Gertsamtkunstwerk

Tosca at Covent Garden

I wasn't really sure what to make of this when I booked it. I looked at the cast:

• Debbie Voigt - although she features on what is probably my most favourite CD,Wagner: Love Duets I had read some fairly negative reports about her Tosca.
• Marcello Giordani  - I've never heard him live but what I've heard broadcast has not impressed me;
• Bryn Terfel - well, it would be just my luck for him to cancel, he has a bit of a reputation

Well, a couple of weeks back Debbie was announced as indisposed, to be replaced, for a couple of performances by Nelly Miricioiu and for most, including Tuesday's which I was due to attend, by Angela Gheorghiu (just to complicate matters, I'm writing this on Thursday night; Thursday's performance has Amanda Echalez).

On Monday we received an email informing us that Marcello Giordani was indisposed and was being replaced, confusingly, by Massimo Giordano.

So, Tosca! One of my favourite operas. In so many ways, the epitome of Grand Opera. I often think the music is exactly what you expect operatic music to be like if you don't know much about opera.

It's in three acts, and none of them is over long; the settings are such that it requires an interval between each of them . And yet it's less than three hours in total, including two half-hour intervals.

It has three singers of equal prominence - tenor, baritone, and soprano. There are several other comprimario roles which add colour, but it isn't one of those annoying works like Ballo, Cyrano or Fanciulla where there are lots of indistinguishable unimportant men hanging around.

All three principals die nasty deaths and it ain't actually over until the thin lady sings, then jumps off the battlements.

Last week I saw L'amour de loin and commented that it would benefit from tighter, maybe brutal editing. Tosca is just perfect, never any sense of any of the music being superfluous or inserted for its own sake. No unnecessary repetition, but appropriate use of quotation.

When I first saw this production three years ago, I felt disappointed that they had just replaced the famous old (1964) Zefferelli production with something equally traditional. But now I realise that it was a decision driven by the fact that the Zefferelli sets were falling apart, I feel more relaxed about it. I don't think it's a great production but it serves the work well, and with the right singing actors it can be very entertaining. I have now seen it five times and on each occasions I have had rather mediocre seats. Sigh.

So, how did the principals shape up?

Massimo Giordano entered and definitely looked the part. I actually had a slight double-take because he's a similar build and colouring to Jonas Kaufmann whom I had seen twice in this last year.

I remembered my golden rule about Mr Stand-In - he's going to take time to acclimatise to the house etc. I was not overly impressed by Recondita armonia. It was a bit dull and I detected a beat, a fast vibrato at the bottom of the range. But I decided that, in the circumstances, that he was good enough, I wasn't going to spend the evening wincing.

The next exciting bit was the arrival of Tosca "Mario Mario"; I was so thrilled to see Angela Gheorghiu, a very starry Ms Stand-In Woman, I almost applauded her entrance. LOL!

And then, suddenly, there was a moment in the duet between the two of them, when Massimo just let out Ah! m'avvinci nei tuoi lacci mia sirena and I thought, yeah, he's going to be fine! And from then on, I loved him.

He moved well round stage, seemed at ease in the (presumably unfamiliar) production, and had a pretty good chemistry with Angela. His Vittoria, Vittoria was of a high standard; just because it was not as show-stopping as Jonas's last year doesn't mean anything - we should never let the truly excellent be the enemy of the very good. And his E lucevan le stelle was a thing of beauty, a real sensitive heart-felt interpretation, good variety of dynamics, excellent breath control. All in all a very satisfactory performance, well worthy of the loud acclaim he received at the curtain call (he beat his hand against his heart to indicate he had been nervous!). I commented afterwards to friends that I would love to catch him in something more lyrical, or in that again in 3-5 years. Hopefully we will see more of him in the future at the Garden.I do so love the role of Cavaradossi, not just musically, but his character and his sexiness, so I am very hard to please in this role. But just because I have a clear idea of my ideal Cavaradossi doesn't stop me enjoying someone else who is capable of understanding, interpreting and projecting this lovely character.

