingly appealing Kat'a Kabanova. It's at the ENO. Stuart is Boris, opposite the Kat'a of (cue sighing) Patricia Racette. The production is by David Alden, brother of Christopher, of Tosca fame. And here's the bit that will set Grimey hearts even further aflutter — Mark Wigglesworth conducts. Stuart, Patricia, Wigglesworth, Janacek. Has your head exploded yet? Information, trailer, images and so on at the ENO website. Too many reviews to link to, so have a Google News link instead. And The Guardian has a fantastic interview with the very articulate and fascinating Stuart.

2. Emma Matthews' Covent Garden début. What is it with Australians and Janacek? At long last Emma has made her London splash, in the title role of The Cunning Little Vixen. Charles Mackerras, King of Janacek, conducts. There were dramas on opening night, with Emma Bell (who was to have sung the Fox) admitted to hospital the previous day for an emergency appendectomy, but all seems to have turned out pretty nicely in the end for our Emma. MusicOMH has a nice interview, and again, Google is better than I am at aggregating reviews.

3. This one is further in the future. Opera Holland Park's Charity Gala in honour of Richard Bonynge's 80th Birthday. There will be celebrations here in Australia, too, of course, but meanwhile the line-up for this gala is fairly bursting with fabulous Antipodeans — Yvonne Kenny, Conal Coad, Aldo Di Toro, Julian Gavin and, um, Cheryl Barker are all on the list. OHP has a good track record with Australian singers. It was in their Fedora that I first heard Aldo (singing opposite Yvonne) and of course I'm off there myself in August to see Cheryl and Julian in Francesca da Rimini, whose cast also includes Australian baritone Jeffrey Black and New Zealand's Own Anna Leese. Now is probably also a good time to point out that Opera Holland Park's very entertaining blog has been revived.

Now We Are Six

 

I was up far too late last night, doing I know not what, and it suddenly hit me — I'd completely forgotten this blog's sixth birthday. Yes, believe it or not — I still can't — Prima la musica has lasted more than half a decade without even a single hiatus. I think it's a milestone worth marking, however belatedly. And seeing as, way back on that very first day, one of the reasons I gave for starting an opera blog was that nobody other than the ether wanted to hear me "rhapsodise about Cecilia Bartoli as Donna Elvira", what better way to celebrate the occasion than with Cecilia Bartoli as Donna Elvira? 

So here she is, in the Zurich Opera production conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt. Six years ago, I knew practically nothing, and had no idea what an unusual tempo this is. Now I can hear how very slow (and how very Harnoncourt) it is, but it really doesn't matter; I love this as much now as I did then. 

Various

I haven't done one of these for a while — you can thank Twitter for that — but it seems vaguely warranted, since I'm having one of those phases of too much to see and too little time to write about it.

• The Manon I had planned for this evening didn't eventuate — it all just got too difficult — so the proper post I hope to write about it will have to wait. Not that I imagine anyone's desperately hanging out for it, but for my own peace of mind, I like to get these things written up. Eventually. And I will see it again, if for no other reason than the second half of this Mad Scene discussion.
  
• Opening night of La traviata was predictably successful; a lovely evening of excellent singing and visual overload. I might love the production less if the cast were less effective; but here, cast and staging complement each other very nicely, and the result, while hardly revelatory, is nevertheless far from dull. 
  
• Besides, this La traviata has Aldo Di Toro as Alfredo, a performance I'm hopelessly in love with. You just have to hear him. 
  
• Speaking of tenors, I feel I owe Rosario La Spina yet another word of praise. I went to the matinée of Tosca today — my third performance so far — and he was still sounding excellent, and still doing the best work I've seen from him. I don't know if it's I or he who has changed — or a bit of both, or just the repertoire — but I hope it's permanent. I could get used to Rosario giving performances like this.
  
• What is it with me and tenors at the moment?
  
• Not just tenors, though. Today's Tosca was further confirmation that every time I see this opera (and this staging) it belongs even more to Scarpia. John Wegner is amazing. This afternoon I even stood for him.
  
• I also stood for Takesha. Until a dessicated old man behind me poked me in the back and ordered me to sit down and stop blocking his view. I don't know about you, but I really don't consider this appropriate behaviour. I wimped out and sat down again, but I'm regretting it now, and if I find myself in his vicinity again, I might be tempted to stand just for the sake of it. 

Nel tuo friends network s'annida Scarpia

It was only a matter of time. Floria Tosca and Vitellio Scarpia — and their complicated relationship — made their début on Facebook this week. So if, like me, you can't get enough of Tosca — and you share my love of opera geekery — you might like to stop by their profiles and follow their exploits. You'll find Tosca here, and Scarpia here. And for those not Facebookishly inclined (I know there are a few of you) here are a few snippets of the geekish fun. (Click thumbnail to view.)

  

And because some truths are so universal that they bring together even sworn enemies, you'll also find Vitellio and Floria as co-admins of an admirable Facebook group called John Wegner is awesome. If you agree with that sentiment (and who wouldn't?) then you might consider joining. 

Good tidings

I'm a day late with this, but since I neglected this year to post the usual Christmas Eve video advent calender, I thought I ought at least to post one semi-seasonal video. So here's an honorary Australian, the divine Susan Gritton, singing "I know that my redeemer liveth". Happy (belated) Christmas, everyone. 

In review

Inevitably, as the end of the year rolls around, I clamber once again aboard the year-in-review bandwagon. How can I resist? I like lists and I like awarding laurels. But I also like procrastinating, and as a result tend to end up staying awake impossibly late on New Year's Eve, cobbling together an impossibly long overview of everything I've loved during the previous 365 days. 

So this year I'm going to try and break that particular habit, and also make up for what you might call the insufficient postage of the past few weeks. Rather than wait until the 31st, the plan is to write daily "year-in-review" posts on various themes. I know, I know, good intentions, road to hell and so on — just look how quickly my NaBloPoMo plans were derailed — but a girl can try. 

But I'll immediately justify that lurking pessimism by ending before I've begun — at least for tonight. I had intended to post the first of these themed retrospectives tonight, but time has got away from me (and Christmas retail has exhausted me) so I think I will opt for silence over incoherence and leave it here for the moment. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. 

In the meantime, if you've a suggestion for a possible theme, do let me know. Ideas currently swirling about in my head include CDs and DVDs, discoveries and revelations, rising stars, moments of glory, coups de théâtre and my Singers of the Year; if there's anything else you think I ought to cover, I'd love to hear it. And let's hope I haven't just jinxed my own good intentions by articulating them. 

...und wieder schnell ist er schon gar nichts mehr für mich!

Oh dear. Things must be getting bad in the Waldner household — Arabella has taken to writing to mX for advice. 
 

 

 I bet "Honest" is Zdenka.

Various

Well, you know what they say about good intentions. I could claim that signing up for NaBloPoMo was what cursed me, but I ought really to blame my own hopelessness for the fact that nearly a week has passed and I've not blogged a single word. Not that I imagine this frustrates anyone as much as it does me, but it does frustrate me — so here I am. And yet inspiration is still lagging behind, so all I can offer for now is a few bullet points. They'll fill the gap, and I hope to be back shortly — maybe even tonight! — with something a little more substantial. 
 

