• Jake Mooney, Dispatches: "Hiding in Plain Sight" (The New York Times)
• Jake Mooney, "Opera to Be Staged at Hidden Brooklyn Gem" (The New York Times's City Room)
• Ben Muessig, Operatic new Billyburg venue (The Brooklyn Paper)

L’Oracolo, Nov. 6–8 at McCaddin Memorial Theater (288 Berry St. between South Second and Third Streets), 8 pm. Tickets, $20. For information, call (718) 312-8064.

It's a bit sped-up (and annoyingly intercut with still shots in this version), but it's wonderful to see the gestures in action on the younger, somewhat heavier Callas. All the video of her on stage heretofore released has featured her in her slim years. In those videos, each movement, each transition from attitude to attitude was a great deal more taut and wiry—even in the tender moments. Here, the softness of her form lends more grace and more overall power.

It's a shame that Trrill's is just now getting off the ground again. I fear that since La Cieca and Maury and all those queens haven't posted it, it may not get noticed!

UPDATE: Just minutes after posting this entry, I discovered more previously unknown-to-me video footage of Callas on stage—this time rehearsing Medea at Epidaurus in 1961 (embedding is disabled). There are the Toscas, the Lisbon Traviata, the bits of Medea with Vickers, and the Paris Norma snippets. Is there anything else I don't know about? Anything some dumb collector is holding from the rest of us?

…or perhaps from her airport tussle with ANTM contestant Bianca Golden…

…but I bet you don't know her from her 2006 turn as the fiery Carmen at Great Neck South High School:

Bettina: that's a faye done away joint, right?

me: you mean disjoint. that movie is a freak.

Bettina: can her right eye see ghosts?

me: i can't really even explain that movie.
because it should've been better.
i liked the decor.
and tommy lee jones in bellbottoms.
faye is so camp.

Bettina: she always has been. somehow she tricked people with bonnie and clyde, though

me: RIGHT?
i'll be honest, though: Mommie Dearest—that's no trick.

Bettina: no treat, either!

Well, the tricks and treats are everywhere in Laura Mars:

Wait, no…

Um…

Ah. Ah, yes.

Nelson Eddy - "Vision fugitive" from Massenet's Hérodiade

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On November 6, 7, 8, OperaOggiNY, a newish opera company geared toward providing dedicated attention to young singers, will present Franco Leoni's 1905 one-act opera L'Oracolo.

A 600 seat, "theater" complete with 50 foot proscenium arch raked stage and a balcony, plenty of fly space with classic brick and wood and plaster construction has been found and is about to be opened to the public by a collaboration between OperaOggiNY and the St. Peter and Paul parish.

Rehearsals, started this week, are already bringing serious opera back to the theater. With Music Director, Bill Lewis, (coach to none other than the Met's Marcello Giordani and accompanist to all of Ronan Tynan's appearances) as part of the mix, these two very serious performers are preparing L'Oracolo, by Leone. Although presented within the last 2 years in a concert version in Manhattan, this is the first time that the work has been staged in an extremely long time. This one act verismo opera. composed by Leoni, who was a student with Puccini and part of Ponchielli's studio, will not disappoint. Set in San Francisco's China Town, cerca 1900, it was all the rage at the Met while Antonio Scotti was a star.

I don't even know if L'Oracolo's any good, but first of all, Scotti's look was MAJOR:

Even at its peak, my tail wasn't that good. This photo (with all its unnecessary dithering) makes me want to buy a clip-on piece so I can braid it and helicopter it around the club while I've serving dramatics. Like so:

Secondly, Chinese characters' names transliterated into Italian:

Uin-Scî, vecchio sapiente, (Baritono)
Cim-Fen, padrone d'una taverna d'oppio, (Baritono)
Uin-San-Lui, figlio di Uin-Scî, (Tenore)
Hu-Tsin, ricco mercante, (Basso)
Hu-Cî,un bambino, figlio di Hu-Tsin, (Ruole mute)
Ah-Joe, nipote di Hu-Tsin, (Soprano)
Hua-Quî, governante di H-Cî, (Contralto)

Try to sing one of those without cracking up. Try it.

