Gertsamtkunstwerk

From opera star to TV star

I've read a fair amount of criticism about Rolando Villazón taking part in Popstar to Operastar, and to that criticism I feel inclined to say. "Hey! Look! The sky hasn't fallen in... it's only a Game Show!"

 At this point I am going to say that I am a huge fan of Rolando, and have been for six years, since seeing him in Les Contes D'Hoffmann at The Royal Opera House. I have seen him live several times, have several of his CDs and DVDs, and I have met him a few times, always in a fan-star context, and I like him tremendously from what I know of him as a person, too.

The major criticism of him has been that by appearing on Popstar to Operastar, he has given it an artistic credibility it otherwise didn't deserve. And by supping with the devil he has de facto surrendered the right to be called a serious artist (okay, I paraphrase slightly but not much).

To which I reply - who in this life can afford to turn down work?

Or, rather, who, having been unable to work at their chosen profession for the best part of a year,  would be foolish enough to turn down a no doubt lucratively rewarded position. It seems  it required relatively little commitment - Katherine Jenkins tweeted that it was taking up two days a week for her - and she has all that extra commitment on slapping on all that emulsion paint and squeezing into those dresses.

Rolando isn't the first serious musician - and hopefully won't be the last - to have taken on an artistically dubious but short-term populist project.

 Straight actors do voice-overs for documentaries and adverts, and most top sports stars earn more from advertising than directly from their sports. With a few obvious exceptions,  it isn't often suggested that actors' or sportspeople's commercial activities interfere with their core business. And many people in the Arts have hobbies or personal commitments that are just as likely to distract them from work.

I would be annoyed if Rolando had cancelled performances specifically to do this, or if he was trying to fit it in during a run of performances, or skiving rehearsals to do it.

I would have been a bit concerned if he had done it straight after his operation last year, but he hasn't, and he's due back on stage in Vienna in March as Nemorino. That will be followed by a short tour of Handel, which I will be attending at the RFH.

There are people who have declared that Rolando's singing career is over. The dafter of those cite as evidence the fact that he has announced he has dropped roles such as Don Carlo and Don José from his repertoire.

There were plenty enough people saying years ago that these are not suitable for his voice and he should give them up lest he goes the way of José Carreras - a minor tenor whose entire career was a failure (I jest, in case you fail to see that!). Giving them up has attracted criticism, but keeping them and adding roles such as Cavaradossi would also have attracted criticism.

I don't know enough about vocal cord cysts or indeed about vocal cords to be able to guess whether there is an inevitable trajectory towards doom. I simply don't know.

Natalie Dessay had nodules on her vocal cords and as far as I can see is maintaining a decent career, notwithstanding Thursday night*. I think people who are predicting Rolando's utter demise are rubbing their hands together in glee. They should have the manners and common decency to at least wait and see.

I haven't managed to catch Rolando on many of the chat-shows he has appeared on, because they have been on during the day, when I have been otherwise engaged. I have caught some on catch-up player and it doesn't surprise me how he comes across. One of my many criticisms of Katherine Jenkins is how she seems to fill the quota for 'classical musicians' on chat-shows, because she actually retains someone as a 'TV-placer' and has nothing better to do than endlessly promote her album and her tour. Yet she never actually discusses music, except to diss opera singers and distort opera as being expensive and so on.

Classical musicians are harder to pin down, because of the long hours spent rehearsing, because International Stars rarely spend more than a few short weeks in London, and because many of them are foreigners and thus assumed not to speak English fluently by the air-heads that book guests for these shows.

So having Rolando on chat shows such as Loose Women and other such programmes is a good thing. I dismiss people who claim that something is elitist and inaccessible even though it's occasionally on the TV, but I do accept that many people won't instinctively turn to watch a full televised opera. (Sky Arts aside, two of the last three operas shown on British TV  - Don Carlo and La Boheme - starred Rolando Villazón).

Rolando is an enthusiastic and engaging person who, above all, displays passion. Mainly for opera but for other subjects too, such as philosophy and literature. A really good example of how it is possible to be intelligent and thinking, and fun and funny and down-to-earth - really inspirational.

He can 'talk opera' as well as anybody, knowing and understanding the music and the traditions, how to act and create a character, and how to connect over the footlights with an audience. He seems genuinely down to earth and not up himself, which I think always conveys well on TV.

His recent album Tenor is currently at Number 18 in the general Album charts. I don't think it's his best album, although I enjoy it and have played it several times. None of his previous, arguably better, albums have reached such a high position in the charts, which shows that a little marketing goes a long way.

I often wonder why serious musicians don't market their CDs more widely. The simple answer is that they don't have the time. (See above about long hours for rehearsals).

Unlike most of the commercially manufactured crossover stars, their appeal is international, so even if they had the time to promote their CDs in one market such as the UK, they can't necessarily repeat for each of France, Germany, Italy, Japan, etc. And yes, the same would apply to International pop and rock stars. But their entire careers, too,  consist of recording and promoting CDs to promote the tours that promote the CDs. 

I will confess that I have slightly mixed feelings about Rolando's sudden fame. I am certain that I was the first UK blogger (and possibly worldwide) to declare myself a fan of his. And it was he who made me realise that opera singers are capable of vanity googling.

I like it that when we meet we hug. (Don't get me wrong, I'm not deluding myself that's anything more meaningful than a fan-singer thing). So a part of me begrudges sharing him too widely, even when a bigger part of me is delighted at the positive response from the general TV viewing audience - at least as I see it from the internet and the odd conversation at work.

* Natalie had pharyngitis and had to cancel after the First Act of La Somnambula at Paris Bastille. Unbelievably, there was no cover, so the rest of the performance had to be cancelled - no arrangements even for a scarcely adequate nobody to sing from the wings or pit, with music stand, while Natalie mimed.

The worst thing, reportedly, was that the cancellation announcement came after serving of champagne and canapés - and no refunds!

If that happened in London, there would be barely disguised tutting: in Paris I'm surprised they didn't call a General Strike and eat the elephant in the zoo.

Rolando's got Talent

I love this!

Una furtiva lagrima

Katherine's Got Opera

A preview of Pop Star to Opera Star

I really don't know what to say about this. Several people have written previews or opinion pieces, and I am not sure there is really anything to say.

But when has that ever stopped me throwing in my three penn'orth. Of course I am going to watch it, I think my blog readers expect it of me. I assume my reader has already read sufficient on other blogs, or the mainstream media, or in links I have previously provided, to have a general gist of what it's about. Eight people of little artistic consequence are going to be coached into becoming opera singers.

Except that, of course, they're not.

My dread is that people will watch this and think that opera is just about singing something in a different style, in a foreign language. Just another style of song, and in a world full of song, who can be bothered to get used to a new style. And if that's the case so be it. I watch plenty of things on TV, find them mildly enjoyable, and then do nothing to follow up the passing interest they have provoked. I don't see a problem with that.

There is a possibility that people might watch it and want to explore further; I know that this was the case following the Three Tenors concerts, especially in 1990 and 1994. The logical path was to buy further CDs by one or more of the artists, perhaps starting with a compilation disc, and moving onto highlighted or even full works. Nowadays, I would say DVD, DVD, DVD, DVD. I don't see a lot of scope for this sort of development from this programme

It is well documented on this site how Katherine Jenkins oscillates between calling herself an opera singer, then denying categorically what she has ever done so. The way this is being marketed is to describe her as an 'opera singer'. She isn't, and she can't even blame media distortion, because she has put herself up for this in quite a preposterous display of chutzpah and arrogance.