• A few newspaper articles are worth pointing out, in case you've not seen them already. "Opera Australian?" has a range of views from Richard Mills, Andrew Ford and others about the appointment of Lyndon Terracini and the future of Opera Australia. In the SMH, Marcus Westbury asks if we should be funding opera; and The Age has a response from Richard Gill, who, by the way, now has a characteristically entertaining blog. 
• Meanwhile, The Australian brings us the unhappy news that Lisa Gasteen's neck injury might have stopped her singing for good. The only time I've heard Lisa live was in one aria at Opera Australia's 50th Anniversary Gala. I've always just assumed I'd hear her in an opera one day; now it looks like maybe not. Which would be a real shame. So fingers crossed she'll find a way back.
• Speaking of Lisa, I note that Opera Australia has yet to announce her replacement as Minnie in La fanciulla del West. And apart from Anthony Warlow, we still don't seem to have a cast for Pirates of Penzance. Come on, OA, enquiring minds want to know.
• A quick word of kudos to all involved in the concert at St Luke's in Roseville on Wednesday evening. A group of Con opera school students presented Figaro highlights and miscellaneous arias. I only found out about it a few hours before it started, but I'm glad I did, it was really very fun. Especially the chance to hear the two German exchange students Simone Lerch and Franziska Guendert (Franziska's Letter Scene from Werther was particularly fabulous); not to mention a pretty amazing "Dove sono" from Ali Manifold and much baritonal hilarity from David Hidden and Javier Vilarino.
• Finally, let me once again plug The Mad Scene, our new(ish) Facebook group devoted to operatic insanity both here in Sydney and further afield. We've changed address since the initial announcement — the vagaries of Facebook mean we work better as a Page than a Group — but meanwhile the madness continues, and if you haven't joined in yet, well, you should. Number obsessive that I am, I'm hoping we can make it to 100 members by the end of the year.

And for my next trick ... I'm not entirely certain. If all else fails, I'm considering running a random "My Favourite Singers" series and just effusing over various objects of my devotion. Suggestions welcome. There's Pinchgut's L'Ormindo on the horizon too, of course; and if you or somebody you know has a concert coming up, do let me know — I'm obviously in need of an opera fix, however small. I might even consider Messiah. 

NaBloPoMo

You might notice that a little black and white badge has materialised in the sidebar. I've jumped on the National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo) bandwagon, which means that theoretically I'll be posting something every day this month. You know how I feel about bandwagons. But lately my bloggish activities have slowed almost to a halt the moment Opera Australia decamps to Melbourne, and this won't do — so I'm hoping that extra sense of obligation which NaBloPoMo provides might help to keep me writing. We'll see. And I think this counts as today's post.

Meanwhile, keep those Grimes reflections coming. I'll probably start collating them on Wednesday evening.  

Not really a post

Forgive my long(ish) silence, if indeed it has bothered you in the first place. I am not dead, nor even comatose. But the last couple of weeks have been what you might call trying. Opera, theatre, a trip to New Zealand and sundry, less artistic distractions have all played their part, and in amongst it all, I produced both a Fine Music cover story and an insanely elaborate birthday card — both of which came at the cost of a good night's sleep. 

However, I will be back very soon. Tomorrow evening I hope (if all goes to plan) with a review of NZ Opera's Eugene Onegin, which was the reason for my trip. Meanwhile, of course, the two or three of you who notice such things might be aware that I've not posted properly about OA's Cosi. I meant to, and kept meaning to, but at this point — nearly two weeks since I saw it — I think my recollections are a bit hazy. So, since I intend to see it again in mid-October, I'm breaking with tradition and leaving the long, rambling post until then. Seems the best idea; not least because the longer I think about the show, the more I want to say, so at least this way I can say it all at once and not repeat myself. If you're especially keen for some of my quasi-detailed thoughts on Cosi, though, you could always read my review for The Opera Critic.

I'm sure I'm flattering myself when I feel pangs of guilt for going a week without blogging. Lives go on. But just at the level of pure self-indulgence, I do miss it, even after such a relatively short absence. See you soon.

Winterson of my discontent

Since I can't seem to think of anything to write about, I might as well argue with Jeanette Winterson. That's not an obscure figure of speech: I really do have a bone to pick with her. Flicking through this month's Gramophone, I came across Jeanette's (sorry, I don't feel scholarly enough tonight to call her "Winterson) little article at the back, the usual "Classical Music and Me" kind of spot. It's pretty innocuous stuff and this is not some kind of vitriolic taking to task. She likes Wagner and Natalie Clein and other things and good for her; she's just edited a collection of opera-themed short stories (called Midsummer Nights) so I suppose in some ways she and I are probably kindred spirits.

But. There's one comment she makes which bothered me. And it still bothers me. She said she detests (I think that was her word — I don't have the magazine here to check) surtitles in opera. She thinks they get in the way of what she deems the essential experience of opera, which she describes as "surrendering". Even leaving aside for now the obvious absurdity of trying to encapsulate the operatic experience in a single concept, let alone a single word — not to mention the mistake of imagining that what you consider the essence of opera is, or should be, the essence of everybody else's experience too — I cannot entirely comprehend this wholesale dismissal of surtitles.

She thinks they get in the way. And she says, blithely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, that you don't really need them anyway, because you can figure out what's going on onstage by reading up on the story beforehand. (I'm paraphrasing here, but only slightly.) I confess, I am amazed. I would have thought of all people, a writer, somebody to whom the sublime complexity language is presumably a vital concern, would see that surtitles have a great deal to offer. Maybe they can  present an occasional visual or mental obstacle, but let's not forget the huge obstacle they clear away — as far as possible, they remove the language barrier. 

Surtitles allow us to appreciate more than just the broad strokes which a synopsis provides: they give us all the detail. Yes, the music on its own says a hell of a lot  — I'd never say otherwise — but there is a reason opera uses music and words. The words — the specific words which that librettist chose and that composer set, the words which that character is singing and that singer is interpreting — matter. And OK, maybe they don't matter to everybody as much as they do to me. Despite the title of this blog, I've no desire to rehash the ancient parole/musica argument, and having admonished Jeanette for doing so, I'm not now going to try and tell you that my approach to opera should be everybody else's. I'm extremely surprised, though, that she's happy to dismiss surtitles like this without admitting even the possibility of their contributing in a very meaningful and life-enhancing way to the operatic experience of many people. 

What I really can't get over is her suggestion that the purpose of surtitles can be served equally well by merely boning up on the plot ahead of time. As if a broad strokes understanding of the story were all that anyone could need. As if all the complex dialogue or lyric poetry or punning wit of a libretto (even a mediocre one) serve to do is add a bit more detail to a story whose full richness can still be understood from a programme note or your handy Grove. Would Jeanette suggest that reading the Wikipedia synopsis of Pride & Prejudice is as rich an experience as reading the novel, or that downloading a pixelated Artchive image of an Ingres is as good as seeing it in a gallery? Should we check IMDb and then watch foreign films without subtitles? Are the Cliffs Notes all we need after all? No, I don't for a moment imagine she'd advocate anything of the sort. An appreciation of the details, and of the style in which those details are realised, can vastly enhance our appreciation of the whole. In opera, surtitles are a fantastic way to reveal those details, and yet she urges their removal. It's beyond me.

Just think what we would lose if we functioned along the lines she's apparently suggesting. The poetic humanity of the Marschallin's "Da geht er hin". The ins and outs of Gregor v Prus. The contradictory yet curiously well-rhymed sentiments of a Rossini ensemble. The jokes in Figaro — imagine the poor singers, too, performing a comedy to an audience who can only laugh at visual humour. Even the most shameless showpiece of a rum-ti-tum bel canto rondo e scena makes a bit more sense when we can understand more than just a vague emotion, and what's the good of an old-fashioned "Sangue!" if we don't know what that man shaking his fist is actually bellowing? It's true that all of these things can be appreciated without surtitles — if one understands the language. And many of us do, whether by study or osmosis. That's not necessarily an option for everybody or at every moment, though; surtitles ensure that all the thrills of a nuanced operatic text are available to everybody who wants or needs them. 

Maybe reading them does prevent the exact romantic "surrender" which Jeanette desires (and requires?) but her surrender is not necessarily yours or mine, nor is surrender necessarily what we're seeking. I also have trouble agreeing that reading does absolutely prohibit fullblown intoxication. And if it does, you can always just not read them. There's no need to dislike them or wish them away — they're not compulsory, so just ignore them. Lord knows, I do. Most of the seats I book don't let me see them anyway. If it's something I'm particularly obsessed with, then I'll do my best to learn the text beforehand: that, for me, is the only real replacement for surtitles. 

Whether I do without them or not, and whether I can see them or not, I'm very happy indeed that they're there. 

Opera isn't what I say it is, or what Jeanette Winterson says it is, or in fact what anybody says it is. It's whatever you, in the moment, know it is. There are all kinds of ways and means to appreciate it, to understand it, to love it madly. Surtitles are now an important part of that for a lot of people. I believe their potential to enrich the operatic experience far outweighs their potential to distract. Jeanette believes otherwise. But at least my blogging drought is broken at last. Take that, Winterson. 