Thirdly, the opera's set in San Francisco's Chinatown, just like my favorite Chinese-American farce, Big Trouble in Little China. Get into this movie. There's a character with the unlikely name of "Egg Shen," and you get to see a young Kim Catrall soaking wet without there being any oversexed innuendoes you find in her later Sex in the City œuvre. There's so much going on in Big Trouble—someone splashing alley pothole puddle water into Kurt Russell's eyes (hi, Bettina), James Hong saying "creamy jade," and a special effects team allowing their Garbage Pail Kids card collections get the best of them:

If L'Oracolo is half this good/bad, I'll be thrilled. It seems like a pretty serious sing for "Ah-Joe":

Continuing the name-based lulz, the soprano in the video is Graciela de Gyldenfeldt.

At first I was pissed because Amazon has not gotten on the ball with their MP3 download service, so I couldn't/can't listen to this recording with Sutherland and Gobbi. But THEN, I read the description and saw this little tidbit, which is—I'm sorry—the best thing in the history of opera:

Set in San Francisco's Chinatown and ending with death by pigtail strangulation, the opera had its world premiere on 28 June 1905 at Covent Garden.

I am so there.

See also:

• Asian riff
• Ching chong
• Inner Wang

1. act like you went to college
2. have "nervous hair"
3. deliver lines like you're at a screentest or actors' first read-through

I do respect that she manages to keep everything just a pitch below Sally Field's absolutely unhinged hysteria. Do you know how much you risk as a film director when you let Diane Keaton (or anyone, for that matter) lean up against a wall like a time out doll and then whip around to respond to some buffoonery in the next room?

There's an appalling dearth of screencaps from Interiors on the internet, but if you haven't seen the movie, let me at least sum up the color palette for you:

This is also the movie that, when I saw first saw it a couple months ago, made me break down and get a pair of Breuer Cesca chairs. As it's apparently the most-copied chair design of the 20th century, I don't have any idea how "original" mine are. I'm perfectly content imagining they were carefully chosen by a bookish homemaker wife living in Air Force base housing circa 1982. Furthermore, mine don't have a resigned-to-the-aggressive-side-of-passive-aggressive Sam Waterson standing nearby.

The trailer is ultra creepy. Reverb-y voices read quotes from critics in a public service announcement tone that seems to say "Do not abuse your children, but do see this movie, and immediately afterward calmly move to your nearest fallout shelter."

The transfer to digital, both DVD and on iTunes ($2.99 rental!), is way cleaner and lighter than the trailer. I highly, highly recommend this film. As if you need a recommendation to a movie with costumes by Joel Schumacher!

Thank God for editing. They took out the part where I said Brokeback Mountain is moving straight from the opera to the action figures to the lunchbox. I guess you can't count on everyone to love Spaceballs and Waiting for Guffmann.

But right now, FUCK THAT. FUCK OPERA. This is the only thing that matters:

Nomi, the lead singer LIVES for me in that wig. Those eyes, that (actual) man's voice. Shayne Oliver of Hood by Air (whose clothes I absolutely adore and are featured here) is giving me a Kwamé effect with that blond wedge. There's voguing, animated geometrical backgrounds, mystical overtones, glassware, references to videos I remember watching on BET when I was 13. Everything I ever loved about music, fashion, dancing, life—they're in this video. It's both nostalgic and very now.

For me, this is the most iconic video I have seen in x years, to say nothing of the songwriting and production. If you're not on the Hercules and Love Affair tip, you will be soon, along with rest of the world.

Photo by Rozarii Lynch

Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday are your last chances to see Seattle Opera's new I Puritani (my review and my farewell to Seattle). I can't tell you which cast to see. Do you want to see the one with all the stunning male singers and one v.v. shitty female lead? or the one with the absolutely splendid female lead and v.v. good male cast? Just kidding, go see the second one, on Friday.

