Prima la musica, poi le parole

Autre part

Fine. Warhorse after warhorse, Turandot after Turandot, then I leave the country and look — NZ Opera is doing Jenufa. Well, never mind; I got to hear Cheryl sing it so woe is not exactly me. Anyway, I am very pleased indeed to see NZ Opera producing something which is (for them) not exactly standard repertoire — let us hope it is a sign of things to come. Naturally it's balanced out by the biggest warhorse of them all, La bohème. Fair enough.

What does strike me as slightly odd about their 2008 Bohème, however, is that both Mimì and Musetta will be sung by Australian sopranos. Now, I'm all for opera-as-international-experience. Of course I am. But does the current generation of New Zealand singers really not contain a single soprano capable of singing either of these bread and butter roles at that level? I find it difficult to imagine that this is the case. Still, I'm pleased for New Zealand audiences that they'll have what the NZ Opera website refers to, slightly cannibalistically, as "their first taste" of both Antoinette Halloran and Tiffany Speight. The two Stellas — Tiffany was cast for Streetcar until (so I believe) health issues forced her to withdraw and Antoinette took over. I'm looking forward very much to Antoinette's Bohème here, and Tiffany was a lovely Susanna. Oh and one further thing — I can't help but hope that at some point the promotional image for La bohème is changed. Their frail blonde Mimì is very sweet, but Antoinette's who everyone will actually see, and she's even more photogenic. 

In truth, though, I'd say the potentially starriest cast for NZ Opera next year is that for their touring production of Hansel und Gretel. Ana James sings Gretel and Anna Pierard is Hansel — two rising New Zealand singers who I'm sure will bowl their regional audiences over. They'd bowl cosmopolitan audiences over too. Good move, too, casting Helen Medlyn as the Witch. I said once, having heard her sing a couple of seduction arias, "If this was temptation, it was of the gingerbread house variety", so now everyone's happy.

And meanwhile, on the other side of the world, Natalie adorata opened in Lucia di Lammermoor at the Met. The (blog) reviews aren't all in love with her, but I still am. And I do hope that everyone who is (totally justifiably, don't misunderstand me) ambivalent nevertheless appreciates how mindblowingly fortunate they are to have the opportunity for such ambivalence. What luxury, what privilege, to be at leisure to only sort of like Natalie (and then maybe go and see Anna Netrebko sing Juliette a few nights later). Ma foi.

However, my jealousy has been assuaged just a bit by the glorious wonders of modern technology. Thanks to, in order, Peter Gelb's new multimedia Met, NatalieTube (the videos seem to have disappeared now, but know, operatennisfan, that I will love you for all of my days), KeepVid, Videora and my brand new and very pretty little silver iPod Nano (whose name is Mirella, incidentally), within a couple of days of the Lucia prima, I had Natalie's mad scene to watch on the train to work. I know I belong to a generation which is meant to be rather blasé about such technological wonders, but I'm still blown away by what's possible.

Of course there was never any possibility that I would be ambivalent about Natalie. She's my diva, my brain doesn't work that way for her. She's a miracle by definition. So hardly surprising, then, that I loved her, but I did. So much. What I especially love is that when her Lucia speaks to an invisible Edgardo, her words are not the distracted rantings of somebody on madwoman autopilot, but rather a palpable hallucination in which she believes completely. She sings "Alfin son tua" just as she would if he were there and the crowd wasn't. She's so small and so disturbing and so tragic and so perfect. And I suppose while the way she sings isn't for everyone, oh, it is for me. The disappearance of the flute cadenza is a genius touch too. Not sure about the shot in the arm but as for the coloratura and the ornaments it supposedly elicits — yes please. Natalie's reign in my heart continues.

Deborah Wai Kapohe at Marama Hall

After yesterday's news, writing anything about anything else seems something of an anti-climax but I suppose that life, however surreal, must go on — for the next five and half weeks, at least. And besides, I have something to write about: a recital at Marama Hall today by distinguished New Zealand soprano/Otago master's student Deborah Wai Kapohe, accompanied by the unchangingly excellent Terence Dennis. Vocal performances are all too rare among Marama Hall's concert calendar (too rare, I mean, for my own heavily biased tastes) — solo vocal recitals are, not surprising, even rarer. It's one wonderful thing about being a student: pay $2, see a recital easily worth a whole lot more.