That she is such a major part of this shows that the programme is absolutely not serious.

I am not sure at what point someone experienced in their field becomes eligible to give on-the-job training to novices. But I know for sure that one has to have some experience in order to pass it on. She has none.

She has had the same singing teacher since she was eighteen (there are those who state that if she got another teacher and started again from scratch, she wouldn't be a bad singer; in my more generous moments, I'm inclined to agree).

She has never really worked with anyone, such as a conductor,  who has had experience of preparing an entire opera, seeing how the different roles relate to each other. She does claim to have had a 'masterclass' from Plácido when he gave her some useful tips about 'breath support',  which is horrendous.  I mean, you don't go to the greatest living opera singer to learn about breath support. You go to experienced performers to learn about interpreting the score, about how you shade and colour your voice in line with the score, about the physical portrayal of the role, and of course the numerous tips gained from years of experience.

She has some experience of being a Primary School singing teacher, and seems to be citing this as something that is relevant. I can't see how. It simply has no relevance. You're dealing with people who are different physically, emotionally, in knowledge, in method of learning, perhaps in depth of musical knowledge. And you're teaching an almost entirely different activity.

I was intrigued to discover that Rolando Villazón is also participating as mentor and judge, not least because this blog was almost certainly the first to announce this. Several other blogs and their commentators have taken the rather pessimistic view that this signals the end of his career. I really don't see why. And he has addressed this question in his recent Telegraph interview.

Even more simple is the fact that most established opera singers don't have an eight week chunk of their life they can just block out at a few weeks' notice. He can, at the moment, because he is resting after surgery on his throat; he has also cancelled certain planned performances on repertory grounds.

I wish as fervently as anybody that he is back on the opera stage where he belongs as soon as possible. I do realise that throat surgery is career-threatening, and that's worrying, but plenty of singers have got over it. People on Opera-L may snipe and snitch at Natalie Dessay but she is demand at all top houses, and for good reason. In the meantime, he has an opportunity to make up for lost earnings.

I think maybe some people have forgotten - or have never known the time - when serious musicians appeared on light entertainment TV programmes. That was how I initially fell in love with Plácido, which I think is proof positive of the beneficial effects of such things.

I am extraordinarily fond of Rolando. Quite apart from his sensational stage performances and the several CDs of his I own, I like him as a person, I like his personality. I think what I particularly like is that he can be thoughtful, deep, reflective, intelligent, intellectual, and he also has a (justified) reputation as a joker. And it's not like these are two different sides of him, they fit together very well.

I think too often people appear on TV and they are conscious of the need to project a persona, stick to the briefing, sell the product. I don't see that in Rolando. His enthusiasm and joie de vivre is infectious, and I hope that that comes across on the TV, because he is the polar opposite of the artificial creation of a PR man's wet-dream. He is just about everything that Katherine Jenkins isn't. 

I have an entire category on this blog devoted to Rolando such as An Evening with Eyebrows and this somewhat famous? notorious? photo.

(which is copyright me and not to be reproduced on any Mainstream Media or for-profit site).

There are other Points of View on this show: Katherine's Got Talent

Get well soon Rolando

Mexican tenor Rolando Villazon needs larynx surgery, cancels German performances

Tenor Villazon cancels 2009 concerts due to health

Villazón Requires Surgery; Tenor Likely Out for Most of the Year

It seems that Eyebrows himself is to have surgery to remove a vocal cord cyst.

Rolando Villazón is reported to have cancelled everything for 2009.

My initial reaction was sadness - not least because I have a ticket for and was looking forward to his recital at Covent Garden in June.

On reflection I am hoping that this is actually good news. He's cancelled a lot and been in reported vocal trouble for some months. There has been way too much talk on the internet of catastrophe, involving all sorts of burn out, career apocalypse scenarios and general nastiness.

I would guess that something like a vocal cord cyst is beyond nightmare for a singer and wouldn't contribute to peace of mind. It must be pretty scary, though. For a tenor, having vocal cord surgery must be like brain surgery for the rest of us (just kidding! Rolando does not have the intelligence of a tenor!)

Hopefully,  the surgery and the ensuing rest, and perhaps an element of re-learning,  will mean that he's back and raring to go and it won't be so long before we get the full-on Rolando experience again - Manon, I think, at ROH, for Londoners.

Rolando Villazón: Sagt alle Termine für dieses Jahr ab
Villazon muss bis Jahresende pausieren

Rolando!

Wednesday evening, at the Royal Opera House Stage Door, I met Rolando Villazón.

After this was taken, he was very serious and very stern, and said that we must take another photo and I had to pull a funny face...

 

This wasn't so very long after I had turned to my companion in the second interval and said "You know, I think I've got a crush on him...!" (No 'think' about it!). I know this may come as a surprise to some readers, because I have adored him for several years now for several different reasons, but I've never had a crush on him before.

I really really really enjoyed the performance and he was superb - I thought he was good a couple of weeks ago, but he surpassed that tonight. Hopefully I will write a review this evening, because it really was a memorable performance.

Afterwards we were chatting, and I mentioned I was going to see Plácido in Iphigénie at the weekend. And guess what Rolando said (apart from the fact that he would like to see it but can't...) - they are discussing performing it together but have yet to decide on a venue. Now I'm not the sort of woman who begs, but I did say "Please, please, please can it be this side of the Atlantic..." (although I would travel, I just don't fancy Los Angeles. Washington, yes, but not LA. But I would, if that was the venue). "London!" I suggested (because that would suit me best).  And he said "London, why not!".

Afterwards, I was saying to my companion that it would be so ace if it was in London. Can you imagine, the two of them as Pylade and Oreste? It would be beyond heaven! She said it would be nearly impossible to get to tickets, so flippantly I said "I'd sleep with them, both of them, if that's what it takes." She said "In your dreams," to which, of course, I replied, "And only in my dreams..." ;-)

He also said he's hoping to do Rossini's Otello with Juan Diego Flórez. It would be excellent to see them together, and I might even endure Rossini for that, but I don't think I would dream of going quite so far for tickets.

An Evening with Eyebrows

A special evening tonight, spent in the company of the wonderful Rolando Villazón, soon to be appearing in Contes D'Hoffmann at the Royal Opera House.

By the time I arrived there was a long queue of people waiting, I suppose to get the Prime seats, and by the time the queue had filed through the door and it was my turn the place was about two-thirds full. I went and sat in exactly the same seat I had sat in for a similar evening with Jonas Kaufmann

The woman hosting the evening explained that Rolando had been singing in Hungary until the end of last week, then came over here for rehearsals, flew to Berlin for a concert with Barenboim yesterday, returned to London for rehearsals and 'is still full of beans'.

The format of the evening is straightforward. The star guest is interviewed by Christopher Cook off t'radio, and the interview is interspersed with excerpts from CDs.