Les oiseaux dans la charmille

This is just a quick note to officially acknowledge what you've probably already noticed: after a long period of resistance, I have finally succumbed (thanks mostly to the #operaplot experience) to the dark pit of addiction that is Twitter. I don't blame you if you disapprove. All I will say in my defence — and you might have suspected as much from its inclusion in the sidebar — is that I promise not to use it to broadcast the minutiae of my boring domestic existence. My plan is to restrict my Twittering (that might not be the correct verb — I'm very new at this) to matters at least tangentially operatic: all the little thoughts and links and bits of trivia which are either too brief to blog about at all, or which end up buried in list posts under the heading "Various". Otherwise I doubt it will have much effect on either the frequency or content of my usual blogging. So there it is. Prima la musica has entered the Twittersphere and you are welcome — but most certainly not obliged — to follow me there. 

Plots thicken

After weeks of resistance, I finally succumbed last night to the operablogosphere's latest craze, The Omniscient Mussel's #operaplot game. For the 3 people in the world who've not heard about it yet, the idea is briefly this: via Twitter, summarise an opera in no more than 130 characters. The competition has been running for a while now and closes tomorrow afternoon Sydney time. The initial limit of 10 entries per person has now been lifted, but since the ideas haven't been flowing nearly as easily for me as they apparently have for some others, I think 10 will do for now. And since I'm at a loss right now for anything decent and substantial to blog about, I'm afraid I will fall back on old tricks and offer a list in lieu of content. 

So, with apologies for any and all cringeworthiness, my #operaplot contributions are as follows:

1. Soluble, voluble sprite prays to moon for love. Gets wish and legs. Loses voice and the boy. Comes to a Grimm end. 

2. It's just like The Sound of Music, but with ghosts & Freudian angst instead of schmaltz & Nazis. And the kids are even creepier.

3. Contestant on macabre Hungarian gameshow ignores all hints from the host and opens one mystery door too many.

4. PTSD victim? Shampoo ad? Bluebeard's ex? Or maybe she's just not that into you. Ask your brother.

5. 19yo SWF seeks Croat 4 marriage of love/convenience. No ties except 1 v. confused sister. R U my Mr Right? Photo on request.

6. Treehugger jilts transvestite & chases brother's girl. Girl's sister helps: she wants the brother. Springer: The Opera? Not yet.

7. Noble lady trapped in harem of surprisingly complex Pasha. Will her fiancé get to her before Stockholm syndrome does?

8. Mother-in-law from hell drives her son's frustrated young wife into the arms of another, into madness and into the Volga.

9. Parisian mistress rings ex for long and painful chat. Kills herself when she realises he'll never pay her phone bill again. 

10. Amatory lepidopterist traps fragile specimen among Nagasaki cherry blossoms. Fumbling to release her, he crushes her instead.

Meanwhile...

...bass Richard Alexander has found the best use yet for Bunnings. 

...finals of the Lexus Song Quest will be held in Auckland tonight, with Siegfried Jerusalem adjudicating. Serious brownie points to anybody who manages to get the results to me before they make it to Google News.

...reviews for Opera Australia's new production in Melbourne of Bellini's I Capuleti e i Montecchi are appearing and are mostly positive. See: The Australian | The Age | Australian Stage Online

...congrats to New Zealand's Own Anna Leese ^TM for a successful Canadian début as Musetta for the Canadian Opera Company and a warmly received new recital disc of Haydn songs. 

...the always wonderful Jacqui Dark has made it (as Aksinya in Lady M) to Opera Chic.

...this will seem like a question out of nowhere, but does anybody know what became of the Sydney Symphony's plans to release the recording of their 2007 Don John of Austria on CD? Presumably they've been scrapped, which is hardly surprising, I suppose, but a shame nevertheless. I'd have loved a permanent souvenir of such an entertaining evening, and am still kicking myself for missing the radio broadcast. But perhaps I'm the only one.

Green Room Awards

Winners were announced last night. Not surprisingly, Opera Australia won eight of ten categories in the opera division and half of those — quite rightly — were for the divine Arabella. It shares the Best Production award alongside Victorian Opera's L'incoronazione di Poppea and also won John Cox the Best Direction prize for John Cox. (His Un ballo di maschera is cited too, but that was a revival rehearsed by Luise Napier and come on, it's all about Arabella.)  Amelia Farrugia is best supporting female for her turn as Oscar in Ballo, while Kanen Breen picks best supporting male for both his Cassio (Otello) and his Elemer (Arabella) — personally I'd give it to him just for Cassio, but the more nods for Arabella the better. It also received awards for scenery and costumes (Robert Perdziola) and lighting (Donn Byrnes). Best new operatic work is Alan John's Through the Looking Glass  (with libretto by Andrew Upton), staged by Victorian Opera in collaboration with the Malthouse Theatre. Best conductor, interestingly enough, is for a real rarity: Peter Tregear, who led IOpera's production of the Duchess Anna Amalia's Erwin und Elmire. But of course I've saved my personal best for last. Best Male in a Leading Role is — who else? — Jonathan Summers as Iago. And Best Female in a Leading Role? Why, it's the one and only Cheryl Barker. Bravi tutti.

See the full list of nominees and recipients here.

Various

I am slowly drifting back to earth now after my excursion into the Cherylsphere (thank you for putting up with me) and feel inclined to blog about something else for a change. And yet, nothing substantial occurs to me for the moment, though there are a few good prospects on the horizon. In the meantime, if only to remind myself of the big wide world, let's just have a good old fashioned bullet pointed miscellany.

• The six finalists for this year's Lexus Song Quest (New Zealand's most significant singing competitions) have been announced. No Dunedinites this year, so I have heard none of the six live, but most of the names are familiar. Most of the buzz I hear seems to be about Aivale Cole, who was nominated for a Helpmann last year and has recently made an auspicious début with the West Australian Opera as Aida. Julia Booth was recently singled out for praise in a competition review in NZ Opera News and she definitely wins the Best Website prize. Kristen Darragh is NZ Opera's 2009 Young Artist. Andrew Glover and Polly Ott are both new names to me: Glover is a London-based tenor, while Ott, at 21, is the youngest of the finalists, with the kind of choral background which has stood so many finalists and winners of this competition in such good stead. Wade Kernot was runner-up in the 2007 Song Quest and has been winning numerous accolades elsewhere; he also has a (slightly untidy) website.  The competition website provides clips of all six singers in action, with piano accompaniment. Based on just those samples (which I know from experience are not a wonderful indication, and are made all the worse by my tinny laptop speakers) my favourite is Kernot by far; Cole is the other standout, although I suspect she comes across rather more thrillingly in person and with an orchestra.
      
• Opera Australia have announced some rearrangements in the upcoming Melbourne season. It all begins with Emma Matthews, or rather the lack of her — a respiratory infection has forced her out of the Melbourne season of I Capuleti e i Montecchi. She'll thus be replaced by Hye Seoung Kwon (who was already scheduled to sing the last two performances of this opera in its Sydney season). That means Hye Seoung is out of Die Zauberflöte, so she'll be replaced as Pamina by the lovely Sarah Crane. The domino effect continues: Crane is now replaced as First Lady by Amy Wilkinson, who is in turn replaced as Papagena by Annabelle Chaffey. Got all that? 
  
  
• Speaking of I Capuleti, it's one of this season's cruellest injustices that Melbourne gets Brad Cohen conducting its season, and we don't. But while we wait for his return to Sydney, allow me to recommend his rather comprehensive website and his YouTube channel. Richard Bonynge (it was spelt like that on the van) eat your heart out.