The first time I heard Deborah, I was still several months away from complete devotion to opera. I knew next to nothing then (not much has changed!) but I knew that I loved Kathleen Battle. That first recital was an enchanting one, in which Deborah accompanied herself on classical guitar — and some of the repertoire I recognised, on account of Kathy's sublime CD with Christopher Parkening, Pleasures of their Company (if you've never heard it, do so as soon as you can).  I was an instant fan.

Most recently, I heard Deborah in her last Marama Hall appearance which, amazingly enough, I discover was almost a year ago. The time has certainly flown. Then, she sang Spanish and Orientalist songs by Gounod, Berlioz et al. This afternoon was altogether a different flavour: opera scenes and arias. Oh my, I don't think I realise how starved for live opera I am in this city until I actually get to hear some, and not just an aria or two in a programme otherwise populated with pianos and violins, but a whole programme of it.

Having now heaped all that praise, I'm going to be completely honest and say: I didn't enjoy the first aria on this afternoon's programme. Now, as you'll have gathered, I love the voice: it's big, dark, dramatic and gorgeous with a hint of the Mediterranean about it; but it was precisely those qualities which made it unsuited to the delicate tracery of Ilia's "Zeffiretti lusinghieri". Ilia sings of gentle breezes; Deborah was closer to sirocco perhaps. The other Mozart selection was the rather fierier (have I mixed my heat/warmth metaphors enough yet?)  insertion aria "Vado, ma dove?" and I liked that a whole better; but the true highlight was what came next: Medora's Romanza "Non so le tetre immagini" from Verdi's Il Corsaro. This is early Verdi, very bel canto, very much my style and even more so Deborah's —  I was entranced. Publicity for this recital gave the impression that the Verdi selection would be from Falstaff — Nannetta's "Sul fil d'un soffio etesio", presumably, as she's sung Nannetta on stage and the only other characters with proper "arias" are men — but I'm overjoyed it was this instead. I'm not entirely sure I can imagine her capturing the floaty, ethereal atmosphere of the fairy song but as Verdi's Medora she was ideal and ravishing. Puccini followed Verdi, in the form of Mimì's "Si mi chiamano Mimì" and "Donde lieta usci". The former was fine but somehow never seemed quite in place to me; the latter, on the other hand, was simply beautiful — at moments I almost felt I was hearing my Anna Moffo, who owns this aria for me. In true diva style — and I mean that in the best sense — she ended with a big finish, Marguerite's great scene, "Il était un roi de Thulé" through to "Ah, je ris".  Strangely enough, though I've heard the Jewel Song a million-and-one times (and even have a keyring in the shape of perhaps its greatest interpreter) I have only one recording of the first section — and that in Italian, by the glorious Renata Tebaldi. Hearing it in French, and hearing "Ah, je ris" in slightly more context, both made a welcome change. Deborah pulled the scene off masterfully (watch out, Anne-Sophie Duprels!) as a winningly girlish-but-growing Marguerite, a suitably brilliant conclusion to a beautiful recital.

And things just keep getting better: Deborah gives another recital on May 6th and this time, as it's her master's recital, it's free. Unbelievable. Further even than that, she's to sing the title role in Carmen here in August. Obviously she's perfect for the part; after today's recital I'm surer of that than ever. So much so that, despite my earlier grumblings about the choice of opera, and despite the withdrawal of Anna Leese as Micaela, I find I'm really rather looking forward to Carmen after all. About time I showed some gratitude!

ATTENTION NZ SINGERS

Aren't you lucky. Available here, for your downloading pleasure, the syllabus for the 2006 Dunedin Performing Arts Competitions Society Senior Vocal Festival. Just click the link to download the .doc file.

Entries close August 2006. Some small changes to classes may occur; a finalised syllabus will be available from the convenor, Susanne Chambers, whose email address is in the syllabus. (I'll protect her from spammers by not posting it here.)