Although Rolando's image is a clown, an overgrown schoolboy, and a lot of fun, he is also a very serious person, widely read, thoughtful and intellectual. The two aspects make for quite a combination. He is also very garrulous, he talks fast but not as fast as his brain is thinking, he waves his hands around a lot when talking, pullls faces, and also, although his English is excellent, he stumbles occasionally because he's looking for the exact word - eg he said 'interioralised..that's not a word...' and some people in the audience came up with 'internalised'.

This was part of his explanation of how he prepares a role. He was saying it was important not to internalise or personalise the role eg not base Don José's jealousy on memories of being jealous himself, but to read the source material and also to learn from literature, drama, ballet, art, in order to portray the jealousy. On a more practical level, he said that he will study the piano score, with a pianist and a coach, and for French, a French language coach - even French singers have French language coaches. He will then listen to five different versions on CD,once only, so as not to have a set idea of how any particular phrase will go. It's important also not to have too fixed a view of the character  eg you might have a sense of Rodolfo, and then turn up for rehearsal in Germany to be told that Rodolfo is a spider, and if you have a fixed view, you can't see how that spider fits into his world - he says he loves regietheatre. Also, working with someone like Tony Pappano, it's important to be receptive to his ideas.

He also expounded a theory about the changing demands on singers, saying that in the times of Handel and Mozart, technique was everything, talent was the servant of technique. Then things changed and technique became the servant of talent. He was dismissive of people who judge singers by how high that note is, or how loud, or how long, calling them gymnastics, saying he can go swimming and hold his breath under water for two minutes, so what. What is important is how the performer conveys the one key emotion that links the composer to the audience, what meaning they can put into the music.

He was asked about his childhood - from the age of eleven he attended a performing studio where he studied ballet, modern dance, acting, and singing, although more pop/musical-theatre type singing. Normal school finished at two, and stage school was from 4-10 every evening and on Saturday mornings, but in the end he had to give it up because he was neglecting school. He mentioned how he spent two years in a seminary, and sang at some concert, where he was told his vocation was singing, not religion. He then talked about working his way up, early engagements, and being a prize winner at Operalia. He wasn't motivated by the prospect of a prize but hoping to reach the final so he could sing with Plácido Domingo. So it was a dream come true when Plácido asked him if knew the duet from La Boheme, and he replied, O soave fanciulla, and Plácido said O Mimi tu piu non torni, so Rolando said there weren't any baritones around (see YouTubefor how that conversation ended!).

He was so full of praise for Plácido, praising him as a mentor; saying that it is quite incorrect how it's been written that the relationship is teacher-pupil, and that Plácido has been so supportive, giving an example of when he was in New York for auditions, he popped along to the Met for Otello, and Plácido invited him to go to Washington the next day to sit in on a rehearsal. He said Plácido was very apologetic for arriving late, and how much he admired the way he worked in rehearsal, consultative rather than dictatorial, although if Plácido had given orders, people would have obeyed. He says that he pours out his problems to Plácido, who won't exactly tell what to do but will tell him what he's been through. They'll go out for beers Rolando calls him Maestro Domingo, and Plácido says 'call me Plácido' but Rolando won't! He says that Plácido is the greatest singer ever (absolute agreement here!) especially for the way he completely revolutionised acting-singing or singing-acting.

Rolando was funny when he was talking about Plácido, and Tony Pappano and Marcelo Álvarez. It wasn't that he was mimicing them as such, but when he reported what they had said I could picture/hear them there. 

He was generally very funny, for example saying how when rehearsing Lensky in Berlin he just lost it completely. He doesn't know Russian, knows the part just phonetically, and he just got so lost that he made it up - and he demonstrated how he just made noises that might sound a bit like Russian, and afterwards people were complementing him on how good - or how improved - his Russian was. And he was describing how he got very nervous - firstly before his first Hoffmanns at Covent Garden, and then when he was making his first recording (although, for clarity, the recording happened before the Hoffmanns). He described it as 'I was shitting my pants', and it became obvious that some members of the audience were not...how shall I say this...in total approval, so he apologised, explaining that it isn't offensive in Mexico but he won't say it again, although then every 'sh' word like 'should' became a potential Freudian Slip.

After the interview he stayed for a 'signing'. Six different CDs were on sale, but I realised I already own them all. And anyway, I'm not big on autographs. We had a pleasant if inconsequential exchange of hello how are you, nice to see you and so on. And I took a photo. Initially he put his hand over his face, so I pointed out that I already have plenty enough silly photos of him (oh, did I go into bossy mode? I might have done...)

Oh,and hello to David who was as unsurprised to see me as I was to see him and also to Michael from Londonstuff, who've I've not met before, although turns out to be a familiar face!

The new Three Tenors - Features, Music - The Independent

Link: The new Three Tenors - Features, Music - The Independent.

Article on Rolando, Jonas and Juan Diego.

Is it just me or is it completely obvious that this article has been inspired by yours truly? firstly, the suggestion I stole from Opera-L and put to Rolando, and secondly, the renaming of Tosca as Cavaradossi...except that I (nearly) always rename operas to reflect the tenor lead...heck, I have been known to refer to Mozart's 'Don Basilio' and 'Don Ottavio'.

Not actual much substance in the article, though...

Don Carlo Stage Door

It was raining when we exited the opera house, and I had rather assumed that Jimmy would want to be getting home, but he was quite happy to go and sit in the pub whilst I played the role of Groupie at the Stage Door.  I managed to get inside the Stage Door Entrance, but unfortunately, in the place where the opening door must go in order to be open. At one stage I did find myself being constantly shoved by one rather rude woman who didn't seem to understand that my glaring at her was nothing personal, just that I rather resented her physically shoving me about. And after she had pinned me back against the glass panel so I couldn't get anywhere near Rolando Villazón, she turned to me and condescendingly informed me that she was going, now. 

I don't normally criticise other people (rivals...sss) that I encounter at the Stage Door. There are times when I think things but that's no justification for writing it on the internet. In any given situation people behave in ways that I think 'I wouldn't do that' but that doesn't make it wrong, nor right for me to comment. And I don't think that my own behaviour is beyond reproach.

I think everybody has stories of people who have so many things to sign that they seem to monopolising the stars. Sometimes rumours abound that people are getting stars to sign so many things just so that they can then sell them on ebay or whatever. I think it's an imposition and an impertinence. Last night there was young man who had a whole load of photos for Rolando to sign. Rolando was there,signing away and signing away, and lightly and not nastily, he said "Are there many more?" Now, if a star had addressed me like that I would have been - probably embarrassed that it had ever got that far; certainly quick to realise that I was imposing. But this guy just said "Oh not many more," and fanned out a pile of photographs like a pack of cards. Again  pleasantly Rolando mentioned that he would be doing a signing at the ROH shop on Sunday, when there would be more time...That will  be at about 7.30 pm, by the way. AndI still don't think this guy got the hint.

Anyway, there was nearly a full round up of stars emerging through the Stage Door. I didn't get photos of all of them; sometimes I just like to chat a bit,and if they're clearly in a hurry or whatever, I just think, don't detain them any longer. First to emerge was Robert Lloyd, I didn't get a picture of him, because he seemed to be in a hurry, and we had already had a chat.

Then Ferruccio Furlanetto, and I got a picture of him.