I had a dream last night where I was at this soirée for rich, white opera donors (what a riot those people are), and Seattle Opera General Manager Speight Jenkins spotted me from across the room and dashed over to say, "I need you to come with me; we need to talk, mister." And I totally gave him the Talk to the Hand gesture, a Puerto Rican hip swivel, and a forceful "Absolutely not."

I got this juicy email a few days ago from someone working on the production:

Hi! I just read your review of I Puritani. I can't give you my name since I am working in this opera, but I have to tell you that you are right on, as most of the cast and crew would agree with you. Of course, Larry [Brownlee] is going to be (when he reaches the full maturity of his singing voice, around 45 or 50) a true great, investing the time he does rehearsing as well as simply working on his art.

How many times have we already wondered "why isn't Eglise in the gold cast"? I stand in the wings, working every night, and she simply brings me to tears. If she wasn't already happily married I would court her like the demented fan I am. Moving to New York may get you a better regular run of singers, but DAMN I am glad you saw her perform this piece!

-Secret Opera Worker

With this Riccardo, Mariusz Kwiecien's voice has become strangely coarse since his Giovanni here last season. Someone in the press room—don't remember who—said that Kwiecien had mentioned modeling himself after mid-century baritone Ettore Bastianini. Follia! Bastianini may have been an exciting singer, but he was not a refined one, and his voice was a size bigger than Kwiecien's.

Sidenotes: Is my vision going bad, or was that Mariusz sitting next to Speight Jenkins at the matinee? With all those promotional personal introductions going on around them, can we expect a pet baritone in Seattle's future? And shit, while we're moving new singers into heavier rep innappropriate for their voices, let's go ahead and sign him up for Wotan now. Also who was that other fellow who seemed to be following Kwiecien around? I'm can't say it wasn't his boyfriend, but there's a lot of stuff I probably can't say. Szszszsz!

Lawrence Brownlee takes the insane high F in "Credeasi misera." It's not beautiful, but it's there and it's real. Curious as to what it sounds like?

Even better, here's a splice of nine audio recordings (live, mostly) of other tenors going for that F.

And for those audience members who, like me, are in love with Eglise Gutierrez, good news: She's coming back for Traviata and Lucia. Of course also on the roster for Lucia is Patrizia Ciofi, who's not horrible. It'll be interesting to see who gets favored for the main (and broadcast) cast, but I'm pretty sure I know the answer. In any case, I hope Gutierrez decides to slim down in the middle. Oh, come on—I'm talking about the middle of her voice, but I guess nowadays, the other couldn't hurt.

I wish opera were like this, especially the crowd.

On a related note...

Jewel singing G. Battista Bononcini's "Per la gloria d'ardorarvi"!

Team Wedow?

• Seattle Opera rediscovers the noble simplicity of Gluck, by Fred Hauptman. Crosscut Seattle, October 17, 2007.
• Iffy Iphigenia, by Nicholas Scholl. The Stranger, October 17, 2007.

Team Focile?

• 'Iphigenia' a rare treasure in hands of Seattle Opera, by R.M. Campbell. Seattle Post-Intelligencer, October 15, 2007.
• Seattle Opera’s mythic interpretation is a knockout, by Gavin Borchert. Seattle Weekly, October 17, 2007.
• Brilliant singing, emotional staging bring "Iphigenia" to life, by Melinda Bargreen. Seattle Times, October 15, 2007.

© Bill Mohn photo

Anyway, it takes some patience, but there are some real gems hiding in that mess every day. Here are some of my recent faves:

Mark Wells — "Solitudine amata" from Monteverdi's L'incoronazione di Poppea.

June Anderson — "Robert, Robert, toi que j'aime" from Meyerbeer's Robert, le diable. Paris, 1985.

Legipsy Alvares — "Una voce poco fa" from Rossini's Il barbiere di siviglia.