NZ Opera 2006 continued

As I hinted, I'm relying on the singers to get me properly excited about the 2006 NZ Opera season. There are no cast lists on the website, but this press release - and this one - help somewhat.

For Faust we have so far:

Faust - Jaewoo Kim
Marguerite - Anne Sophie Duprels
Siébel - Kristen Darragh
Valentin - James Harrison
Wagner - Malcome Ede

For Don Pasquale:

Don Pasquale - Conal Coad
Norina - Lorina Gore
Ernesto - Ashley Catling

For Die Zauberflöte (though it's The Magic Flute on the website so I'm worried it might be in English):

Sarastro - Graeme Broadbent
Queen of the Night - Ana Camelia Stefanescu
Papageno - Richard Burkhard
Papagena - Carla Parry
Monostatos - Phillip Rhodes

Well. For a start, I think Jaewoo Kim for Faust ought to prove a fabulous piece of casting. This man, after all, had girls swooning as Don Ottavio this year. Don Ottavio. It's an utterly gorgeous voice and one which I think will be wonderfully suited to Gounod. This will be his début in the role. About his Marguerite, Anne Sophie Duprels, I know absolutely nothing - except that she's French, which is in itself a very good thing. (For singing French opera I mean. But generally speaking as well.) Siébel, Valentin and Wagner are all being sung by former NZ Opera Emerging Artists - isn't that nice.

Lorina Gore is a UK-based Australian soprano who can be read about here; Ashley Catling is an English tenor. But Conal Coad as Don Pasquale might just steal the show from both of them because he's wonderful.

Ana Camelia Stefanescu's bio makes me think she'll be a pretty fabulous Queen of the Night. This girl sang Zerbinetta for the Romanian National Opera at nineteen. I for one am impressed. And personally, if I could choose any dark-haired Romanian soprano to sing here, I'd still be more interested in this one, because I'm afraid I still don't get Angela. Graeme Broadbent and Richard Burkhard are both English; the latter has an offical website - with audio, though I haven't listened yet. Carla Parry and Phillip Rhodes are two more former Emerging Artists.

There are gaps then: Méphistophélès and Marthe, and about half the cast of Zauberflöte, including Tamino and Pamina. However are also a few singers mentioned as appearing, with no roles specified: Rodney Macann, Helen Medlyn, Jared Holt and Kate Spence. Jared Holt, according to his page at IMGArtists, is singing Valentin - James Harrison is only doing the Auckland run. Rodney Macann's bio at NZ Opera lists The Speaker in his repertoire. Helen Medlyn's rather extensive biography at her own website lists both the Third Lady and Marthe among her roles; as for the lovely Kate, well, I just don't know. Presumably which of those two roles Helen isn't doing.

There's something else, too: in addition to the three staged operas, there's also to be a concert performance of Bartok's Bluebeard's Castle with the Auckland Philharmonia. What a strange country this is. Almost no Handel anywhere for years - but this will be the second Bluebeard's Castle in as many years: Jamie Frater and Ellen Watts sang it at Massey University in July. It might be interesting to hear; but perhaps not possible - you see, I went to the Philharmonia's website to see if there were any details there. There weren't. But I did discover something else that they're doing in May:

Thu 11 May 2006 8:00pm - Town Hall, Auckland

Patricia Wright   Soprano

Kate Spence  Mezzo-soprano

Paul McMahon  Tenor

Stephen Bennett   Bass

Chapman Tripp Opera Chorus

Alexander Liebreich  Conductor

Mozart    Symphony No.35, Haffner

              Maurerische Trauermusik

              Die Maurerfreude Cantata

              Ave Verum Corpus

              Requiem

More Mozart : excellent. Kate Spence: wunderschön. And Patricia Wright? I think I've made my feelings pretty clear on that subject. Give me Patricia Wright in the Mozart Requiem, then, and let's just say I'm a very happy devotee indeed. Bartok's all very well, but I'm not going to Auckland twice in one month, and there's just no way in the world I'd miss this. 202 days and counting.