Next was Simon Keenlyside who I have actually never met before. He got to the outside door and exclaimed "It's raining! Thank god!" I said something like "You won't have to water the garden", at which he smiled and said "It's too hot!" It did occur to me afterwards, that he's got not so much a garden as a farm, so I doubt he gets on his motorbike down the M4 after a long night singing Posa and then gets out his watering can. I asked him for a photo, and he was all modest and "Oh no not me," but he posed nevertheless. He seemed very nice, and added bonus was that quite a few of his fans left after that, meaning that there were fewer people crowding into the tiny space out of the rain!

Next was Sonia Ganassi, who seems to be a friendly person. I took a picture of her but it didn't come out very well.

Then was Rolando, who took a long time to get where I was. Finally when I spoke to him, I said that I thought he was fabulous, really amazing,I really liked it. He said he hoped he was getting over his allergy. (I should have said, if that was merely 'getitng over' I would love to hear you when fully allergy-free).  Instead I said something about looking forward to the DVD; he said it would be the performance on the 3rd. Then I noticed that he had his suitcase with him, so I said "Good luck for Vienna tomorrow night. Enjoy Vienna" (I can't do all that 'toi toi toi'  and 'in boco del lupo' stuff). He said he was flying that night. And I took his photo. I can't think of many opera stars who would pose quite like this...he is the one and only!

Next out was Tony Pappano. I managed to say something like "Thank you for tonight, and for the whole season." 

I then realised that it was gone to five to eleven, so if I hurried, I could get in the pub just before last orders (isn't it amazing that all over the country pubs in fringe residential areas stay open until 1 am or whatever, but Westminster City council in their infinite wisdom have decreed that pubs in Central London, Theatreland and so on, should close strictly at 11pm, just as  in the days when the ammunition workers had to be sober because the First World War was going on.)

Rolando at the Stage Door

  Not a great photo! I had previously got him to pose for two other photos but my camera was all wrong*.

I had not held much hope of seeing Rolando Villazón at the Stage Door, because the production sponsors, Coutts**, were holding a post-performance reception. Someone asked him why he wasn't there; he explained he wasn't dressed for it - sadly not visible in this photo, he was wearing a Kermit the Frog t-shirt.

He saw me and greeted me with 'hello' and then a hug and a kiss, which was rather delightful! There were a fair few people gathered round, asking for autographs and so on. One chap said "I don't do autographs, but would you like to come for a drink...?" Apologetically, he said he was already meeting friends. So the chap said "Jonas Kaufmann did!"

To which Rolando replied "He's nicer than me." Pause. "And he has a bigger voice." A mixture of laughter and people, like myself, saying "You have different voices...". Indeed I put to Rolando the suggestion someone had made  on a newsgroup of a modern 'Three Tenors' featuring Rolando, Jonas and Juan Diego Florez because of the differences in their voices. His reaction was, it' s not going to happen***, although he and JDF are doing a concert in Paris, but it was clear that he acknowledged the attractions of such a combination.

He then went on to talk about Jonas's performance as Cavaradossi, full of praise. Someone mentioned the 'Vittoria, vittoria', Rolando commented on Jonas's piano singing. I was deeply impressed by what he was saying. His praise was generous and genuine and totally ungrudging. He was speaking like a fan. I guess it would be easy for fans and critics to create some sort of 'rivalry' but I definitely didn't get that impression from Jonas either. Someone asked Rolando whether he had any plans to sing Cavaradossi; he said five years. So someone asked about Otello (to the general horror of everyone around). Rolando said he would sing it once, then his career would be finished! But he did treat us to 'Esultate!', which was lovely.  I said something or other about how wonderful I think he is in the lyric rep, and how I am so looking forward to Hoffmann in the autumn.

I could have waited to see if anyone else would be coming out (Robert Lloyd and Sonia Ganassi had already left) but I figured that those who were going to the Reception could be a long time. I had work the next day, and while the Victoria line is closed after 10pm, my journey home is somewhat longer.

* someone had been twittering in my ear; someone I regularly stand with at the Stage Door. I actually like her quite a lot, but sometimes I just like to concentrate on the task in hand...

** I've used their cash machine once or twice

*** I think the 'three tenors' thing has been done already

Cielo e mar

A DG mini-site special on Rolando Villazón's new album. Not his debut solo album - I already have five solo albums from him. DG says it's released March, and it appears all ready for download, but I can't find it listed on any of my three usual sources for CDs.

However, there is film-footage on a launch event where Rolando sings. And the title track is conducted by Rolando's idol and my hero.

Marketing lesson #1: avoid DG (but he doesn't say 'the best conductor in the world", he says "best artist.." Subtle but important difference!)

Anna and Rolando in film

Yay!

Movie to be La Bohème

Grits teeth, takes deep breath, expires an ugly sound...No, not Bohème. anything but Bohème
Anna Netrebko: News - La Bohème Film and Lucia at the MET

Blogpost also contains live report from Rolando's latest comeback, a recital in Barcelona.

While I think about it, here's a Times article Anna Netrebko, opera's poster girl. I shall be seeing Anna on Thursday when she plays supporting soprano to Jonas Kaufmann's Alfredo, and a certain Cold Haughty Russkie plays Jonas's dad. I think it's gonna be good (okay, if I was In Charge of Opera Casting, I would not put either of the men into this opera at the expense of other, more suitable operas, but it seems to be what each of them wants, so there's like no way I'm going to boycott in a fit of pique). I must dust off my camera...

And does this mean that Anna and Erwin are getting married? Is it actually official that they're dating, I mean everybody knows (although SOSSLED failed individually and collectively to notice when they were in London for Don Giovanni in the summer) but has there ever been an announcement, did they ever invite the paparazzi to take photos of them canoodling in Richmond Park. Did they not consider that no celebrity coupling is real unless it has been Press Released in a flurry of attention-seeking? And most importantly, are they going to get Andrea Bocelli to sing at the wedding?

Rolando is back

I admit I'm over 24 hours late in reporting this, but, you know, being fast with the news doesn't always guarantee substance.

There have been so many rumours and counter-rumours circulating. I knew when his website was completely updated and included last night's Werther, that this was clearly the target. As the date approached and there was no announcement of cancellation, my optimism increased. But I understand that the Vienna Opera website is not always accurate about castings, so I was not prepared to believe anything until it happened.

Review: Villazon makes triumphant return:  Star tenor Villazon returns for triumphant performance of Massenet opera

Mostly Opera has reports, links and analysis (and the first comment is, I think, particularly insightful).

I have tickets to see him  - twice - in Don Carlo in June. There are two different rumours circulating that he won't be performing. One emanates from someone reporting Gramophone which reported that Jonas Kaufmann will be in it, which seems to be either a misreading of Gramophone or else an inaccurate combination of the fact that Jonas was listed as a late-ish replacement for tba as Cavaradossi and will be Don Carlo in the next revival. The other is that Ramon Vargas is due to step in. That I doubt, because he is scheduled to sing the (French version of) the role in Vienna in June, and I don't think artists pull out of Vienna in preference to anywhere, plus he doesn't seem to have appeared recently at CG, nor am I aware of future engagements.

Of course, the law of sod being what it is, one of tickets for Don Carlo is the same night Erwin Schrott is performing at a nameless concert hall in RBKC.

