Statistics

Patty at oboeinsight has posted a link to this weblog survey and in lieu of an actual post I thought I would link to it too.

I quit my job yesterday so things are in a bit of flux. More on this and other things shortly....

Yes, it sometimes was like that

As I contemplate my last Sunday in the church job that I've had for 12 years, I was reading the notes for William Bolcom's Songs of Innocence and Experience, where I read:

In the chorus of a St Matthew Passion performance when a student in Seattle, I experienced a deep feeling of oneness with the whole community of musicians onstage that permeated my soul; we were singers and instrumentalists, each from different disciplines, brought spiritually together by Bach’s music.

It wasn't always like that, but sometimes it was. And when it was, I remembered why I was a musician.

Things I would do if I had the time

• Practice - Since I am no longer actively pursuing a vocal career, I've slacked off unforgiveably. But I still love to sing and try to do it when I can. I need to practice more.
• Listen to one of my four recordings of the Ring straight through, with a score
• Practice
• Watch the video of Ernani which I got from Netflix and has been sitting on my shelf forever
• Practice
• Listen to the unopened recording of Albert Herring sitting on my shelf
• Practice
• Organize my CD and LP collection into some order in which I could actually find things when I wanted them
• Finish the book I'm currently reading (Proust's Swann's Way), continue the book I've started but have put aside for a while (Girardi - Puccini: His International Art) and start the book I've been wanting to read (Joseph Horowitz - Classical Music in America: A History of Its Rise and Fall)
• And, oh yes, Practice!
  

Tosca Finalmente Mia!

When I was growing up in NY, the bass Lorenzo Alvary had a radio program on WNYC called Opera Topics. Because of the length of the program it was usually excerpts although sometimes he fit in a complete opera recording (occasionally split over two programs). This program introduced me to Verdi's Il Corsaro (long before I'd heard many of his other greater works), when the Philips recording was released and also a recording of Tosca made shortly after her defection by Galina Vishnevskaya and conducted by her husband, Mstislav Rostropovich. I've long had great affection for this recording, have had in on LP for years and at long last, it has been released on CD (although this cover looks a lot more like Carmen than Tosca. The original LP cover with a regal and fierce Vishnevskaya was much more appropriate.)

It does not in anyway displace Callas/DiStefano/Gobbi/DeSabata in my affections, but it is nonetheless an exciting recording and well worth a listen (those with iTunes can get it there for USD 11.99). At this late date, Vishnevskaya's voice is rather steely and somewhat wobbly, but she is fiercely committed in her portrayal. Hers was never really a beautiful voice, but it has a plangency and dramatic fire that work for me in this role. Matteo Manuguerra is a baritone who I have always thought was underrated (he is a wonderful Nabucco in the Muti-lead recording of that opera) and I think he makes a wonderful subtle, yet beautifully sung, Scarpia. Subtle was never a term that described Franco Bonisolli's singing, but it is a beautifully sung Cavaradossi. His voice is very individual, powerful and with a secure top (it's a shame his personality was somewhat less secure). Rostropovich's conducting is individual but always vital.

Speaking of Vishnevskaya, her autobiography is for me the one truly indespensible singer biography. It is fascinating from cover-to-cover and one of the few such books to which I return regularly.

Update: vilaine fille expounds much more eloquently than I can on this subject and more.

Among the missing

I've been among the missing recently due to factors, pretty much beyond my control. Things are happening and fast in my life and it leaves little time for just about anything else. I won't bore you with the details (and some are not yet ripe for public consumption), but I'll be dropping hints here in case you're interested.

I wish I had more time at the computer, because in my 7 hours of driving on Saturday, I thought up a detailed and personal blog post on music and the place that it has in my life and memory. Unfortunately it is impossible to type and drive, so someday, maybe I'll have time to commit it here.

Nonetheless, time hasn't been entirely wasted. I did hear and see Deborah Voigt looking and sounding wonderful at the NY Philharmonic last Thursday. She sang the Berg Frühe Lieder, which I can admit to taking to immediately, I thought she did brilliantly with wonderful tone and spectacular diction. I can quibble only in that it didn't exploit her radiant top, the best part of her voice, but that's Berg's fault not hers. I have to admit to finding Maazel's podium manner somewhat offputting in the Berg (I felt like he was rushing us through it), but did think he was fully engaged in the Bruckner 3rd, which was new to me and which I fully enjoyed.

In any case, I'm off on business travels for a few days, but hopefully not gone for too long. Until then, if you have nothing to do, spend a day in a beautiful part of Brooklyn, celebrating its great poet and his Leaves of Grass.

Meme

Although I am not, nor ever have been 15 year old girl, Sarah has passed the meme to me and I must comply.

Total volume of music on your computer?
Guiltily he says 40 GB. Despite the fact that I periodically do a cleanup, I had to buy a new external hard drive to accomodate. While it's heavily tilted towards opera (of course) and classical, there also a fair amount of jazz, cabaret and even some classic rock (although my experience with that particular genre ended about 1985).

Last CD you bought?
I'm contemplating a move, so I've cut way back in my buying (so as not to have to pack it), but I recently bought volume 11, Quilter Folksong Arrangements from the Naxos (formerly Collins) English Song Series as well an Opera d'Oro CD of Verdi's I Masnadieri.

Song currently playing?
Ralph Vaughan Williams'The Lark Ascending which is perfect music to wake up to on a sleepy Saturday morning.

Five songs that I listen to a lot or that mean a lot to me:
These are mostly because they bring back some memory for me. It's amazing how many of my personal moments are tied to music.

1. Nancy LaMott -In passing years. I don't know why, but this song moves me and leads me to think. Perhaps it reminds be of a time past. Whenever I hear it, I have to play it again and again.


2. Catalani: La Wally - Ebben ne andrò lontano A beautiful aria, yes, but it also reminds me of one of my first opera jobs, standing offstage listening to it and so caught up in the moment that I was sobbing (luckily it was perfectly in character).


3. Don McLean: American Pie - Till Tomorrow. A favorite album from my youth and one that recalls a sad but fond memory.


4. Verdi: Simon Boccanegra - Plebe, patrizii, popoli. I love Verdi, perhaps above all. I can't decide whether I think this or the Otello Love duet is his greatest moment, but does it really matter?


5. Puccini: La Boheme - Sono andati (Act IV). This simple but incredibly effective setting of the text never fails to move me to tears.
   

Five people to whom I'm passing the baton
Hmm? To whom do I dare? Can I get back to you on this?

Out of range

I've in London on business for the past few days, which is why I've disappeared for a bit. A badly timed visit I'm afraid. I wasn't able to get to an opera or concert because of work commitments. I did catch Pinter's The Birthday Party with extraordinary performances by Eileen Atkins, Henry Goodman and Paul Ritter.

While I was away, the big news was the jailing of the donor Alberto Vilar. There has been little comment on this in the blogs I read (apart from La Cieca). There are many reports in the NY Times on his demise. I have to say that although Mr. Vilar made a bit of an art of the publicity of donating, I find the actions and comments by some of the former beneficiaries of his largesse to be distasteful. For once I think that Norman Lebrecht (via Arts Journal) has it right:

"Without Alberto, there would be no Covent Garden, no Kirov, no future. Remember that as he sits in manacles, and remember this, too: he didn’t have to give a cent, let alone pledge quarter of a billion dollars. It was all done out of boyish enthusiasm and the urgings of a lonely heart."

I think it is just too sad.