Season announced

NZ Opera 2006 season announced.

Zauberflöte, Faust and a national tour of Don Pasquale.

I have to confess, I'm ever so slightly underwhelmed. Mostly, though, at a personal level. As three show opera seasons go, it looks like a pretty good one. But given all my dreaming the other day, I had hoped there would be something there to make me sit bolt upright, squeal with excitement, and immediately start booking flights and accommodation. There isn't, however. This might, of course, change slightly once the casts are announced, but on the other hand, it might not. We shall see. This is not to say I'm not going. I'm sure I'll make it to one at least.

Of course, Don Pasquale will come to me. The national tour is a wonderful thing, and I'm glad it's happening at last. I'll admit, of the two Donizetti operas on offer this year, it's the Canterbury Lucia I'm more excited about. It's the fault of Opera Rara and Australian coloraturas (Joanie too), I suppose, but somehow it's all the Somebody Tragic di Somewhere operas that really attract me. Beatrice di Tenda, Linda di Chamounix and my own personal favourite, Emilia di Liverpool - that's the sort of Donizetti I'd get properly excited about. That said, Don Pasquale ought to be good, and has one factor significantly in its favour: Conal Coad, this year's splendid Leporello in Giovanni, in the title role. Besides which, he's directing it, which, given the comic talents he showed off in Giovanni, doesn't seem too shabby an idea at all.

It would be nice to see Die Zauberflöte again. I've seen it live once before but in fact it doesn't count, I was tiny at the time. My First Opera. All I retained was you-know-which-part of 'Der Hölle Rache', and I tormented my parents with...shall we say, my 'version' thereof...for weeks. Despite that, they gave me a Magic Flute picture book, complete with abridged versions of the musical highlights. I half-learnt to play them on the piano. By which I mean, I haltingly/incorrectly struggled through the right-hand melody only. Actually I still play them from time to time now; I can even (sometimes) add the left hand these days. In any case, those bits of music imprinted themselves and as a result,  Zauberflöte was the first opera I knew to any great extent. And of course, apart from any of these sentimental attachments, it's Mozart and it's heaven. (Is some luxury casting for the Three Ladies too much to hope for?)

Faust, on the other hand, is as least as much of an old standby as Zauberflöte - probably more so - but I don't know it nearly as well. The big arias, of course, I know; but the opera in its entirety I have heard precisely once: the Met broadcast with Roberto Alagna in the title role. It will be interesting to see who's cast as Faust for this one. Have we any smooth French tenors floating about the country? Will one be imported?  I know that in that broadcast, it was the lovely sounds of Mr Alagna which stopped me becoming entirely fed up with Faust the man, who's a bit of a bastard, really. Obviously one has to side with devil (best tunes and all that, not to mention the fetching red costumes and dashing horns) but I'd like a Faust with a fighting chance at winning my sympathies, and I think he'll only manage that by sounding beautiful. And naturally I'd like a gorgeous full voiced Marguerite. Siébel has already been announced as Kristen Darragh, whom I've heard once before, as the Israelite Man in Judas Maccabeus, though she made no great impression upon me then.

It's a pretty easygoing season. It could have been better, for me at least. But I'm sure I'll survive. After all, there's Salieri's Falstaff here in Dunedin, a trip or two to Canterbury Opera, Parsifal (and possibly Tan Dun's Tea [!]) in Wellington. Not to mention a Falstaff in Sydney with the Alice Ford of my dreams. And who knows what else will arise as the year progresses. I still wish I was bursting with excitement at some part of the NZ Opera season, but maybe it's just me. Perhaps I'm getting jaded with old age. Besides, the casts haven't been announced yet, we still don't know who our Pamina is, and you know me and Mozart sopranos...

En fermant les yeux

The NZ Opera announces its 2006 season on Wednesday. Think we might manage more than two operas this time? Probably not. (Yes, yes, I know, technically they've done three this year, but that assumes you count their single concert performance of The Death of Klinghoffer, and I'm sorry, but I don't.) I do understand that it's not out of spite that they stage so few operas in year, but still, it infuriates me. However, I figure in any case that with that announcement imminent, there can be no superstitious harm now in dreaming a little...