I wish Rolando all the very very best for his forthcoming hectic schedule of performances and wish to say a big yaboo sucks to a handful of unpleasant people of the internet who were rubbing their hands with glee saying "He's finished! He should have heeded my warning!" I don't know if I was the first opera blogger to go crazy about Rolando but I certainly did go crazy about him before opera blogging was a recognised thing. And he had better jolly well turn up for Don Carlo because there is a certain German gentleman, not to mention the constant Argentinian,  who are vying with him for the prestigious title of "Gert's Favourite Tenor (below pensionable age)". It's still neck and neck, but with Carmen/Tosca/Don Carlo coming up, the title is there for the taking. Possibly...(and there is a certain Peruvian due to round the season off with a concert, but I am afraid he is always destined to be trailing just behind...)

Update: After Mysterious Cancellations, Star Tenor Returns Triumphant

Two very different cancellations

Royal Opera House regulars are reeling in disappointment at the news that two of the brightest stars of the operatic firmament have announced cancellations for this autumn.

Rolando Villazón cancelled a number of events during the summer and into the autumn and his management expressed a hope that he would be back for the run of L'elisir d'amore in London. Earlier this week he announced his withdrawal from this and also from the second batch (in addition to the first) of Romeos at the New York Metropolitan Opera, one performance of which I was hoping to get a ticket for.

There have been rumours circulating in the media and on the internet about his health. One rumour is that he has hyperthyroidism and consequent depression and inevitable vocal distress. Which sounds pretty gruesome to me. Apparently depression is a common side-effect of this, although, to my mind, it's a pretty common side-effect of every debilitating illness that leaves one whacked out and unable to follow one's normal pursuits in life. If by chance you happen to be reading, Rolando, I wish you all the very very best and even though I am desperately disappointed that I won't have the chance to see you in either role, I fully understand your reasons and also respect the fact that you have given the ROH sufficient time to look for a replacement but did not hastily cancel too soon back in August. I know that many of my readers will join in wishing a speedy and full recovery. And I am looking forward even more to seeing you in Don Carlo.

And Bryn Terfel has a dropped out of the Ring. Thankfully he was only due to play a minor role, that of Wotan, who only dominates for three quarters of Rheingold, an act and a half of Walküre and, disguised as Wanderer, appears now and then in Siegfried. See, he doesn't even appear in Gotterdammerung. It's not as if the Royal Opera House has built this production around him and has heavily marketed it using his image. (Not that it needed much marketing). Oh, but wait, it has.

It was originally announced as being because of an extremely stressful situation affecting one of his children. Being an extremely empathetic and sympathetic person, I was totally understanding, even going to the extent of defending his integrity on internet newsgroups. Although I don't have kids, I know plenty of people with children about the same age as Bryn's, and understand that there can be all sorts of issues going on: health, or victim-of-bullying, or behavioural problems, or academic struggles, that create more stress than is necessarily apparent to the bystander, and the details are nobody's business.

And then it emerges, the 'extremely stressful' situation is that his six year old son has broken his finger. Seemingly, badly broken, because it needed to be reset in an operation due last week. 'Operation' is always worrying, far more so than 'broken finger'. So, it would be entirely understandable if he had requested two or three days off rehearsals to be with the family at this time. And then Mrs Terfel, or Fricka to her friends, gives an interview to the Mail on Sunday, explaining that the real real reason is that she wants him home. She would prefer if he recorded more crossover albums and did concerts (which presumably pay fatter fees than opera). Which is all perfectly reasonable in making future plans.

However, the whole episode is unprofessional and entirely lacking in integrity. I can't pretend that I bought tickets because it was Bryn; I bought tickets for the Ring Cycle, and knew that I could only contemplate Cycle 2 or Cycle 3, because Plácido is not in Cycle 1. And I made a conscious decision to buy Cycle 3 tickets, because of Bryn. Many of his loyal fans will have booked to travel from afar, will already have booked hotels and travel, perhaps non-refundable, will have booked time off work etc, and will be faced with the choice of cutting their losses and salvaging some money and the time, or attending a Ring at considerable cost whilst dealing with the fact that the object of their admiration and the reason for them travelling such distance has treated them with disdain and disloyalty. Presumably Mrs Fricka Terfel has no idea that the tickets went on sale - and sold out - on 1 November 2006, or that ordinary people try to reduce their costs by booking cheaper, non-refundable travel tickets and hotels. He had a contractual obligation to learn and study the roles and to turn up. People will always understand that singers have to cancel, either because of their own illness, or because of extreme family circumstances - someone cited Montserrat Caballe cancelling when her daughter had meningitis. But when a singer, who is supposedly the lynch pin of a major saga, the biggest thing the Royal Opera has done in years, cancels and shows such contempt for the public - who pay for his affluent lifestyle - the public have every right to show contempt back. Those concerts he will be doing, well I can't see myself being bothered to turn up, to be frank.

In the down-market media, people who know fuck all about fuck all have been praising him for giving up work to spend more time with the family. Well, it isn't like that in the real world. He has had ample opportunity to be at home during the school summer holidays, a luxury denied to most ordinary people in ordinary jobs, who have to be at the mill day-in day-out. Admittedly, that was time he was supposed to have been spending studying his part, but he did give an interview to local media that he hadn't actually started learning Wanderer until August. I would dearly like to send a copy of my bank statement to the Terfels explaining how monthly income less mortgage and bills, less Ring Cycle Tickets, leaves a part-time worker* such as me with a financial deficit.

Norman Lebrecht echoed many of my thoughts.

* but as a highly paid professional with no dependants -- other than the Royal Opera House - I'm not pleading poverty or sympathy, just stating facts. It's not a problem - I remortgaged with Northern Rock at six times income...

Rolando sings Zarzuela Arias

He has a new CD out. Dear reliable Rolando, always brings out a new CD for my birthday!

So for the fourth year running I have ordered a Rolando CD, even though this morning I opened two DVDs (Luisa Miller and La fille du regiment) and three CDs (Simon Keenlyside, Anna Netrebko, and Martin, the teenage love of my life playing organ).

Actually, I ordered the CD-with-bonus-DVD. Being three pounds more, it tipped me into Free Super Saver Delivery, saving me £1.50 in postage.

And there's a mini-site, including a twelve minute video-clip featuring footage from the recording session and interviews with the Rolando and the conductor, who's been known to sing a few zarzuela arias himself...!

One of the best tenors I've seen this week...! And a lovely soprano!

Last night to the Barbican for the much anticipated concert featuring the 'Golden Couple' Anna Netrebko and Rolando Villazón. Much anticipated, long ago sold out, and a very long queues of the dejected wanting returns.

A buzz of anticipation about the place. And me suffering from Audience Anxiety. The full programme below the fold. Anticipation as the audience took its seats. I was in the Stalls, on the ground level, staring up at the shoes on stage, and positioned very close  to the artists entrance.

The conductor took to the stage and started the orchestra on the first of the orchestra pieces which, with the best will in the world, were only there to whet appetites and provide interludes between the singing.

Then Anna walked on stage to warm applause. I have never heard her live before, and it as rather nice to be so close. Someone already a legend, and looking glamorous in a black dress. Escada, apparently. (Means nothing to me, but Faye asked her...). She changed into a different gown for the second half.