It was wonderful to see Angela Gheorghiu. I think the role suits her down to the ground. I hadn't been entirely convinced three years ago, but I thought it was a beautiful, passionate and compelling portrayal. I have been known to nominate Vissi d'arte as a cut I'd like to see, but she was stunning, held my attention in the way it never has been before in that aria, which tends to hold the action up for me. One of those special moments that will stay with me.

And then there was Scarpia. Bryn Terfel. He was nasty. He dripped evil from every pore. Sometimes it was just the little details: descending the stairs in preparation for the Te Deum, he paused to look at a fading mural on the staircase, and ran his hand against the figure of a naked woman, right in her lady bits. Or when he sang La pvera mia cena fu interrotta after we had all seen the consequences of Cavaradossi's torture. Throughout, he was a dramatic tour de force, and vocally just as you expect Scarpia to be.

I can't really fault the orchestral playing. If I was less familiar with the work I would have been perfectly satisfied with the conducting of Jacques Lacombe; being so intimate with it, I found it to be a bit lacking in frisson at some crucial moments; especially in Act 1, when the soprano-tenor duet was not orgasmic, and the Te Deum, which I expect to swell in an outpouring that causes electricity (but I did get goose pimples). Nevertheless, overall, I did get a sense of intimacy and, at times, claustrophobia, which, I think, served the piece well.

Because of where I was sitting, I didn't do curtain call photos, but I did do afters:

Bit of a strange angle, but he is like fourteen inches or something taller than me!

And I'd like to say hello to Anna from Lodz, with whom I was chatting on the terrace (I hope I have spelt your name right!). Sadly, she is a Debbie Voigt fan, so was disppointed to miss Debbie. Also hello to Jane, Anna's London friend.

So, taken overall, a thoroughly enjoyable evening, starting with a pleasant dinner with friends, which had been preceded by chatting with more friends. A good atmosphere in the House, very little inappropriate clapping (in contrast, say, to last year, when ignorami had started clapping Trionfal, di nova speme l'anima freme in celestial crescente ardor;)   or three years ago when Marcelo Alvarez's glorious E lucevan was prematurely interrupted by some dolt shouting 'Bravo'. There was premature clapping at the end of Act II so the final chord, which completes the cadence, was inaudible. It may not matter to some people, but for me, an unfinished cadence is as frustrating as a shag without a climax.

And we had great fun laughing at some fairly outrageous outfits. I won't mention specifics, because it would be just my luck to be slagging off the favourite frock of a regular lurking reader! All I can say is, just because it's fashionable, looked good on the hanger and cost a fortune, doesn't remove the necessity of looking critically in the mirror and asking a) is it really me and b) do I risk looking ridiculous.

Saying goodbye

After the final performance of Cyrano de Bergerac, I found myself irresistibly drawn to Floral Street for one last chance to say hello to Plácido...and bye - for now. He'll be back, in the autumn of next year, singing Siegmund in Die Walküre, as part of the Ring Cycle,  for which Ticket Acquisition Stress Syndrome (TASS) is already developing. I was not alone on Floral Street; to test out the setting on my camera, I took random shot into the crowd (which I have made deliberately fuzzy)

As you can see I didn't have a great view of the Stage Door, but at one point a woman emerged who looked remarkably like Angela Gheorghiu, and was greeted warmly by those of the crowd nearer to the door. She responded with friendly greetings in  a heavy accent that sounded like Angela Gheorghiu. So I expect it was her, as she opens as Tosca shortly, but I can't be certain.

Raffe was with me and has a different tale to tell, which she may care to share in the comments box once she is returned to and settled in the Frozen North (no pressure...!)

I did have to wait a long time, but, thankfully, the weather was remarkably dry. Eventually, it became clear that Plácido was doing what he did on Wednesday - sit behind the desk inside the Stage Door to sign autographs and so on, which is eminently sensible, as I said in regard to Wednesday. The security chap told us firmly to form an orderly queue on one side of the Stage Door, and because that was at the other side from where I was standing, I ended up near the back of the queue. Which is no bad thing, especially considering that the security man had emphasised that there was plenty of time, we would all get to see him.

Eventually my turn arrived, and I just asked him if I could take one last photo, and I thanked him for everything. What a wonderful performer! What a wonderful man! What a wonderful past few weeks! And I do rather like this photo!