I'd like an Otello. Or possibly a Macbeth. But preferably an Otello. Preferably an Otello with Simon O'Neill in the title role; though this seems unlikely given that 1) he's already coming here for Parsifal this year and 2) it's not even in his repertoire (yet). Lord knows why I of all people am hankering for such a boy-heavy opera, but there it is.

Some Handel would be nice, I think. The last Handel the NZ Opera did was Acis and Galatea, of all things. It was also " the first Handel opera ever to be performed by a professional opera company in this country." That was 2003, and as far as I'm aware there hasn't been much more Baroque opera anywhere since. It also had a very limited season - if you can call one semi-staged night each in Auckland and Wellington a season. Well then, about time for something big. Alcina? Rinaldo? Perhaps don't tell the Nessun Dorma crowd about all the counter-tenors until after you've got 'em inside and locked the doors. And since I'm wishing on stars, put Graham Pushee in there somewhere because I adore the man. Now there's an idea - import Opera Australia's Rinaldo, complete with Graham and the beautiful Michael Chance.

We seem about due some Puccini also. The last was Tosca, in 2003. Personally I'd fancy Fanciulla, mostly because I've never heard it, except for a couple of excerpts on radio from time to time, when it always sounds wonderful. Though I understand Minnie's a bit of a challenge to cast. But, hey, Aprile Millo, now that you're not doing that Carnegie Hall concert... Seriously, though, there's bound to be somebody hanging around this hemisphere who'd do it. As I write I'm listening to Manon Lescaut with Mirella & co - this one also would do nicely. Not Bohème though, thanks all the same.

Rosenkavalier I'd love, but I cherish absolutely no hopes of. The NZ Arts Festival did it not so very long ago, so there's not much chance the NZ Opera would do it again. But do you know the worst thing? The Arts Festival production's Marschallin was...well, you figure it out. Suffice it to say, it breaks my heart to think I was so close (not only geographically, but also heading towards my opera revelation) and yet so far away. She sang it in Australia last year too. So I'll probably never see her as the Marschallin; the Opera in English highlights will have to do. Speaking of Richard Strauss, however - I'm longing to hear Patricia Wright, my other adored Antipodean, in anything, but Strauss seems particularly ideal. As I say, I daren't hope for a Rosenkavalier - though I think she'd make a magnificent Marie Therese - but Arabella, maybe, or Capriccio. Actually what I'd like to see more than anything is Ariadne auf Naxos, which probably isn't a Patricia Wright vehicle. Which means looking elsewhere for one of those... oh hell, let them just do Figaro again, it's really too unfair that I missed her Contessa in the first place. (Or even second place. She's done it for Canterbury Opera too, which is even more gallingly close.) Or something else. Anything else. After all, I went to Christchurch for a five minute wordless (and invisible!) solo; just put that name somewhere on the cast list and I'll Be There.

Not sure whether to wish for any Mozart or not. The NZSO is having a Mozart Festival in August to celebrate the 250th anniversary of his birth, so there's that in any case. Die Entführung might be fun, however. I also wouldn't mind a Clemenza, provided it was brilliantly staged.

There are other things I'd like to hear of course, old and new. Ainadamar interests me greatly, not just because I love Golijov's Three Songs for soprano & orchestra to distraction, but also because of the lovely Anne-Carolyn's eloquent posts on the subject. Funnily enough, Miguel Harth-Bedoya, who conducted Ainadamar in Santa Fe, and will again at Lincoln Center next year, was is musical director of the Auckland Philharmonia until the end of this year. I'd love the chance to indulge in love of the French Baroque; and then there's William Walton's Troilus and Cressida. But that's really dreaming...