I do so like the Je veux vivre, and I was enjoying listening to her singing it. I've said before, I'm not a great soprano fan, although I had  heard some really lovely ones already in October. But I was enjoying listening to her, thinking, I can see why she is so popular, even though I'm not about to jump on the bandwagon. Then, suddenly, something happened, and I got goose pimples. Lovely voice. She'll do, I decided.

Then Rolando came on. I am a big fan of Rolando, and have been ever since I heard him in Les Contes D'Hoffman back in February 2004. Nevertheless, of the three arias discs I have, the award-winning Massenet and Gounod is the least played. I can't get into Massanet in a big way. And when I heard him sing ‘Ah! Parais! Parais, astre de mon ciel’, my reaction was "I've heard him sing better". This has to be put into context: when I hear a superstar I demand perfection, or something close to it; if this had been a non-superstar, I would have been thinking, how wonderful. I thought he was singing a bit too much in the mask (like I know what I'm talking about...) and interestingly, later on, someone commented that it is always a mistake to start a concert or recital with French rep, because the nasal quality of the language pushes the voice into the mask.

Next was a duet, Toi vous from Massenet's Manon. Their on-stage chemistry is much talked about and it was very evident in this, and subsequent duets. In fact, throughout the evening, I enjoyed the duets even more than the solo numbers. Not just the singing but the on-stage chemistry. Obviously, there is not much scope for acting in a few square feet at the edge of the Barbican platform, but I would definitely say they managed it. Acting isn't about moving around with grandiose gestures but about conveying meaning through facial and body language.

I won't go through every piece in detail. That would be tedious for you to read, although it was far from tedious for me to listen. There wasn't one that I didn't hugely enjoy, although, inevitably, some sounded better than others. The highlights were, from Rolando, ‘Mamma, quel vino’, which was a wonderful passionate delivery from a singer I adore so much. From, Anna, 'Les filles de Cadix', a singer I have just started to adore.  Duetwise, the most outstanding was ‘Tvajo malchan’je nepan atna’ from Iolanthe which was absolutely splendid, sung and acted with such heartfelt passion, spoilt only by the attention-seeking old bag next to me who insisted on shouting out "Bravi" before the music had finished...how about listening to the music?  Or if that is beyond your limited capacity, watch the conductor. He's the bloke waving the stick and sniffing very loudly. I have to say the conductor's sniffing was the low point of the evening. I don't think that he had a cold, more that it was a tic developed into a technique, and it quite ruined Kuda Kuda for me. Well, okay, not ruined. I have to be fair and say that it was one of the best renditions of Kuda Kuda I have ever heard. Trouble was,  it was nothing like as good as I heard Rolando sing it at the Royal Opera House earlier this year. As I say, criticism, because of my extremely high expectations. If it had been just about almost anybody else, I would have been beside myself with superlatives...!

Some encores, one I recognised but can't name, Maria from West Side Story, which was pleasant but probably the weakest part of the evening - oh heck, they're opera singers, they don't really need to sing hits from the musicals!  Then they returned  for Libiama, the Brindisi from La Traviata, Anna in a witch's hat and mask, and Rolando with an eyepatch, hook in place of his hand, and a pirate's hat.

And so a thoroughly enjoyable concert with two fabulous wonderful singers, to end a rather splendid two weeks of concert attending.

Afterwards, was a signing session. By the time I had had a cigarette by the Lake,  the queue was massive, crossing all the way from in front of Farringdons to the far stairs, three or four deep and then snaking round. I never join queues that long; either it will eventually subside and you join the tale-end, or else the session is time-limited and you miss out, as you would have done if you had joined the back of the queue.

Instead I hung around the foyer with Faye, Caro, Jill (who had to leave for a long journey) and Stephen, chatting about stuff, and people watching, spotting familiar faces. We joined the tale end of the queue, and got to spend a reasonable amount of time with Our Stars. We noticed that a picture of Rolando on the display stand had been defaced, with an eye gouged out, seemingly wearing an eyepatch. We have our suspicions as to the  culprit, but it would be wrong, quite wrong, to name names. 

A woman a few places in front of us requested a cartoon from Rolando so he obliged, and Anna added to it. We, well,  mainly Faye, were chatting quite a bit to Anna, who seems really lovely, really sweet, no ego, quite quiet. Faye had mentioned that she was a soprano, too, but a not very good one, and Anna told her she mustn't put herself down, she must have faith in herself. Faye asked her if the diamonds were real, so Anna explained that she gets lent them, but if they're big she has to give them back. but she gets to keep the dresses. I got her autograph.

Rolando looked at me and before I had a chance to say anything he asked me what I was going to write on my website...well, I had been so busy enjoying the concert I had not got round to drafting a blog post in my head, so, not   really thinking, I said "One of the best tenors I've seen this week," which made him laugh, and he asked who else I had seen, at which point I had a mental blank, but fortunately Faye helped me out  by saying "Marcelo Alvarez", so that seemed alright...Otherwise, I can't really remember what we talked about but I do recall that it was an enjoyable conversation.

Eyebrows and Trebs preview

Lovebirds are not songbirds

They’ve gone beyond the stage where they’re just opera singers,” says Bill Holland, the managing director of Universal Classics and Jazz. If Holland has his way the pair are destined for a cameo in Coronation Street. “I’d love them to walk into the Rovers after their car breaks down on the way to Manchester and give an impromptu performance. Five million people would see that and buy the album the next day.”

Somehow, I can’t imagine Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu dropping into the Queen Vic for a port and lemon

Oh, puhlease. I've heard that Lasagne and Morticia are connoisseurs of pints of light mild top*. Ange is reputed to be a demon with the darts...

* mild being a form of beer not very popular these days, available in dark and light. 'Top' being a dash of lemonade to subtly alter the taste. Not sure if it's available in the Rovers. Or Queen Vic.

Gipfeltreffen der stars

For those people who don't read comments, Nika has alerted me, and thus you, to a site with a cornucopia of photos of a post-concert party at Berlin's Mexican Embassy last Friday.

It is said that the best place to be at any party is in the kitchen...

Reviews of Three Superstars at Waldbuhne

Domingo, Netrebko und Villazón stürmisch gefeiert

Gipfeltreffen der Stars

The Pearlfishers Duet (for tenor and baritone...) was sung. If anybody happens to have the werewithal, it would be wonderful to see this on YouTube...

Also: Luciano Pavarotti Honored by Fellow Tenor

Placido Domingo's eyes welled with tears as he sang before the World Cup soccer final in Berlin, remembering his Three Tenors colleague Luciano Pavarotti, who was recovering from surgery for pancreatic cancer at a New York hospital.

Friday marked the 16th anniversary of the first concert that Pavarotti, Domingo and Jose Carreras sang together _ before a World Cup final in Rome.

Update: A blog entry from someone in a civilised country... and lj'ed here

Domingo sings sans Pavarotti, Carreras

Classical Brits, Stage Door

Would it be too surprising to read that with two members of SOSSLED on the rampage, there was a post-Crossover Brits session at the Royal Albert Hall Stage Door?

Stage Doors, what fun! Iit can be a right bitchfest hanging round a Stage Door, especially when there's a lot of fans. You take everyone in, soon find out who your allies are, work out who are the pushy ones or the ones who will try and grab a Star's Attention with brown nosing or "It's all about me, me, me, me..." At least we - they - were spared the scarf-knitters and cake-bakers...!