That was not my only meeting with him yesterday.

Jimmy and I had gone into town fairly early and had braved the inclement weather to trudge up and down Neal Street searching for a new pair of shoes for me*. We then treated ourselves with a rather delicious and superbly Value For Money meal at Porters on Henrietta Street. I had white onion and cider soup, and the luxury seafood pie,  both  served attractively and hot in filling portions, and tasty, obviously made with excellent quality ingredients, in a pleasant and relaxed environment.

We made our way over to Floral Street; Jimmy decided that he would retire to the Nag's Head whilst I waited outside the Stage Door. I had calculated that as Plácido had previously arrived at ten past six for a half past seven performance, he would probably arrive at about twenty to six for a seven o'clock curtain. It was just about half past five when I took my position along Floral Street, closer to the Nag's Head than the Stage Door, hoping that the unexpected break in the unrelenting rain would last long enough.

And suddenly, there he was, magically appearing on Floral Street, looking as gorgeous as ever and greeting his fans as he walked along. He walked over to me, smiled at me and gazed into my eyes with a slight look of "You - again!" (but definitely not - oh no, not you again!) and shook my hand.

Having spent the previous two hours in a restaurant I was totally sloshed and thus I flung myself uncontrollably into his arms screaming "Take me,  I'm yours." 

Just kidding!

I was far from falling-over-slurring-my-words drunk, merely slightly lubricated to the point of shyness-and-inhibitions-slightly-relaxed.

As he turned away, tenderly I caressed his shoulder. He turned back to me;  in my best-disappointed-little-girl voice I said longingly "I'm going to miss you..." Once again, he gazed into my eyes and said "Me, too!", making my heart go boom-boom-boom. Of course he is a total  flirt, and also a total professional who treats all his fans with respect, but even knowing that,  it was such a delightful encounter, and I can safely say with no hesitation that he most certainly did not glare at me! Oh no! I will remember that moment for the rest of my life...although all I really remember is once again being startled at how gorgeous he is up close.

When he was inside the Stage Door I rushed to join Jimmy in the pub, simultaneously tossing a red wine down my throat, gabbling incoherently to Jimmy and frantically texting Faye, whose initial response was "What are you doing getting drunk at this time of day?"

At the very end of the day, when Plácido was seeing the last few fans inside the Stage Door,  a crowd was assembling outside Bertorelli's, probably to wave him goodbye. However, I had received a call from a somewhat angry Jimmy who had been forced to drink copious quantities of Hoegaarden in the White Lion - this time I had gone too far! (Diplomatically, I didn't do the 'oh, I held a gun to your head' gambit).  So I had to dash away to pacify him, and we had a tense journey back to Brixton. On the escalators at Brixton, I said "So, if he had walked past the pub when you were in there, or coming out, you would have assaulted him?"

To which Jimmy replied "Of course not. I wouldn't do that - and especially not to him. I respect him too much."

But I still had to pay! Later on, when Jimmy offered to go downstairs and get a replacement bulb for the bedside lamp, I vampishly said "When you return, how do you want me?" His reply "Preferably not snoring." And when he did return, and had replaced the light-bulb, I seductively said "Please undress me!" His response "If you can't even undress yourself, you're too far gone!" Ah, domestic bliss in Gert Cottage...

* I use to be a a great buyer and collector of shoes, but nowadays I almost need dragging into a shop to get some

La Bohème

I'm never entirely sure about La bohème. When I did a review of a DVD I started off by saying "Let's start with suitably lowered expectations," and finished with "Madmusings - failing to 'get it', one opera at a time..."

Actually, not a great deal of change, there. I mentioned on a Newsgroup on Sunday evening that it is, at best my fifth favourite Puccini opera. I wouldn't like that claim to be overly scrutinised, but I definitely prefer Tosca, La Fanciulla del West, Manon Lescaut and even La Rondine.

Nevertheless, I decided to book up to see it at Covent Garden. I think my prime motivator was that Angela Gheorghiu was Mimi. I was really gutted to read that the scheduled Rodolfo, Yu Qiang Dai is indisposed for the run and is being replaced, mainly, by Tito Beltrán, and for two performances only, by Rolando Villazón. I know little or nothing about either Dai or Beltrán, but I really would have liked to see Rolando Villazón. I would be happy to hear him sing the phonebook. Sold out - Angela Gheorghiu does that. Ah well, I shall just have to satisfy myself in seeing Rolando (twice) in Rigoletto.