Elsewhere, Canterbury Opera is filling our annual Donizetti quota, with a Lucia di Lammermoor I'm planning to attend. (Tell me, are there any American readers out there with experience of Amanda Pabyan?) They're also doing Rusalka, for which I may or may not make the trip. When I watched the ENO production on TV I found it indescribably boring which surely can't be the case - but all the same I don't know whether I'm willing to take the risk. I am interested, however, in the 21st birthday gala they have planned - " artists from CO’s past and present " no doubt includes a few people I'd like to hear. The International Arts Festival, along with its Parsifal, is producing Tan Dun's Tea as well. Here in Dunedin we'll have some nice obscurity, with Salieri's Falstaff (provided it isn't postponed again) and possibly - I've only seen it mentioned on Anna Leese's website, nowhere else - the ultimate chestnut, Carmen.

So, roll on Wednesday. Go on, NZ Opera, surprise and delight me.

Newsflash

Kiri's coming to Wellington in February - and she's bringing Her Friend Flicka. No sign of William Shatner however.

Local talent

Some excellent news: Prima la musica cub reporter Rosel Labone (aka Our Girl in Wellington) reports that the Wellington Aria Competition last weekend was won by the absolutely delightful Allison Cormack, who placed second in the Lexus Song Quest in April. As an Allison Fan-with-capital-F I'm very happy about this. And second place went to Sarah Walker who's looking set to take over the world, quite frankly - it's possible Peter Hind, who judged the competitions here, will go down as the only adjudicator in New Zealand not to shower Sarah Walker with prizes. She's been winning everything everywhere else and made it to the semifinals of the McDonald's Operatic Aria competition this month too. (The excellent Madeleine Pierard made it as far as the quarterfinals in the same competition.)

And while we're on New Zealand singers, I bought my copy of NZ Opera News this month (with La Bellissima Donn'Anna on the cover, incidentally) and discovered that Dunedin's Own Stephen Chambers is the Third Squire for next year's Parsifal at the Arts Festival in Wellington, alongside an incredible (and incredibly all-New Zealand) cast which includes Simon O'Neill and Sir Donald McIntyre. Brilliant! And then I was aimlessly wandering around artscalendar.co.nz and saw that he's singing in Bach's Mass in G Minor in Auckland this Saturday. Really Stephen, you're becoming quite the cosmopolitan!

Also worth noting is Penelope Muir's lovely performance of the South African national anthem(s) at the rugby last weekend. Now, I really really don't know from rugby, but the game was on TV in the hotel room et voilà, Penelope, sounding gorgeous. And now I've started getting hits from Googlers in the UK, Spain and elsewhere looking for "penelope muir anthem" and the like.

The next NZ-based event on my calendar is, I think, the Mozart Requiem on October 1st. I know from her website that Madeleine Pierard is the soprano soloist; don't know who the others will be. Of course there's the slightest chance I won't actually be alive on October 1st - September 27th may well kill me. But I do love the Mozart Requiem - and I love Madeleine too - so I'll do my darndest to cling to life until then at least.

Oh cielo! Dove son io?

Osvaldo Golijov's Three Songs for Soprano Goddess and Orchestra were written for Dawn Upshaw, who according to the man himself possesses "a rainbow of a voice." I say, if Dawn's the rainbow, then Patricia Wright is the gold which comes afterwards, and - to me at any rate - infinitely more precious. In this soprano-adoring life which I lead, it can seem sometimes as if all the wonderful things - all the performances I want to, ought to see - happen elsewhere, happen overseas and out of my reach. On Saturday night, though, it was all around the other way. For once I was in the right hall, the right city, the right country, listening to the right (pun not intended but rather felicitous!) soprano - while the rest of the world missed out.

The concert opened with Chabrier's 'Espana'. I didn't really hear it. I knew Patricia's three Chants d'Auvergne were coming next - can I be blamed if that was all my mind had room for? The songs - 'La pastoura als camps', 'Bailero' and 'Malurous qu'o uno fenno' - were a dream, glittering, captivating, each brought vividly to life. A singer such as this is a torment, you know - a voice so gorgeous you want to close your eyes and surrender yourself to the sound alone, and a stage manner so enchanting you couldn't possibly do so. Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez followed (excellent, incidentally), then interval, then de Falla's Three Cornered Hat Suite, and then at last the point I'd been looking forward to most of all: those three Golijov songs. The songs captured my imagination the first time I heard them and they have not let go. Written for Dawn Upshaw but destined equally for Patricia Wright - a perfect marriage of song and singer, a transfixing performance of three extraordinary songs, and quite simply, one of the most magical things I've heard anywhere ever. As far as I was concerned, the concert ended there, with the final bar of 'How Slow the Wind'. It didn't actually end there - Ravel's Bolero followed - but I was miles away, staring at the floor and wondering how exactly I was supposed to return to normal life. I haven't yet quite managed it.