Of course, my main objective was to meet Plácido. Well, strictly speaking my dream was to swoon into his arms, but I'm nothing if not realistic...that was not going to happen! However, I was also looking forward to meeting Rolando, too. And I was interested in anybody else interesting who might appear. Some got away, others were photographed, but I'm falling behind with my photo-editing!

Nicky Spence. He had not come over as being a bad singer but of the four tenors on display he was undoubtedly the least impressive by a long way. Still, he seemed a personable enough chap, despite a dodgy sartorial selection: red-on-black pinstripe kilt suit.

Lesley Garratt teetered out and was roundly ignored. Perhaps one person sought Hayley Westenra's attention. Darcy Bussell got away far too quickly, or else we would most certainly have grabbed her. Karl Jenkins was again pleasant and approachable but was engrossed in conversation in Welsh with a chap playing the role of Long Suffering Husband to the Domingo Groupie next to me*.

John Rutter emerged and looked like a fox caught in the headlights. Although it would have been nice to engage him in conversation, it was clear he was ill at ease and just wanted to get away.

Vittorio Grigolo bounced out. Oh, we like him! We had been warned that he's like an over-excited puppy, and I think that's true! He was very bubbly with the fans, obviously high on adrenaline, and he finished off his Stage Door appearance by standing with his back to the crowd and tossing his bouquet over his head to be caught by a random person in a mad scramble. I think it is fair to say that there is an addition to my List of Tenors!

Then Tony Pappano emerged, accompanied of course by the lovely Mrs Tony. We were all over him, gushing about Gotterdammerung, as one does after a Crossover award ceremony! Of course offering our congratulations for the T&I award!

Then Madam I Am flounced out in That Dress clearly intent on making a grandstanding appearance. She wasn't exactly knocked over in the scrum of enthusiasm, although a few people did extend their programmes in hope of autograph. She was greeted by a sotto voce chorus of "I'm a Barbie Girl in my Barbie World" from the representatives of SOSSLED. To emphasise what a star she was she grandly announced with a flourish and a wiggle, "That's all folks, I'm sorry," although, in fairness, when the woman next to me pointed out that there was a man behind us in a wheelchair who wanted to meet her, she did go over to him. He, BTW, was graciously minding Faye's coat. You see, it's all about team work! This woman next to me, who surely qualifies for SOSSLED membership, muttered something to the effect of "Now get out of the way you talentless young singer, we're waiting for a talented old singer," only more succinctly and eloquently.

She was followed out by an enormous packing case. "Ooh, look Katherine Jenkins' make-up bag!" exclaimed Faye to not inconsiderable chortles from around.

I then got a 'battery low' warning on my camera, and immediately went into panic mode, hurling the contents of my handbag to the ground in an increasingly desperate attempt to locate my spare battery. Finally, I found it, and had just replaced it in camera when Faye said "Here he is...". "Who?" I asked. "Plácido," she said (do you see a pattern emerging here?)

And there he was, and again I went into trembly mode. It was at this point of course that amnesia set in and much as I would like to remember every little detail of the time I spent with Plácido, I was so bowled over by being so close to him and so mesmerised by being in his aura that my memories are not as clear as they should be, and I lack the words to articulate exactly what I was feeling. I will say that of course, he did no grandstanding, no "I'm a big star" but did suggest that we moved away from the Stage Door because other people want to get out.

He was mobbed, there is no doubt about that, and, really, it would have been a bit of reality check to Barbie if she had witnessed it. I spent a lot of time just gazing at him, especially into his eyes. I will say that I am disappointed that he is currently sporting a beard, although I do understand that it's for Cyrano de Bergerac, because I don't like beards; that having been said, I prefer him with a beard to any other man, but I prefer him clean shaven. I summoned up the courage to ask him for a kiss. "Of course," he said. I later told Faye that we had snogged full-on, tongues and all, but whether that is the truth is for her and you to guess, and for him and me to know.

Faye did not witness my kiss with Plácido (at some point I would love to ask him for Un bacio. . .ancora un bacio). She had spotted Rolando Villazón and was adding him to il catalogo. Someone was giving him a good ticking off, saying that it wasn't fair that he and Plácido emerged at the same time, splitting us up. Rolando was being really bubbly; someone asked him how he felt about having sung a duet with Plácido and he was fulsome in his excitement, saying that it was a dream come true and of all the singers he could sing with there was no one he wanted to song with more than Plácido. It may be just my imagination, but when we had seen them beforehand, I thought he was almost as starstruck as we were! That's what I call "Living the Dream..."!

I said "Rolando, can I have a picture of you for my website?" and he suddenly recognised me, and greeted me warmly, and pulled a funny face. I shall not publish that photo but I shall treasure it for ever. He's lovely!

I did have a terrible thought when we were stood outside the Stage Door. There were lots of er, elderly, ladies waiting to stalk Plácido who have probably been fans of his almost as long as I've been alive. I remarked to Faye that in thirty years time we'll be the little old ladies waiting to stalk Rolando when he's coming to the end of his career.

The evening finished with Faye blatantly going over to Plácido, flinging herself at him and almost causing a situation as she tried to follow him into his car, in a desperate bid (from her) for a kiss and (from him) to escape this mad predatory stalker** Faye also asked Plácido for a kiss, and her request was granted.

We hobbled down to the Tube high on emotion at a bloody wonderful evening.

* Special tribute ought to be paid to Long Suffering Husbands/Fiancés/Boyfriends of Domingo Groupies who know they will always be only second in the affections of their Wives/Fiancées/Girlfriends ;-)

** Get your own blog if you want to present your version of history...

Classical Brits, the show

I won't go through the running order in tedious detail, and to some extent I am not sure I really have a great deal to say about the actual musical performances. There's plenty of other reporting already online, and I'm inclined to agree with comments about the poor quality sound system and the rather anaemic sound of the otherwise excellent English Chamber Orchestra. I don't particularly want to hear my favourite opera singers through dodgy amplication, when they are perfectly capable of filling the Albert Hall with a glorious unamplified sound. Just because Barbie and the thankfully absent Bocelli need amplification doesn't mean that real singers do.

The reason for me getting the ticket was to see my lovely Plácido and I shall devote a whole separate entry to him...which might not be this evening, because I have a hot date tonight with the real love of my life*.

However, there were some other highlights. I have adored Kiri te Kanawa's voice for almost as long as I have been crazy about Pláci, and she features in a couple of my favourite DVDs, supporting the tenor, of course. But I have never previously heard her live and I doubt I will again. I can't I say I cared much for the In Paradisium, but when she sang O mio babbino caro, I just loved it. I had hoped, but, to be honest, not expected, to be able to greet her at the Stage Door.

I was not sure to expect of Vittorio Grigolo. I had been very sceptical of this Italian tenor who hit the top of the album charts with a pop album. "The new Bocelli" I had assumed disparagingly. But a look at his CV showed that he has played some serious roles in serious operas in serious opera houses. He sang one song and one aria that I love: Maria, and Una furtiva lagrima. Not the best choice with which to impress me, considering the company he was keeping. I can't get enough of Plácido singing Maria, and whisper it quietly the very best version in my entire collection of tenors singing Una furtiva is Rolando. But you know, even with the odds so stacked against him, he most definitely won my approval. The women either side of me were, like me, present to hear Plácido and were delighted at Rolando's presence as an added bonus. After Vittorio had finished we turned to each other and excitedly agreed "He's the real thing!"