• And speaking of YouTube, you ought to see this. It's Joyce DiDonato singing "Crude furie degli orridi abissi" and it's every bit as spectacular as you'd expect. Is there no end to this woman's brilliance? I'm still stuck on her Handel arias disc. And her performance in the title role of Alan Curtis' new recording of Alcina is also a must. Curtis is clearly a genius — surely nobody in the world would ever have thought of casting Joyce in the soprano role, and yet it works so preposterously well that once you've heard it, it seems like the most obvious thing in the world — and you certainly wouldn't want her relegated to the pants role, when she's so well suited to the magic and madness of Alcina. And you've probably already seen this — I may even have linked to it before — but it bears repeated viewing.   


• The onetrackedness of my mind is incorrigible. The Fool &  The Opera now has the extended interview available as a podcast. Recommended listening. 

Looking forward

As hinted at, I'm marking my half decade of blogging with the unveiling of two small side-projects. I actually meant to do this at the beginning of January, but somehow that didn't happen. Anyway, allow me to direct your attention to:

The Prima la musica Opera in Australia Calendar
I realise February 2nd is a funny time to launch a calendar, but it beats waiting until next January. Inspired by the Opera~Opera listing and the NYC/Philly Opera Fanatic's similar service, this is an attempt to get as many Australian operatic events as possible listed in one place. It's a work in progress. So far I've listed the full seasons of the national and state opera companies, plus a few of the smaller Melbourne and Sydney companies, along with operatic/vocal events from the state orchestras, Musica Viva, the ACO, the ABO and the Sydney Conservatorium, and a smattering of other recitals, concerts and vocal competitions. I'm still waiting for various organisations to publish their 2009 concert schedules online, and submissions (via email or the comments section) are welcome. As are corrections: I've done my best, but there are bound to be errors.

Opera Australia Futures

Another derivative project. Hat tip this time to Brad Wilber and Gert. Rumours, speculation etc. about future seasons at Opera Australia. Again, submissions, additions, corrections and so on eagerly received.

Permanent links to both of these pages have been placed in the sidebar. I'll try and post notification here of major updates to either of them. 

Billet doux

Dear City Recital Hall,

Your new ticketing system isn't as pretty as the old one. The functionality is a little on the clunky side. It's prone to freeze (hint: Firefox good, Chrome bad). But it allows me to choose my own seat and even to see an image of the view from that seat. So for that, you have my gratitude and undying respect. Let's hope some of this country's other performing arts organisations will follow your example.

XXX

Sarah

And actually, while I'm at it,

Dear Australian Chamber Orchestra,

I don't love your posters. Or the titles you give to your concerts. But there's one thing about you I definitely do love. Thank you for offering under 30s tickets which are 1. a genuinely reasonable price and 2. available in all seating reserves. Let's hope some of this country's other performing arts organisations will follow your example, too.

XXX

Sarah

Five

Allow me to wish myself a slightly belated happy birthday. This blog turned five yesterday. I can't believe I've kept this up for so long. Thanks to those who've been reading from (almost) the beginning and to all those who've arrived in the years since. I have a couple of things in the works to mark the half decade, but like everything else lately, they're running slightly behind schedule. Watch this space.

Ich bin City Opera

Way down here in the Antipodes, with the tumult at our own opera company to think about (when we have the energy), the struggles of American companies can seem a little remote. But New York City Opera has a special place in my heart. I'll never forget how the City Opera Xerxes saved us from crushing despair, when we arrived in New York ready to see Ruth Ann Swenson in recital, only to discover she'd cancelled. They even threw divine Sarah Connolly into the mix. And besides, Beverly Sills loved City Opera, and I love Beverly Sills. 

So on that note, American readers, I draw your attention to the I am City Opera project, and encourage you to help this very special company in its hour of need. Before it's too late. 

Meanwhile

• Report just in from Melbourne that Antoinette Halloran once again stepped in at short notice for an indisposed Nicole Youl at tonight's performance of Madama Butterfly, and was once again an utter delight. (SMS version: "Antoinette is tiny and perfect. I hate Pinkerton.")   
• A few belated links to the latest installments in the continuing Opera Australia saga: Ziggy Switkowski is new chairmain, plans overhaul (The Age)| Weird humour piece on new chairman (Sydney Morning Herald) | Sensible analysis and response from board member David Malouf (Sydney Morning Herald) | Inevitable response from Bruce Martin (The Age) 
• Can't get enough (Marc-Antoine) Charpentier? The Pinchgut rehearsal blog has links and excerpts from print reviews, Marcellous, Thomasina and Wanderer have all blogged responses, and if you're so inclined, you can read the beginning of my interview with haute-contre Anders J. Dahlin and Pinchgut chair Liz Nielsen, which appeared in the December issue of 2MBS' Fine Music magazine. (You'll need to be a subscriber to read the whole thing.) 

Various

— I'm informed via email that Antoinette Halloran sang the title role of Madama Butterfly in Melbourne on Saturday, filling in for an indisposed Nicole Youl, and evidently scored a triumph. Brava, Antoinette, and we look forward to seeing your Butterfly here in January. (Apparently it was a bit of an ill starred evening, with Rosario La Spina going off sick after Act One as well. I don't know who replaced him at the end, though I'd be curious to find out.) [Update: Jamie Allen sang Pinkerton in Act 3 -see comment below]  

— Danish architect Joern Utzon, who designed the Sydney Opera House, died on Saturday aged ninety. The sails of the opera house were darkened on Sunday in mourning. Thomasina has an eloquent tribute to his iconic creation.

— It's not opera, but it definitely falls under the heading of diva worship — single tickets for the Sydney Theatre Company's 2009 season went on sale today, including for the production of most interest to me, A Streetcar Named Desire with Cate Blanchett as Blanche DuBois. Cate. As Blanche. As if Vivien and Yvonne weren't enough to keep me sighing forever. 

—Announcing the massively overdue addition to the blogroll of Anik LaChev's gorgeous blog Eye Bags, "footnotes on writing, trying to get a Ph.D., opera and cooking." I've been reading Eye Bags for a long time, and we have several obsessions in common, so I have no excuse for not blogrolling it earlier. But at least I have now.

Blogroll

I am appallingly slack about updating it, but if you care to look to your right and scroll down a little, you might notice the blogroll is now sporting a number of shiny additions, all of them (gasp!) Australian. Or, if you don't care to scroll your way there, here they are in a convenient list:

Pinchgut Opera. I'm more than a little surprised to realise it's taken me this long to blogroll the Pinchgut blog, but perhaps I just (shamefully!) removed it during a dormant period. Anyway, for the third year running, Ken, Liz et al are blogging the rehearsals for Pinchgut Opera's annual production. This year it's Charpentier's David et Jonathas. Pinchgut's is one of my favourite opera company blogs, and not just because I'm biased: they update almost every day — sometimes more than once a day — and provide a genuine insight into the nuts and bolts of putting on a show, complete with copious photos and the odd tantalising hint of what's in store. Check daily or you'll fall behind. And book, if you haven't already!

The Fool and The Opera. The blog of a soon-to-launch radio show of the same name on Melbourne's JOY 94.9. Blogger and producer Dan Vo promises to "poke and prod at Australian opera until all the delicious and delectable treats and goodies come pouring out" and so far he's delivering quite fabulously. If the show is as enjoyable as the blog, then I'd heartily recommend it to all Melburnians so inclined.

Not another music blogger... Where Lady Blogger offers "my opinions, like 'em or lump 'em", although not as frequently as I might like! However, when she does post it's plenty of fun, so I'm willing to forgive. I plugged "Not another..." soon after she launched but somehow didn't add her to the blogroll then. Error amended — sorry for the delay!

Stumbling on melons. Marcellous blogs anonymously and eloquently on music, law, life and a kaleidoscope of other topics besides.

Thomasina's last waltz. What it says on the tin — "Words, music and other enthusiasms – the weblog of Yvonne Frindle." Currently being updated with delightful frequency.

I am a liminal being. "Dreaming my dream in urban and rural New South Wales." Wide-ranging and frequently wonderful words — and images — from Wanderer.

Esoteric Rabbit. Theatre, art, music, politics and lots, lots more from Matthew Clayfield, "journalist, cultural critic, wayward filmmaker and bon vivant currently based in Sydney, Australia." Matthew blogrolled me many moons ago, and I, shockingly, am only now returning the favour. Posts on opera are few and far between, but always worth the wait, and perhaps now that he's moved to Sydney we can hope for a few more. And he's a Cheryl fan, which can only be a good thing!