Alessandro Ceccarini (age 24) — "Già insolito ardore" from Rossini's L'italiana in algeri. Pesaro, March 2007.

Mario Petri — "De la crudel morte de Cristo" from Laudario di Cortona ( 13^th century)

Last week, the Theater editor for the Stranger asked that a write a short piece on the disinclusion of Jane Eaglen from the Seattle Opera's 2009 Ring casting. Originally, it was to be a cute 300-word thing to fill some space in the section. I was really hesitant to do it all because I felt it would be in extremely bad taste. After our original lead story fell through, through, it was requested that my piece be expanded to its current length ("Why Isn't Jane Eaglen in the Next Ring Cycle?"). The more I sat through discussions and revisions, the more uneasy I became with how the story was taking shape.

The piece seems not to be my style, exactly. The sentences are choppy, and the whole thing seems to veer in this direction of Attacking Jane Eaglen and Pointing Out Jane Eaglen's Weight. That certainly was not what I intended, but I still do stand behind the real story (which I'm not sure is entirely clear)—Jane Eaglen is one of many singers who have become casualties of a changing art (and, more importantly, business). I wanted to indict the various administrations of opera companies more directly because—let's face it—Eaglen and all her colleagues, great and small, are simply trying to do the best within their particular circumstances.

The circumstances are what trouble me. I actually find it distasteful that Seattle Opera would turn its back on its prima donna and then be so vague about its reasons for doing so. It feels like more of that "truthiness" bugaboo that's been creeping into our culture. If the audience and subscribers wanted someone different, then I feel like the house should've been more forthcoming with what differences those same operagoers wanted. It's plain gross to be at the whim of nebulous, unmentionable standards and this retarded demand for "star quality." Jane Eaglen is a star, no doubt. Her students here have told me that they absolutely love working with her. And it seems she is a box office draw (though I don't honestly know if people like her or if they're under the spell of good marketing). From my knowledge and observation of Eaglen, she is terribly fun to work with and possesses a sense of humble self-assurance that is not often to be found on the operatic stage. Whatever the true motivations of Seattle Opera may have been, it seems to have left a bad taste in the mouths of Eaglen and her management, who have only confirmed the casting and not otherwise commented.

At the end of the piece, I make the concession that Jane will be better off without the pressure. Opera is in many places becoming a monstrosity that compromises its own potential with each passing season. It's come under the cultural umbrella that has us overmedicated, wrongly diagnosed, and treating symptoms of problems rather than their causes. The administration is under the impression that it's doing what its audience wants and thereby saving the art. But it may be that the audience doesn't always know how (or to whom) to communicate what it wants. Is it more believable to see a thin figure for the love interest on stage? Maybe. In the end the real test is when the audience closes its eyes and listens to the music. That is where the persuasion should be most powerful. Does the music (with all its attendant parts) inspire and engender a richness of emotion, rather than impose it? Does it ennoble the listener and empower him to analyze those emotions and values in himself? Is the music self-consistent (that is, do the parts of the music play their intended roles)? Is the text sung with the utmost clarity and evenness so that the poetry (and thus the Whole Work) is not obscured? Does even the music cause a reexamination of popular notions of expression?

If any one of those questions (and probably several more) cannot be answered YES, then the administration of opera is doing a disservice to the art and to its audience. So much about opera has been muddied with what I feel are base and basic concerns—namely the Sexiness and Palatability of the visual aspect. I really wonder what would happen if those elements were distilled and attention—real, critical discernment—were given to the music (especially the functional and technical components of singing). It feels that there is some hidden thing still inside opera—some roughened gem to be uncovered and polished—something that we're missing out on. That is the gem I want the world to see and hear. It won't come about by hiring big breasts and pretty smiles and MAC lipsticked bombshells who make appearances on talk shows and really "feel the emotion of the songs, y'all" but have extremely limited talent for synergizing that emotion with impeccable singing. We all know where that leads:

Such good English, these two. I wonder what language they use for their pillow talk.

Speaking of, remember when I was 19?