The production shown is nearly as old as me and older than some of the Principals on display. Safe, traditional, it works. Including the cast of millions in the second, Cafe Momus, Act.

Music - good. Storyline, all right. Characters, two-dimensional, but, hey, this is opera not Play for Today. I think I'm supposed to say, music great. But I can't bring myself to it. I was sat next to a chap in his late forties, who was with his son, a student, and was talking him through it. A little too much, I think. Didn't quite grasp the concept of shutting up when the orchestra was playing. Was convinced that the conductor was Antonio Pappano when the programme said it was Mark Elder (and it looked a lot more like Mark Elder than Antonio Pappano...). Asserted the tenor was Chinese - he looked very Chilean to me. But he summed it perfectly - all the great arias happen in Act 1 - Che gelida manina, Mi chiamano Mimi and O soave fanciulla - and it's worth going to anything with Angela Gheorghiu in it.

Although I have to say she sounded a bit below par, vocally. I wonder if she was being tacticle, because in the less interesting bits she sounded quite generic, but where it mattered those glorious gorgeous high notes were there in all their splendour, and, quite frankly, worth the price of the ticket alone. I wonder if she had vocal difficulties, she certainly seemed to be coughing a lot...

The tenor, Beltrán, was eminently forgettable. A whiny nasally voice, without the top notes required, and with, at times, a very vague approximation to pitch.

Most of the rest were perfectly adequate also-rans, although Angela Maria Blasi as Musetta was larger-than-life (over)-acting wise, and Jonathan Lemalu as Colline sang an eloquent Vecchia zimarra

But the star of the evening was Mariusz Kwiecien as Marcello, definitely to voice to watch out for again.

The Times and Guardian agree.

So did the Camden New Journal, after a fashion...

But musically, it’s largely a success. Making his Covent Garden debut, the young tenor Mariusz Kwiecien does sterling work as the painter Marcello – he will no doubt be playing the lead very soon.

Hint to Jonathan Allen:

a) Do your homework
b) Mariusz Kwiecien is a baritone - the clue is, he sang Marcello, a baritone role. Actually the clue is in the programme you got, no doubt for free, along with your free Press Ticket (paid for by taxpayers, donors and the ticket-buying public...ligger!)
c) The lead is a soprano role. That means, er, woman.

And he gets paid for writing such rubbish? There are some pretty piss-poor showers calling themselves journalists, if you ask me...Chap sat next to me would have written a better review.

Coming to a Big Screen near you on 30 June.

Update: Also in the Observer

Diva Worship

Angela Gheorghiu at the Royal Festival Hall, last night

(I'm already getting search requests for a review. Patience, folks...!)

Concert sold out, of course. Buzz of anticipation around the foyer, terrace and bars beforehand. A real superstar, appearing, one night only etc etc (apart from three nights in La bohème in June), promoting her new CD of Puccini arias.

Appearing with the Philharmonia, under the baton of Ion Marin. Programme in the extended entry.

It would be very naughty of me to say that the highlights of the evening for me were orchestral pieces. The Tchaikovsky is a piece I have known for very many years, and would have said that I knew well. I'm not sure if I have ever heard it performed live; if I have it was probably twenty or more years ago. I just loved it, feeling transported to another dimension.

I have a troublesome relationship with the Cav intermezzo. God knows how many different versions I have on various formats, in context, out of context, with words. And I never know before I listen whether I am going to love or hate it, and this bears no relationship to which version. Last night, was definitely a 'love' experience.

Now, onto the subject of the post - Diva Worship. Angela came out to tremendous applause, and performed her first number. Delightfully, of course. With perfect timing, as the final note died away, the first (of many) 'brava' was heard, from a box high on the right.

To be honest, I did not think very much of her performance in the first half. There is no doubt that she has a lovely voice, musical and sweet, light but with colour. But I felt that in the first half she was phoning in the performance. I think I'm supposed to mention what she was wearing - a simple black dress. Straight skirt. Spaghetti straps. I think. I'm not very good on remembering clothes.