7

It's been a while since my last meme. However, the proprietress of Score Desk (to whom I wish a belated buon compleanno) has tagged me, and I'm inclined to oblige. Especially as she credits me with her discovery of baroque opera, a distinction I'm only too proud to hold. So here, staying roughly on-topic, is the Seven Things About Me meme.

1. I have softened quite a lot since starting this blog four (almost five) years ago. It surprises me sometimes to read older posts: I don't remember being quite so venomous!

2. If I didn't have opera, bluegrass would probably be my musical obsession of choice. Ask me my favourite singer in the whole wide world and chances are I'll choose, not an opera singer, but Alison Krauss.

3. My very first diva (of sorts) was Nancy Sinatra. I wrote her a letter when I was five. She never replied.

4. Back in day, I used to adore Parterre in a starry-eyed sort of way. Now I find it quite an unpleasant environment, and visit less and less. The vulgarity and vitriole in the comments is appalling: I cannot imagine anything worse than attending the opera with people like that.

5. It probably means I'm a terrible person, but I strongly dislike the singing of Dame Emma Kirkby. I appreciate her significance in the revival of early music, and for that she has my utmost respect. But in anything post-Hildegard (and especially Handel) I'm afraid I can't abide her.

6. I am still tortured by the knowledge that, about six months (or less) before my opera obsession declared itself fully — though I was already sliding slowly in that direction — there was a production of Der Rosenkavalier in Wellington, starring Yvonne Kenny as the Marschallin. Had it happened a year later, I would have been there. As it was, I wasn't, and so I'll never see her in what might just have been her greatest role. (Some consolation, though, in news along the grapevine that the 2010 season will include the Marschallin of another Australian soprano of whom I am also rather fond.)

7. 14 months after it closed, I can no longer sing the whole of A Streetcar Named Desire in my head, although large chunks remain. Even at this distance, I have no wish to hear it again, and yet, against all reason and good sense, it is possible I will travel to Melbourne in December to see it just one more time. More for finality's sake than anything else, I think.

I'm now supposed to tag seven people. But I think I will take my usual cowardly route and just say, if you feel so inclined, consider yourself tagged.

Ritorna vincitor!

I did not spend last night at a major singing competition, but evidently much of Australia did.

In Melbourne, it was the finals of the Herald Sun Aria. Placed first was the excellent soprano Natalie Aroyan, whose performances I've enjoyed on several occasions and who seems to be sweeping quite a few awards these days. Runner-up was soprano Anna Whitehead, while tenor Irving Dekterev received the Encouragement Award. [See Herald Sun article here.]

Meanwhile, in Sydney, I also (and less forgiveably) missed the finals of the Mathy Award. The winning singer was baritone Sitiveni Talei. As usual, the other three finalists all received a variety of prizes and scholarships. Special congratulations to my own favourite among the semi-finalists, Sky Ingram, who was awarded five prizes, including a year's fees at the Guildhall. [See competition website for a full prize list.]

Congratulation to all the winners. And it's not over yet! The competitions keep coming. On Sunday, it's the finals of Opera Foundation Australia's German Opera Scholarship — this one, I shan't be missing.

See also

First, I just have to share this, from James Waites' overview of the 2008 Helpmann Awards at Australian Stage Online:

"In a tentative move to comment on the realm of opera, I was thrilled to see Cheryl Barker take out the award for Best Female Performer in an Opera. This was for her title role performance in Arabella, which I did not see. But who cares – I saw and heard Barker in Otello last week – and oh my gosh! Here is another perfect candidate to support my theme.

I did happen to be there eighteen years ago on the opening night of Baz Luhrmann/Catherine Martin’s La Boheme – which not only set that mildly talented duo up for all that has since followed; but where Cheryl Barker made us weep as a most tender of Mimi’s. A star was born.

Cheryl Barker - look at you now! Your Desdemona is incandescent. You are in full flight. As the guy who gets to hangs out in the stalls with the punters, I had to stop and pinch myself: how goddam lucky am I?"

Indeed.

Also, a bit of a link drop. You should see...

...wonderful Dunedin mezzo Claire Barton singing the South African national anthem at Carisbrook.
...Anna Leese's debut recital on EMI, which will finally be released next week.
...as much as you can of Anna Moffo in Pergolesi's La serva padrona, now available on YouTube. Forget glossy crossover and barihunks; if this doesn't make you love opera, nothing will.
...Not Another Music Blogger, the brand new blog of one Lady Blogger, who has been providing comprehensive and highly entertaining coverage of the Sydney International Piano Competition. Welcome to the blogosphere, Lady Blogger!

Non mi dir

Speaking of unusual angles on Don Giovanni (I'm about to go and see Elke's for a second time), allow me to draw your attention to this production, from De Nederlandse Oper, which I find strangely enchanting. I've linked to the "Non mi dir"; there's a selection of other clips available also, all worth watching. This is one of those very rare occasions when a YouTube clip has made me want to own the DVD immediately. The (fantastic) soprano, incidentally, is one Myrto Papatanasiu, whom Sydneysiders can hear in Beethoven's Missa Solemnis with the Sydney Symphony on the 19th of July. (Or the 18th, if you happen to be a pilgrim.)

Here

Greetings from Vancouver, eh. Internet access will be sketchy after today until I get to San Francisco. So this is just to say I'm still on the planet, though possibly next week Natalie will send me up into the galaxy somewhere. Speaking of which — I flew Air Canada. Their inflight entertaiment system includes XM Radio, so I found the classical station, browsed through the albums and chose Emmanuelle Haim's new recording of Bach's Magnificat and Handel's Dixit Dominus, which I didn't know existed. And the cover image was too blurry to see anyone's name except Emmanuelle's. You know what happens next — Track 3 was Natalie singing Bach and I was a mess. The recording as a whole sounds pretty fabulous too, though it's hard to tell through terrible airplane headphones. Still, it augurs well.

That's all from me. See you in San Francisco.

P.S. I know everyone's linking to this, but just in case by some miracle you've missed it — you need to see this video. As if I needed another reason to adore Debbie Voigt.

Publicity

I have been subsisting on Met and La Scala moviecasts and not much else — plus starting a new job here — which is why proper posts are a bit thin on the ground. I have a few in mind (most of them admittedly centred on Cheryl Barker) but in the meantime, a few bits and pieces elsewhere worth a plug.

A blog
For those who've not found it already, let me point you towards Score Desk, bloghome of CaroNome, "the world's first ever teenage-opera-singing-ballerina-blogger".  With Sieglinde apparently disparu, a couple of other favourites fading away and Parterre populated by some depressingly cynical and nasty commenters, she's a much needed ray of sunshine. Bright, funny and infectiously enthusiastic.

A soprano
I spend enough time chez Opera Australia that I have my favourites not just among the soloists but among the chorus as well. Chief among those is Jane Parkin — sister of the slightly more famous David — who always strikes me as someone who ought to be plucked from that chorus line and given a solo role. She was impressive in the McDonald's Aria finals last year, not just because she sang well (you'd have to figure most of the chorus could do that, or they wouldn't be there) but because her repertoire, her approach and her stage presence were all suggestive of an interesting and individual artist. Plus she's exactly the kind of soprano Opera Australia is serious need of, and thus worth developing. The only evidence I can offer you is this hilarious clip from, of all things, a pop science show. It's at least reflective of her star power, if not perhaps of her vocal abilities.

A recording
The Netrebko-Villazon behemoth hardly needs any marketing assistance from little old me. Just the same, their recently released La bohème is really, really good — and this coming from me, confirmed unfan of La bohème. Inevitably it is The Anna & Rolando Show, not so much an egalitarian ensemble piece, but in fact probably the more thrilling for it. She always seems to sound better with him beside her, he is swoon inducing with or without her and they make a pretty damn appealing couple on record. It's a little odd that Deutsche Grammophon, with its impressive stable of stars, couldn't come up with a more impressive Musetta than Decca's Nicole Cabell, who is outclassed here. Still, this is pretty top notch; it's a Bohème that makes me not detest Bohème, and that's saying something.