And all this after the kind of Friday a soprano devotee dreams of, though more than that I shan't say - I'm keeping that particular treasure for myself alone. Truly a glorious, glorious weekend.

La voce che adoro

I should have known my luck would run out sometime. Front row seats are always a gamble. They're not considered the best seats in the house, so they're never the most expensive. But I like to be close. Usually it pays off - my second row seat for Don Giovanni was perfect - but Saturday night was different. As you may or may not have picked up, I headed off early yesterday morning for Timeless Land, a concert of contemporary New Zealand orchestral music, including Anthony Ritchie's piece of the same name. Not something I'd generally travel for but this one had three special words in its favour: "Soprano - Patricia Wright." Right then, have to see that. Except I couldn't. Her solo came in the third movement of 'Timeless Land' itself. There was a flash of black velvet as she entered and exited, but that was all - the soloist here is very much just another orchestral voice, and so she stood among the orchestra and was invisible to me.

But in fact she wasn't precisely invisible - the piece has a film component, which included Grahame Sydney paintings, film of the Maniototo and - thank god - the performers themselves, including soprano soloist. So most of the time when she was singing, I could see her - or at least, the two thirds of the screen not obscured by the conductor. From my front and smack-bang-centre position, though, the woman herself was entirely invisible. All I knew was which side of the stage she was on, and that only from where the sound was coming from. It was a slightly surreal experience, sitting there and realising it was quite possible that I would have come to Christchurch, and seen one of my favourite sopranos in the world perform live - and yet leave without really seeing her at all. Thankfully, however, at the end of the piece she took her bow at the front of stage, and so I did see the woman herself after all. And my front row seat did have its advantages in the end - ample legroom for one thing - and it's good once in while to have a chance to pay tribute literally at the feet of the goddess.

However in any case, it's not really about seeing one's adored soprano, is it. Is it. No. Voce, voce, voce. Dio, che voce. The richness and expressiveness which make Patricia so desperately gorgeous in opera and art song, are just what make the voice so ideal for music without a text as well. Take a beautiful but boring voice, give it this solo, and all you have left is meaningless sound, a vocalise and nothing more. But sung by a soprano such as this - are there any others such as this? - it's a different matter entirely. The voice is warm, sweet, radiantly beautiful. And it's a natural beauty too - nothing forced here, nothing artificial, just pure and lovely singing which, even pianissimo, enfolds and entrances its audience. When Patricia joins with the orchestra, she is the perfect soloist, gorgeous and distinctive yet still blended divinely as an instrument. An absolute knockout.

Which is why I (though others disagree) don't think I was out of my mind to make the trip. The fact is, hearing Patricia's solo was not actually the only thing I did in my day in Christchurch. But even if it had been - it was worth that much, and more. Not very long, no, but length is far from everything. A thing of beauty needn't last for hours and hours. Besides which, why on earth should I consider denying myself a chance to hear one of the singers I love best performing a piece I may never hear her sing again?  Unlike with other sopranos, I can't fill my life with a thousand recordings - I have seven Patricia Wright recordings and so far that's almost all there is (all I need is the Bridge Songs which are nowhere). I need to see her live and for once I live in the right country, so that doing so is not only possible but easy as well. What's a trip to Christchurch, really? Nothing at all, especially considering the payoff.

It gets even better at the end of the month, though. Another trip to Christchurch, more Patricia, but this time a full-blown concert. Canteloube (sigh) and Golijov (bigger sigh). And sitting a few rows further back, too. Oh, the bliss which awaits me.