In the second half she emerged wearing a flowery number with more diamante than a Pearly Queen. Very nice. She's an all hips and no boobs woman, with a prominent bone (between throat and 'cleavage') visible even from Row G of the Rear Stalls without binoculars.

The Salve Regina was, on the whole, very nice, but she seemed to get a bit lost about halfway through. The Un bel di vedremo was probably her best aria, when she displayed her beautiful voice to its maximum and actually seemed to feeling the role. During Chi il bel sogno I remembered how much I had enjoyed her in La Rondine, indeed how much I had enjoyed La Rondine. I may be the only person in the entire world who prefers La Rondine to Madama Butterfly, Turandot and La Boheme, indeed I may be the only person who has La Rondine as their second favourite Puccini Opera (after Tosca but before Fanciulla and Manon Lescaut). So shoot me...

Vissi d'arte was technically excellent, and beautiful, but bizarrely failed to engage me, to the extent that as it was nearing its end, I had a sudden distracting thought about some domestic trivia and even more bizarrely, "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow" from Annie flashed through my brain.

Applause and encores followed, always the time for the audience to let its hair down, clapping, cheering, brava-ing, and, of course, all the camera flashes going off. Ms Gheorghiu graciously obliged us with   four or five encores. You know I'm rubbish at naming tunes, even songs, even when I know them perfectly well, but they did include Granada. A bad choice, I have to say. It's a tenor's song, and didn't sound right from a soprano, especially one only going through the motions of being involved. Musica was much better, this is a Romanian song, known to many because she sang it at Covent Garden's Gold and Silver Gala in 1996 (available on DVD and occasionally broadcast on Artsworld).

I thought it was very nice that she was obviously aware of that section of the audience in the cheap seats of the choir stalls, who spend the concert watching the backs of all but the conductor, and she graciously performed much of one encore facing the choir stalls, only turning round to the main auditorium at the end to let the money notes ring out and fill the space.

Afterwards she was doing a signing session. I was thinking of hanging around, not to get an autograph, I am not an autograph collector, but  maybe to get close to get a photo. Instead, I sat down for a cigarette at the bar, and then wandered round the foyer people-watching. I'm sure she was there, I just didn't get to see her. And I could have been hanging around all night. The queue was enormous - three or four deep across the width of the Festival Hall foyer -  and I suspect that many more people were hanging around, waiting to join the queue when it subsided. Some serious Diva Worship going on, possibly more queens on display than a Sunday at the RVT. I'm just so amateur...!

My evening had got off to a rather unfortunate start. I had bought a rather nice soup - Pea and Mint - from Eat and went to sit on the padded bench in the bar area. I am not sure what happened, but I managed to knock over my soup, over myself and over the woman sitting next to me. I was deeply embarrassed, and, of course, offered her my name and address, which she refused. On the off chance that you are reading this, I have to say that I was deeply touched and humbled by your calm, sympathetic, forgiving reaction, something I will not forget in a hurry, and only hope that I may emulate one day.

Diva

I wrote this a whole eight days before going to see her Live. Ooh! I was not sure whether to post it when I wrote it or hold it over. I'm debating whether to get her Puccini Arias. I expect I shall, in time, but should I get it at Festival Hall, and join a queue to get her to sign it? If she does a signing. She's a bit of a diva, so she might not. I wonder if she will use a prompter at the RFH. Or maybe she knows the words of the songs on the album she's promoting.

I saw her twice in La Rondine last year, and as well as the Festival Hall Recital next week, I shall also be seeing her in La Bohème next month. She has a gorgeous voice.

This album contains a fair proportion of unfamiliar or only vaguely familiar arias. Although I have to say, I have many many more tenor aria collections than soprano.

The entire selection of music is really rather gorgeous, and as her voice is also really rather special, this makes this a very special album.

My favourites on this include: Qui la voce sua soave...Ah! rendetemi la speme...Vien, diletto from Bellini's I puritani - the Mad Scene. I don't have enough Bellini in my life. I think my problem with bel canto is that the beautiful bits are very beautiful. But I want more than beautiful. Casta Diva is also by Bellini and is also beautiful, but if I was doing a 'competitive aria' thing, I would have to opt for Joan Sutherland.