A DVD
After last Sunday's Met moviecast, I walked out of the movie theatre, took a bus into the city and immediately bought the DVD of La fille du régiment from the Royal Opera. I needed a permanent souvenir and this is as close as it comes. There are subtle differences between this and the Met incarnation, but it is equally terrific. Natural comedienne that she is, Natalie's improvisations change with every performance; I suspect you could watch her do it twenty times and she'd give you something new in every one. Juan Diego is as exruciatingly talented as ever and just as adorable; he was perhaps in even more fluid voice at the Met, but quite frankly, with Juan Diego, you're just comparing wonderful with wonderful. The only major difference is Dawn French as the Duchesse de Krakenthorp, who is a scream; less haughty than Marian Seldes but much, much funnier.

Moi-même
This is weeks old now, but while I'm promoting things — if you've a desire to read me in slightly more sensible, less overflowing mode, a piece I wrote about the rivalry between Lully and Marc-Antoine Charpentier appeared in Pinchgut Opera's April newsletter, available here. Pinchgut's 2008 production is Charpentier's rarely (ie practically never) performed opera David et Jonathas, which, despite containing far too many boys, promises to be another gorgeous success.

Good news, slightly less than good news

Slightly less than good news first. Via Iron Tongue of Midnight comes word that Ewa Podles has withdrawn from SF Opera's Ariodante. Ewa, don't leave me! Her replacement is none other than Sonia Prina, who sings Orlando for Opera Australia two months later. I've been terribly excited about the chance to hear Sonia over here — international singers at her level are a rare treat in these parts — but in place of Ewa? Not quite the same thing. I'm sure she'll be glorious. But I'd still have loved a chance to hear Ewa, Force of Nature, in person. Oh well.

The good news, however, is that I've had an excellent answer to one of my questions. I asked if anybody who knew who the TBA Rodolfo for the October season of La bohème would be. And, lo and behold, an anonymous comment tells me it will be Carlo Barricelli! This is in fact precisely the answer I'd hoped for. Carlo was seriously impressive in Il tabarro last year and I was very much disappointed by his absence from this year's season. Let's hope subsquent seasons will be able to make even better use of him; but for now, a Rodolfo will do. This boy may just be destined for very very Big Things; a comment on Parterre a little while ago mentioned he'd been covering Rodolfo at the Met, which is a bit impressive. So, looks like I'm off to yet another Bohème. Such is life. Thankyou for the tip, Anonymous!

Various

• Despite appearances, my experience of the La Scala Series La traviata was not All About Angela. There were other things. I liked Ramon Vargas and his voice a lot more in Alfredo than in Rodolfo. (And I liked him well enough there, but his Alfredo was just a bit more mellifluous and a bit more charming and, well, a bit more not La bohème.) Roberto Frontali's Germont père had the easiest flowing sound of the principal trio. The production is super traditional and kind of gorgeous; I liked it — Violetta gets fantastic frocks and I want to live in their country house. The La Scala Series experience is not as glossy or as full of features as the Met in HD moviecasts — sound and picture are both a bit scratchier, there's less sense of the audience, and there are no backstage shots and Conversations With Renée (or equivalent) — but still highly satisfying and, in its no frills way, sometimes a bit more immediate and exciting than the Met series. My hat is off to Greater Union Bondi Junction — screenings are in a smallish theatre, exactly the right size for the audience and for this kind of show. I didn't think any movie theatres still did reserved seating, but they do; seats are more steeply raked and further back from the screen than at the Chauvel, which, coupled with the small size of the theatre, means there are really No Bad Seats. The popcorn is brilliant, none of this upmarket (and admittedly tasty) "popped in olive oil" business like in Paddington; here it's your trademark fake butter flavour and a world of salt. Bought from a gargantuan snack bar.
  
• I don't suppose anybody out there has any idea who's singing Rodolfo for OA when La bohème returns in October? The website is still listing him as TBA. Otherwise it's basically a dream cast — the best people from the two casts we had earlier in the year. Amelia Farrugia as Musetta, José Carbo as Marcello and the scintillating Antoinette Halloran as Mimi. That's probably enough to make me see it again (yes, even though it's Bohème — I'm taking my Antoinette opportunities wherever I get them) but I'd like to know if they'll have a Rodolfo to match. Any clues welcome. Offer them anonymously if you like.
  
• Speaking of the scintillating Antoinette Halloran — any Wellington readers manage to attend her recital in the wonderfully named Sings Wellington series? Gorgeous Lieder in the first half and Poulenc's La voix humaine in the second. If you did — I am jealous. And a little in awe. I think anyone just performing the Poulenc is a bit special, but to do it with piano only and after already having sung the first half of a recital? Wow.
  
• Everything is booked and (touch wood) unjinxable now. So, my official schedule for San Francisco, in case anybody will be there and would like to say hello/stalk me (not so much the latter) is as follows:
  20th June — Lucia di Lammermoor
  21st June — Ariodante
  22nd June — Das Rheingold (matinée)
  23rd June — Lucia (again)
  24th June — death by exhaustion (presumably)

More movies

Have I been living in a cave? I didn't think so, but I'm more than a little surprised I hadn't already heard about this. The "La Scala Series" — cinema presentations of recent productions from La Scala (and a couple from Venice and Florence) — is being screened in a selection of Greater Union cinemas, including one near (well, near enough) me. Why hasn't this been bigger news? Or is it just me? I found out because I've ended up on the mailing list for Opera Queensland and happened to notice an ad for screenings in that state. I followed the link and discovered they're happening in Bondi too.

And they look pretty fantastic. The program detail links on the Greater Union site don't seem to work, but there's more information here, courtesy of the distributor, Arts Alliance Media. My timing is perfect, thank god — I'm just in time for a La traviata this weekend starring none other than the bewildering star of my last post, Angela Gheorghiu. A week ago I might have wished for somebody else but for now her ambiguous fascination holds and I'm curious to see her Violetta. I've seen her famous Covent Garden performance on DVD, but that was years ago, and if I'm completely honest, while I enjoyed it, I wasn't overwhelmed by it the way the rest of the world seems to have been. But now the prospect of Angela is semi-alluring and I suspect that (even if against my will) I might get a bit more of a thrill this time around. Or not, but we'll see.

Also, Maria Stuarda! Which makes me happy in itself but comes with a dynamic duo as a bonus — Mariella Devia as Maria and Anna Caterina Antonacci as Elisabetta. Yes please! Mariella is somebody I forever reading about but haven't yet had an opportunity to enjoy. The darkly fascinating Anna Caterina, meanwhile, is somebody I already know and adore.

There appears to be an Aida featuring Roberto Alagna, which is intriguing. Pre walk-out, presumably. The chance to hear the rest of La rondine appeals; the name Fiorenza Cedolins rings bells, though I'm not sure if they're good bells or bad bells. What else? A Forza conducted by Zubin Mehta, with Violeta Urmana and Marcello Giordano — not bad. Il Trittico, which as far as I can tell may or may not include lovely Barbara Frittoli as Angelica. Paoletta Marrocu, who I remember as a strange and terrifying Lady Macbeth to Thomas Hampson's funny looking (sorry — he did sound wonderful) Macbeth, is Giorgetta in Il tabarro. Those are pretty much the only names I recognise but that's no indicator of anything; in fact much of the appeal here is the chance to hear singers I don't know — one of the disadvantages of living in this half of the planet is that, without travelling, it's hard to know much about anyone without a recording contract. The final production in the series is, lo and behold, a Tristan und Isolde! So unless I finally go and buy myself a recording in between, both my first and my second Tristan will be enhanced by popcorn. Did I mention this one has Waltraud Meier? It does. I like her a lot, based on nothing more substantial than her appearance in James Levine's Anniversary Gala. Michelle DeYoung reappears as Brangäne. Ian Storey is Tristan and I can't shake the feeling that his name should mean something more to me than it does.

Of course, all this does mean that I have to start going to Bondi in my weekends, which doesn't have me wild with joy. But suffering for art is part of the deal.

