Everyone is a critic

Shortly before we moved to Florida, our 21-year old cat, who had been part of my life for twelve years passed away. I'm not really a cat person, and this one was not particularly warm or cuddley, but she put up with my singing and even seemed to enjoy it. She stayed in the room with me when I vocalized and made not a comment or meow.

A couple of months ago, we adopted a cat who is the warm and fuzziest creature you could imagine. Incredibly docile, it took him only a few days to start cuddling next to me at night and begging to have his tummy scratched.

But if I start to sing, he runs quickly from the room. Not a mild saunter, mind you, but a run of desparation, as if to say that he needed to get away from me as quickly as possible in fear of its life.

This cat and I will not get along.

Flying with Schubert

I love to travel. Not just the sightseeing, exploring new worlds part. I actually like the act of travelling. I love to drive long distances, to ride the train, to ride my motorcycle on the open road (my newest passion), and despite all that has happened over the past five years, I love to fly. To spend a long period of time, with nothing to do but to read, to listen to music, to close my eyes when I want, and to eat and drink, is something wonderful. One of the great experiences of my life was a 22 hour flight from New York to Singapore, on Singapore Air Business class (my former company's dime, not mine). I ate great meals (really), drank great wine, spent some time with a good book and enjoyed The Magic Flute courtesy of KrisWorld.

Over the past two weeks, in somewhat less luxury, I spent about 12 hours on four flights. I again caught up on some reading (The Economist and Gramophone are my periodicals of choice) and a little sleep. And I spent a wonderful hour with Messrs. Schreier and Schiff and Schubert's Schwanengesang. Although I'm extremely well acquainted with the two Schubert cycles, I've never spent any time with these final songs (definitely not a cycle).

Part of me thinks that the iPod is about the most anti-musical device in existence. It encourages the kind of passive listening that reduces music to background noise as you walk, run, or sit on a train reading the paper. I admit to using it (although generally not with classical music) as I run. In this case, I accidently turned on the Schubert songs as I closed my eyes somewhere over the Long Island Sound, with the idea of dozing for a bit.

I couldn't. I was mesmerized by the songs of great beauty and great tragedy and ended up concentrating in a way I seldom do. Schreier and Schiff's expert performance became part of my conciousness as my mind forgot where I was and I concentrated on those songs. Even with my rudimentary and long fallen into disuse knowledge of German, I could concentrate on the text as I rarely have before (and never before with the words in front of me).

I have no deep insights in to the works themselves. I have only the excitement of spending more time with them on future flights, or a quiet moment at home (I have two more recordings to explore) and the pleasure of looking forward to getting to know them better.

Wishing him well

Having read this article in Corriere della sera regarding Pavarotti's emotional state, I reflect on the many years of pleasure that he gave to my life. I have in the past quibbled about the stadium concerts and the lack of musical ambition, but I still remember the voice and think of the man, with fondness. He was the "superstar" opera singer of my generation in the public consciousness that no one else ever achieved. I remember a rainy evening in Central Park with particular relish and I may be the only person on the planet who actually liked "Yes Giorgio."

It was the most beautiful voice of the era and there are many recordings that remind one of the talent he once possessed. There were so many great moments and recordings, that I would hesitate to name just one to think of him by. (Guglielmo Tell is a particular favorite).

I do wish him a speedy and successful recovery.

Don't call me dumb!

In the August Opera News, Philip Kennicott writes an article entitled "Is Opera Still Relevant" which has generated a fair amount of discussion on the internet, in the blogosphere, and elsewhere. I'm not going to comment on all of it, because frankly I don't think he says much and I'm not quite sure what his point is. But I will speak to one particular topic. He writes:

This message took many forms: Come as you are; projected titles will open all doors. Yet as we look at what has happened in the larger culture, there’s a more sinister subtext to the message. Essentially, the opera world was one of the first places in our culture that said there’s no shame in ignorance. Again, it seemed like an obvious, populist gambit to soothe the nervous newcomer.

I considered projected titles a tool; not a end but a means to end. It helps break down the barriers for those who are intimdated by the artform and rather than "dumb-down" the performance as Mr. Kennicott suggests, I think it enhances the performance and helps an audience member to better understand the performance. I have tapes of focus groups that show just that. Potential audience members, people who have identified themselves as "arts-attenders" although not of opera, look at the availability of titles as a way to "enter into" the world of opera.

Remember that it was the regular practice in the nineteenth century to have the libretto available and the lights up during a performance, so that the audience could read along. This is not something new, it is just the twentieth and twenty-first century incarnation of that same paradigm. This doesn't preclude an audience from investigating the artform more deeply. Rather I think it encourages them to begin the process that will lead to a deeper understanding of a work. At our opera company the pre-performance lectures are always standing-room only, suggesting that our audiences want not only to experience the performance, but to understand it and thereby enhance their experience.

Sorry, I don't buy the come as you are (another barrier to be broken down), projected translations phenomenon as a dumbing-down. I think it leads to a more intelligent and active audience.

Wasn't she great?

The single greatest singer that I believe that I heard live was the fabulous Christa Ludwig. I only heard her a handful of times, but each time was an experience not to be forgotten. The last was her last at the Met when she sang "Deiner ew'gen Gattin" with her back to the audience. Overpowering!

Get thee to the BBC Radio 3 site, click on the Radio Player and listen to the archived "Voices" program with a charming interview and some great singing.

Just because I don't like her

Once again, with the death of Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, there has been a fair about of talk about the personality and actions of an artist in relation to the art. Can they remain separate or should we weigh one against the other?

Richard Wagner was a loathsome human being. He used and abused his friends, was virulently anti-Semitic, and demanded complete devotion from anyone who he deigned to call his friend. And yet he created some of the greatest music known to man. How did people react to this before the Nazis? And once Hitler coopted his music for his purposes, through no direct action of Wagner's, how does that change our views of the artist.

Try as I might, I really want to hate Angela Gheorghiu. I've heard enough tales, publicly and privately, about her personality that I don't want to enjoy her singing. And yet I do. Does this make me flawed?

It is a dilemma to which I'm afraid we'll never have an answer. Nor will I even pretend. I'll just keep listening and try as best I can to keep an open mind and yet be sensitive to other's opinions.

On Elisabeth Schwarzkopf

I wish I could write an appreciation of this estimable artist. But I have to admit to having been turned off by her early and apart from her Marschallin in the first von Karajan recording of Der Rosenkavalier, the first Four Last Songs and a lieder recital or two, I've never delved into her work as I have with other singers.

Both her life and career will spark debate and that is how it should be. I leave it to others much more qualified than I to discuss her. For me, I'll put on the Rosenkavalier and perhaps find another recording and try to find what others have already found.

More about Schwarzkopf:

• Wikipedia


• a southern gal in the north


• Terry Teachout (with links to two major obits)


• On an Overgrown Path


• Jessica Duchen


• Opera e demais interesses (some nice pictures)


• Vissi d'amore