Non! Non!...Ah! Je veux vire dans le rˆve from Gounod's Roméo et Juliette is quite possibly my new favourite soprano aria of this year. I just love the colaratura. And I just adore Angela singing this. I also single out Lascia ch'io pianga (Handel, Rinaldo)

Listening to this CD, I feel that I want to revise my recent post on Renée Fleming's By Request. I so much prefer Angela's voice by an order of magnitude. But never ever go back and change posts. And never set up a comparative competitive thing between divas. That having been said, I think I prefer Renée's rendition of Massanet's "I march on the railway, obeying as your voice calls..."

It's always amusing when you read Press Interviews with Angela, they always mention the diva-ish things she has done, such as requesting a stylist for a radio show, applying her lipstick during a televised Verdi Requiem, and expressing her horror that she saw some other singer going about her everyday business wearing jeans "Divas don't wear jeans." Then there are the stories of her throwing a bucket of water over a busker in the Covent Garden Piazza, behaviour I can only applaud with envy. Then the interview says, "But she was all sweetness, blah blah blah." I hope she does do a signing session. It will be interesting to see if she really is Countess Dracula.

To conclude, having got this last year and having played it a few times, I then didn't play it for a while, and I am pleasantly surprised listening to it now just how much I like it.

La Rondine

I spent the evening at the Royal Opera House's performance of Puccini's La Rondine. It has been called the afternoon off of a genius. Not being a big Puccini fan, all I can say 'Thank God he had the occasional afternoon off!' Actually, the music was less then memorable, and it's hardly surprising that thishas been called - incorrectly, IMO - an operetta. But very nice was the music, sounding very Twenties, although its actual first performance was 1917.

I'm going again, with Jimmy and Mummy, a week on Friday, and I am sure they will enjoy it. I shall save a detailed review for then, but I shall say: Angela Gheoghiu was gorgeous in voice and appearance, Jonas Kaufmann doubly so. The costumes were completely marvellous and the sets were to die for in their gorgeousness.

Really nice and pleasant.

Guardian, Independent, Telegraph, Times

Angela Gheorghiu

Interview in the Independent

I'm taking Jimmy and my mother to La Rondine. Could be interesting.

Faust from Covent Garden

Last night's TV. I had been building up my internal hype all week, reaching nearly fever pitch yesterday, assisted by numerous relevant searches to this site, and an increasing number of posts on rmo. Mother phoned about midday, worried about the apparent lack of interval flagged in the Radio Times. I told her to get a downstairs loo installed before 6.30pm. Sister phoned at 6.31 pm fretting about the spanner in the works to our logistics for our Irish reunion next weekend - I told her it was a bad time to phone.

Jimmy was supposed to be going to some blokes do, but Bobby never got back to him on it. If the weather had looked better I would have proposed going to the Covent Garden Piazza. In the event, it rained there, but not here...!

My initial thoughts were posted elsewhere last night and this morning:

But my opinion of Alagna has increased exponentially - if, for no other reason, the way he flung himself around stage.

If I just wanted to hear high 'C's I would go to a recital of...high Cs. But
I want the total experience, which is why I go to opera - or watch it on the
telly. Fortunately, I have my opera-ignorant-novice fiance to explain the
story as we go along...(we make a great team...!).

And I just lurved Bryn Terfel's evening gown...

And Angela's blond wigs.

Excellent entertainment for telly - I was surprised that I knew all the
tunes, even though I thought I didn't know the opera. If I were being picky,
I would find lots of minor flaws. But trying to look at it through the eyes
of someone who's tuned into a terrestrial TV programme by chance, or was
wandering through the Piazza, I would say it was a fun spectacle. And we
felt that RA's cartwheel was at least the match of Wayne Rooney's (England
football star).

But my fave bit was the ballerinas in tutus - I'm on the wrong NG here,
aren't I?