Elsewhere

Bits and pieces from around the place that need sharing. Nothing blazingly new, so you might have already seen/heard/read it all, but if not, voilà.

• Lord knows I have raved enough about Cheryl Barker here, but rarely have I been able to offer any evidence of her fabulousness to those who haven't had the good fortune to experience her. So now, for any who might have doubted the truth of my words — Musica Viva has posted a short excerpt from her Butterfly for Opera Australia. Watch it and tell me she's not beautiful. Go on, I dare you. Me, I can watch it five times in a row and my knees go weak every time. One week until Arabella opens!
• The link to this video was posted to the Opera Australia Facebook group (the one whose moderator hates this blog was once quite unkind about this blog but evidently [see comments] does not, in fact, hate it). Comedian Rainer Hersch provides surtitles for Carmen. Very clever and very funny.
• Surely anyone who reads this blog must also read the blog of Glorious Joyce DiDonato, where she writes beautifully and posts gorgeous photos. But just in case, a couple of recent favourites of mine that you need to see: I absolutely love this photo (and covet that dress); and I just have to share this admirable sentiment.
• A commenter has pointed out this site, dedicated to Kathleen Battle. It's not an official site, but all the important information is there. It is so nice to see something current, and even nicer to see that my adored Kathy is still performing. I hope her Carnegie Hall recital is wonderful. Her Baroque Duet is on my iPod and it's all I can do not to burst into tears on the ferry to work.
• Vivat Kiri. She's already been taken out of context and vilified, and will no doubt continue to be. But I'm with her all the way. See Ross Browne's comment at the top of this page.
• And of course, since this is one of those posts, the obligatory NatalieTube link: an interview with Laurent Ruquier. If she told me to jump off a bridge, I might just do it; I'm totally under this woman's spell. Oh, and this too. Natalie sings Poulenc! (audio only)
  

Various

• There are more reasons every day for me to love Alice Coote. The latest — her recital on the EMI Début label, released in 2003. I heard this for the first time perhaps a year ago, but only the first half, and I never got to hear it again. This week I bought it at a bargain bin price and swooned anew. I remembered that it was drop dead gorgeous, but remembering that is one thing; drowning in it is another. What perplexes me is that she doesn't appear to have recorded another solo album since this one. She ought. Just for me.
• I'm so devoted. Despite the higher prices (yes, I'm still bitter about that) I went on Monday afternoon to book myself in for second helpings of two operas I don't much like or want to see again, in order to see somebody I do like sing in them. Antoinette in La bohème tomorrow night (and, as a bonus, lovely Taryn Fiebig as Musetta) and Joshua Bloom as Escamillo on the 28th. I really had to push myself into the Carmen — I had at least hoped I could make it to one of the few performances where Joshua and Kirsten Chavez coincide, but they're sold out. (That's Carmen for you. The reviewers — by which I mean The Mighty McCallum and (hah) myself — were not enthusiastic.) However missing out on my third Joshua Bloom Dandini (yes, still bitter about that, too) persuaded me; it will also be nice to see Catherine Carby as Carmen — about time I saw her in a proper role, not the Bela Lugosi role in Streetcar — and Tiffany Speight as Micaela.
• While looking for something else — I forget what now — I stumbled across the information that Opera Australia will stage Fidelio in 2009. That prompted me to do a little more Googling, from which I've gleaned (look away now if you'd prefer to be surprised in August) that the 2009 season will also include Madama Butterfly, a Cav/Pag and an Aida, the last of these with imported principals, which is hardly surprising. There may or may not be a Manon Lescaut. And of course, there's presumably the Dido & Aeneas I posted about the other day, which I'm already breathlessly anticipating.
• I really, really, really like Alice Coote (and I must be a Handel geek, because my brain said Alice but my fingers typed Alcina). I'm listening to the CD while writing. She's too gorgeous to be believed. And this is five years ago. Need. More. Alice.

Saper vorrei

Next month Opera Australia is doing Un ballo in maschera. With the exception of an aria or two, this is an opera with which I am not at all familiar. And so I ask you, dear readers, for advice.

Which recording of Un ballo in maschera would you recommend to a Ballo-beginner such as myself?

Preferably something still in print and reasonably priced — though all suggestions will be considered — and at the risk of being yelled at/politely admonished, there's not much point recommending me the Maria Callas recording of anything. At least not in this kind of situation.

As I say, all suggestions considered. However, having paid a quick visit to Premiere Opera, I have a second, more specific question which is perhaps more to the point:

Do I want the live 1978 Ballo from Covent Garden with Sylvia Sass, José Carreras et al, or the live 1981 Ballo from Covent Garden with Montserrat Caballé, Luciano Pavarotti et al?

My immediate leaning is towards the 1981 recording, but what do I know?

Advise away.

Various

• I had meant to write something about La bohème but other things happened and I didn't. Anyway, it was fine. It was La bohème. Aldo di Toro was lovely, as always, though I have to say, not as blazingly so as in La traviata; José Carbo as Marcello was in fact the star of the evening. I'm still concerned about Amelia Farrugia's apparently non-existent middle-to-lower register. And I still cannot wait for Antoinette Halloran's Mimi; I know, I know, I put myself at risk with such high expectations, but the risk is what makes it so much fun.
• Is 2008 my year for baritones? I saw La cenerentola last night (review for The Opera Critic forthcoming) and as with Bohème, the baritone — Joshua Bloom — stole the show. And it was a pretty fantastic show anyway, but he was just superb in every way. And is most of the reason I'm planning to see it a couple more times. There's probably a longer, rhapsodic post on him in the offing.
• And excuse me for stating the bleeding obvious, but — Lorraine Hunt Lieberson = perfection. I've been listening to her for several years, her Handel CD is on my iPod, it's not as if she's a new discovery, so this is nothing I didn't theoretically already know. But somehow in the last week I've begun to truly feel it in my bones. Thank god she's already been written about so beautifully by far better writers than myself, because I wouldn't know where to start. But wow.

Two thousand and eight

Typically at the beginning of a new year I start thinking about what I'm looking forward to. And generally speaking, the events I expect will be the greatest, the most exciting, the most important, turn out to be nothing of the sort, and the true highlights come from unexpected quarters. Not that my poor success rate prevents me predicting. So.

I expect The Makropulos Secret (as Opera Australia has chosen to translate the title) to be one of the Events of the year, even though it comes quite close to the end of the season. I expect not to attend My Fair Lady, but am grateful to it for funding things like the Janacek and Billy Budd. I expect as well that I'll love Billy Budd more than I think I will, too; no sopranos, it's true, but it is Britten after all. I very much hope that Rachelle Durkin, as both Donna Anna and Angelica, will live up to the stratospheric standard I've set based on her gorgeous Alcina. And I expect to fall in love, either again or for the first time, with at least one opera which right now I think myself immune to.

In the world outside the Opera House, I plan to spend more time with Mirella Freni, Patrizia Ciofi and the works (in every genre) of Francis Poulenc. I may or may not pursue Felicity Lott further. Natalie just happens, so no need to expect or resolve anything there. One of the most exciting musical events on my horizon is actually not operatic or even vocal: a visit in October from the fabulous Angela Hewitt, part of her Bach World Tour. The Musica Viva recital featuring Cheryl Barker, Peter Coleman-Wright and Piers Lane (and, apparently, a gigantic swan) looks pretty irresistible too. And I resolve to acquire a cat.

And 2008 will bring a few changes in this blog too. You may or may not recall, I began an experiment some months ago, establishing a second blog devoted exclusively to Opera Australia. It's been mildly successful, but not enough so to merit its separate existence, so it's being incorporated into this blog, meaning, in short, more Sydney content here. At the same time, there will be fewer actual reviews: beginning with La boheme tomorrow night (well technically tonight) I'll be reviewing Sydney performances for The Opera Critic. So that's where the reviews will be. But I've no doubt I'll still find plenty to write (read: bleat on) about here. There may be a few other changes here and there, but they're still in the planning stages, and none are drastic.

Is that everything? Not by a long shot, I shouldn't think. However it's all the occurs to me for now; and I have the rest of the year to remember the rest.

Two thousand and seven

Quelle surprise! A year-in-review post.

Best live performance

For the first time, I actually have a great deal to choose from. This was my first year of frequent and regular operagoing, when all it took to get to an opera house was busfare, not a plane ticket and a hotel. In terms of excellence across the board, I think I have to pick Rusalka as the highlight from Opera Australia. The opera was revelation to me, the performance woke me up to the talents of Cheryl Barker and even despite a couple of serious flaws (Jezibaba's laboratory and white coat, for instance) it remains a seriously good-looking and striking production. Alcina deserves honourable mention also, another impressive production with Rachelle Durkin ferociously fabulous in the title role; if only every other role had been cast as strongly. And kudos to Moffatt Oxenbould's Il trittico which has stood the test of time, fresher and brighter than its age might suggest, and adorned with a radiant Cheryl Barker as all three heroines. Of course there is more to Sydney than Opera Australia (just). Philippe Jaroussky's concerts with the Brandenburg Orchestra were baroque bliss. I enjoyed a trip to the Kangaroo Valley Arts Festival for a recital by the one and only Yvonne Kenny, above all for the opportunity to hear once more her performance of Liszt's "Der du von dem Himmel bist". The first time I ever heard Yvonne in recital (two and a half years ago now) she sang this and I nearly blacked out (seriously); this time I kept my composure and revelled in the total beauty of her singing, which is like nothing else in my life. Best of all in 2007, however, was the Sydney Symphony's performance of Mozart's Mass in C Minor, an exquisite and deeply moving musical experience which I shan't ever forget.

Best on record

Three new releases this year stand out for me. Sandrine Piau's collection of German and French songs, Evocation, is a pleasure which everyone deserves to enjoy. Perhaps the most personal and intimate of Sandrine's solo releases, her usual pyrotechnics replaced by a depth and radiance of expression which is no less breathtaking. Carolyn Sampson's Purcell disc, Victorious Love, is another must have for those with ears, a candy shop of a CD - every track a delectable (and yet calorie-free!) treat. The third is a disc I haven't written about here, mostly because it's a very difficult one to write about, but it's perhaps the most extraordinary CD I heard all year: Terezin/Theresienstadt, a selection of music written in Terezin concentration camp, performed by Anne Sofie von Otter and friends. There is no way in the world to write in a normal way about a project like this, but it is a truly amazing recording, in terms of historical interest, musical values and devastating emotional content.

Discoveries

Quite a few this year, but again three of particular significance. In January I found Carolyn Sampson via Rameau, was immediately bewitched and have only grown more so. Frankly I find it hard to fathom that the person who has this voice just walks around, existing like any normal human being; and meanwhile she has the ability to make that sound. Incredible. Then there was the totally divine Mirella Freni, who caught me off guard in a Best of Puccini collection and has yet to release her grip. The third, if you hadn't guessed, was of course Cheryl Barker, one of the hugest changes of heart I've experienced. From inexplicable indifference I moved to slightly begrudging admiration and then, courtesy of Il trittico, to abject devotion.

Rediscovery

2007 was also a year for rekindling old affections. My love for Kathleen Battle has never waned, as such, but this year was stronger than ever. Likewise Barbara Bonney, who has never sounded lovelier to me than she has this year. And after a worrying period of ambivalence, I returned, thanks to her incredible disc Maria, to one of my very first loves, the unique, wonderful and probably insane Cecilia Bartoli.

Other stuff

Naturally I continued this year to adore and venerate the miraculous Natalie Dessay, and remain very very grateful to the YouTube user who managed to post footage of the Mad Scene from her Met Lucia barely a day after it opened. Pinchgut's Juditha triumphans was a fantastic pre-Christmas treat, with the particular thrill of Fiona Campbell's out-of-this-world "Armatae face et anguibus". I was amused by the brief flurry of attention I received from a Vittorio Grigolo fan club message board after giving him a less than great review for his performance in Rossini's Stabat Mater. One of the most entertaining nights of the year was the Sydney Symphony's concert performance of Isaac Nathan's rightly obscure Don John of Austria, mostly lacking musical merit but a gorgeous vehicle for gorgeous Cheryl, and pretty hilarious too. Two loves of my life came together when I had the immense joy of hearing Yvonne Kenny sing Strauss' Four Last Songs with the Australia Ensemble. And on the second-to-last day of the year, I attended my first Met cinema broadcast, an excellent Roméo et Juliette and a sign that these broadcasts will continue to be a source of great pleasure.

But above all else

In my mind, 2007 will remain The Year of Streetcar. I started preparing for this months before it was announced. I bought the play a week before the press release. I bought the recording eleven months before the premiere and listened and listened and listened. And read, and thought, and wrote. A couple of posts turned into a vast series, a track-by-track dissection of the opera. Naturally it was about Blanche, one of the most taxing roles Yvonne Kenny has ever taken on. By the time I saw the first performance, I knew most of her words. By the end, when I'd seen it eight times, I knew all of her words and, in a rough kind of way, her music too. I still do. I won't claim it was Yvonne's greatest role but it was nevertheless an extraordinary triumph for her, a demonstration of her talent, her musical intelligence and her personal strength. And I won't claim that I love A Streetcar Named Desire, nor that I ever desire to hear it again. But I've never approached any opera the way I did Streetcar, and that intense immersion will remain my most enduring impression of 2007.

Curiosities

• An interesting (read: seriously weird) juxtaposition. Lucy Shelton singing David del Tredici's bizarre, atonal and often hilarious "Vintage Alice" (set for soprano, two saxophones, mandolin, banjo, accordion and chamber ensemble) followed immediately by Elena Souliotis crashbanging her way through Anna Bolena's "O dolce guidami" and some Big Verdi. Frankly, Elena is jarring enough (though not without a thrill or three) without the added confusion of listening when my brain was still in del Tredici mode.
• I haven't listened to it yet. But as it was 1. appealing and 2. a serious bargain, I've bought a copy of Kent Nagano's recording of the French version of Salome. I probably should own a copy of the German version before trying this one out, but too late. It looks intriguing, and contains José van Dam, which is always a plus.
• Very very bored yesterday afternoon, I amused myself by typing "O mio babbino caro" into iTunes, removing the Artist field from the results and listening at random to see who I could pick from the hundreds of recordings. Mirella was lovely to hear, Rita Streich adorable and Angela Gheorghiu surprisingly appealing. But oh my there are a lot of nowhere-near-ready sopranos with CDs available for purchase, recordings which display huge vibratos and minimal personality. And then there's the truly terrifying Aria Tesolin. Google her. I daren't link. You Have Been Warned. (Hint: she's also known as "Baby Soprano".)
• I have a CD released by Etcetera in 1987. I've always been struck by the warts-and-all sound of it — you can hear the soprano's every breath and gulp, you can hear exactly how much air is being expelled and when, you can more or less hear how every syllable is being produced. Fascinating, but mercilessly exposed; thankfully for her, she comes through it pretty well, but others wouldn't. Then last night, when all was silence, I listened to it on headphones and realised the first time just how much background noise has been picked up. I'm used to the odd tap and click, a page being turned and so on. But on this recording I can hear church bells, a child shouting and incessantly chirping birds. All in all, I think if you'd recorded these songs in a single take on a summer day in a practice room with the window open, and released them without much further production, you'd achieve the same effect. What I wonder is why? I have a couple of other Etcetera records from around the same time, neither of which display similar oddities. And it's not that I mind; actually I rather love that feeling of reality and intimacy, but it's not something I've noticed elsewhere, and it does seem strange, so I do sort of wonder why it happened.

Katya, quickly

A note to those with a love of Janacek, or of Cheryl Barker, or just a love of a good bargain (I answer to all three) — the Chandos Opera in English recording of Katya Kabanova, with Cheryl in the title role and Carlo Rizzi conducting the Orchestra of the Welsh National Opera, is currently to be had from iTunes (from the Australian store, at least) for the unfathomable price of $13.99. This set retails for around $60 in stores so this is an incredibly good deal. Mine's downloading as I type, needless to say.