Okay, to be serious, I am not a great fan of Roberto Alagna's voice. I
always think of him as competent - highly competent? - rather than 'doing it
for me'. There wasn't anything in the singing that stood out as a show
stopper, and in the duet with Mephisto at the End of Act 1, it was obvious
even to me, that Bryn was seriously outsinging RA volume wise - unless it
was poor miking.

I also thought that BT took a while to warm up - in Act 1 he sounded flat
(even though I don't know the opera - but had read the reviews). Even I
could work out that AG's French was rubbish. She had moments of pure beauty,
and was generally competent throughout. I don't rate her acting, but I do so
like her voice.

I've just remembered - Alagna as the old Faust was, to me, absolutely
startling - certainly on TV - how it would have come over in the cheap
seats, I'm not sure. But very very impressive - and with the make up he
actually looked at least, ooh, forty...

And I've also just remembered a startling homoerotic interplay between RA
and BT, in IIRC, Act 5.

It was an extravagance of entertainment, an excellent story, some sterling performances, not just from the three principles but also from Simon Keenlyside in particular.

Bryn was marvellous as Mephistopheles. Perhaps a bit of a pantomime baddie - but it worked. I just adored the fact that everytime something was about to happen, he appeared. And I thoroughly enjoyed watching all the different costumes.

Roberto was marvellous - opening as the old Dr Faust was amazing. And I did so like the way he flung himself around stage. I do not agree with what that woman from the Evening Standard said in the interval about him being the 'best acting singer around' but I will concede that he is one of the best. Jimmy said that the silly woman didn't know what she was talking about.

I'm tempted now to get ticket(s) for the Autumn revival - although it will be without Gheorghiu, Alagna, Terfel and Keenlyside.

Reviews of Faust

Update From the Independent
Another- /Update.

From the Financial Times; Telegraph and Guardian

This will be shown on BBC2 on Saturday at 6.30pm (what a shame that Jimmy is having a serious blokes' night out...!)

To summarise:

For sheer eye-popping theatricality, this is a spectacle that outdoes anything you'll see in the West End. The Walpurgisnacht scene, over which Terfel presides in drag, begins as a parody of Giselle, but rapidly disintegrates into an orgy of sadism and rape. Funny, erotic and disturbing by turns, Faust makes for a compelling evening.

Antonio Pappano was in his element, making Gounod's music sparkle with effervescence; Antonio Pappano's fresh, buoyant and affectionate conducting inspired the orchestra to pellucid playing, putting paid to Gounod's undeserved reputation for lachrymose simpering; Only Antonio Pappano's overly Italianate conducting disappoints.

Angela Gheorghiu was in gleaming voice; Angela Gheorghiu makes some ravishing velvet noises and flings herself into the role with passion. But there was too much inaccuracy and sloppiness in her singing (she was heavily prompted), and her French is rubbish; Gheorghiu, unlike most Marguérites, is capable of encompassing both the lyricism of the love scenes and the horror of her subsequent descent into insanity.

Roberto Alagna rang out proudly on Faust's top notes; Roberto Alagna's Faust was marred by patches of bellowing and top notes sustained to the point of vulgarity. Some softer, easier phrases were beautifully done, however, and he, too, acted enthusiastically; The real revelation, however, is Alagna, who gives the performance of a lifetime, physically daring - he celebrates Faust's new-found youth by cartwheeling round the stage - and vocally and dramatically responsive to every psychological shift.

Bryn Terfel made a predictably prodigious Méphistophélès with voice and character to spare. Then the Walpurgisnacht ballet went over the top with Terfel's Méphistophélès throwing off his black cape to reveal himself in drag, dolled up as Queen Victoria's rugby half-back twin sister in tiara and sequined black evening-dress; Bryn Terfel's Mephistopheles was all the better for being so understated - a little rough in the first two acts, perhaps, but chillingly authoritative in the latter part of the opera. His dragged-up appearance as the Comtesse de Castiglione in the ballet was a show-stopper; Terfel sings with panache.

You pay your money, you take your choice - hold on, you pay no money. It's free on the Beeb or in the Covent Garden Piazza!

Interviews with Angela Gheorghiu and Bryn Terfel

Update - do feel free to leave comments - the stern warning at the bottom is to deter silly kids saying 'u sck' rather then shy, intelligent people elevating my thinking...!