I was well impressed by Alison Balsom on the trumpet, especially in the Rachmaninov Vocalise. I do believe she was the only non-singing soloist, which scuse my cynicism, hardly makes this the full deal in regard to classical music.

I couldn't really disagree with any of the awards given (well, with one exception...). Congratulations to all the winners. It was great seeing various celebrities trooping on. Tom Conti earned a big coo and gasp, certainly in my part of the hall. I hissed when David Mellor was announced - well, it was election day - but I actually cheered him when he expressed his opinion that Tony Pappano is the best thing to happen to Royal Opera House in a long time. In case you hadn't realised I am a great admirer of the lovely Tony.

One of the award presenters was Katherine Kent. I do not believe that most people around me had the slightest idea who she was, but me as an avid Royal Watcher knew she is the former Duchess of Kent. I have to admire her as someone who, post divorce, hasn't gone insisting on retaining her royal-title-by-marriage and I know from my reading of the music press does a great deal of work for charity that doesn't scrape the radar of the mainstream media. So three cheers for Katherine Kent!

I was singularly unimpressed by Katherine Jenkins winning the album of the year for Living a Nightmare. I had voted for Bryn (under orders) although I was secretly hoping Nicola Benedetti would win. If you happen to watch it on the TV and hear a woman screaming when Bryn's nomination was announced, that wasn't me...but I know who it was! Myself and my immediate neighbours were not impressed by her constant prancing and preening in the arena, and the way she made sure she got her make-up touched up by some flunkey, even though it was a complete surprise she had won...yeah, right she would have turned up, in an obscene £375,000 chav dress if she wasn't going to get the limelight. As she concluded her speech, thanking the cat and whatever, I found myself sticking my fingers in my mouth in a vomiting simulation, which isn't habitual with me and yet was entirely involuntary.

Unfortunately, although my box and the one immediately to my right had Pláci fans at the front, behind us were Katherine Jenkins fans who chattered away intermittently, especially during the quiet bits, and horror of horrors, during the introduction to Rolando's aria.

But thankfully, she didn't attempt to sing. That would have been a nightmare too far.

But, Plácido aside, the major highlight of the evening for me was Rolando Villazón. Believe you me, if I hadn't already got a ticket because of Plácido, I would most certainly have done so for him. To hear him sing Recondita Armonia from Tosca was a thrill and a treat; and he looked great against a spectacular backdrop of a hundred candles (the standard candelabra looked dangerously precarious but thankfully didn't fall over). I owuld have loved him to have sung Com'e gentil from Don Pasquale; Faye would have liked Kuda...Kuda (she asked him whether he would be singing it at Faenol; he said probably not).

UK residents, and perhaps also some of Western Europe will be able to see the highlights on ITV1 at 4.45pm tomorrow and repeated a week on Sunday in the late evening. No doubt they'll cut all the bits I have highlighted here and devote half an hour to Barbie's dress...!

Photos - I haven't completed editing my photos yet, so it's definitely work-in-progress...!

* Just in case anybody has any doubts, the most wonderful way of passing the time is going for a meal to a good restaurant with Jimmy, the only man for me.

How the professionals photographed the Red Carpet

Wire Image has various pictures from the Crossover Brits Red Carpet. I can't work out how to permalink to that site but is a fantastic resource for photos, with a functioning search; with free registration you get decent sized, albeit watermarked pictures. It is possible to pay and get non-watermarked ones, but I'm too much of a skinflint.

Classical Brits, the Red Carpet

We realised that our boys, and Warbling Barbie, were about to do the Red Carpet, so we dashed round to the front of the Albert Hall. A phalanx of photographers and not a few camera-wielding fans were lining the route and we didn't really get anything like a good enough view. This was the point where I started stirring trouble. Some woman came over to me and asked "Who's that woman over there?"

Sweet innocent me said "Oh it's that ghastly Warbling Barbie who can't sing, what's her name, Katherine someone or other, Jenkins, isn't it...?" So this woman looked at me with total hatred and said "I know who she is, but the one in the white." "Oh that's Alison Balsom...". This woman had no idea of whom I was talking, so I explained "The trumpeter..."

We realised we were going to see nothing whatsoever of the red carpet parade so it was time to launch Plan B, the Cunning Plan, that involved rushing round to the glass doors on the other side of what counts as a grand vestibule at RAH. I say rushing, by this point we had remembered that the first tightless/sockless day of the summer creates murder for the feet, and let's just say we were not wearing the sensible shoes. And we got really lucky, because as we pressed our noses against the glass, peering in yearningly like the kids not invited to the party, Plácido blew us a kiss. He is just so unbelievably cool! Faye exclaimed "I never realised he was such a flirt..." Oh yes!

We watched a veritable list of celebrities roll up and be photographed. Some of them interested us more than others - for example, it was fab to see Darcy Bussell. I was utterly delighted when the wonderful Tony Pappano arrived and I sussed immediately that Tristan und Isolde had won the Critics Award. I was more pleased than I would ever imagined possible (ie pleased) to see Aled Jones. Vittorio Grigolo - at that point we were reserving judgement on him; Hayley Westenra; some geezer in a pin stripe kilt who we assumed was probably from one of these ghastly boy bands but turned out to be Nicky Spence; Lesley Garratt falling out of her dress; and then Faye exclaimed, "There's Jilly Cooper...!" For a moment I thought she was winding me up but no, it really was Jilly Cooper. As you know I am an unreserved admirer of this very great novelist...!

But the star of the red carpet was undoubtedly Warbling Barbie. Or do I sound like Hello Magazine? She preened and posed and then someone pointed out to her the growing crowd of peasants peering in from the far side, so she flounced over and struck a provocative pose, demonstrating to us how she was not too big a star to condescend to spend some time with us the little people. Just a shame we had already seen a proper star, who'll still be selling out opera houses when her boring voice is shot to shreds, who without ostentation or pose had already made our day. Ah well, she's living the dream...

We were then recruited by a Market Research Company on behalf of the Albert Hall, who will contact us to arrange face-to-face interviews in order to find out our opinions about the show. I am so looking forward to that...! The woman who signed us up was getting all dreamy eyed about Plácido and his Latin charm, so we said he had blown us a kiss, and she was so jealous...

Photos

Interview with Three Superstars

Oper: Der Klassik-Gipfel - stern.de

Because my language skills are negligible (I nearly said negligent) I tend to put long articles through a machine-translator. Google seems to have rendered this into passable English, better than Babelfish usually manages.

Shame that the article happens to be accompanied by some of the worst photos imaginable. The first rule of being a superstar ought to be "Never let a photo be taken from a low angle..." Even I know that one...

Oh, the superstars are Plácido Domingo, Rolando Villazón and Anna Netrebko.

Three Superstars in Berlin

According to this article Variety, German TV company Unitel will be filming the "Three Superstars in Berlin" (Domingo, Netrebko and Villazón) concert. I wonder whether it will be televised or whether fans will have to wait for the DVD (may I pre-order now).

Applause for Rolando

Someone's helpfully posted a clip of Rolando Villazon on Saturday night at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées. Well, mainly of applause, a few seconds of No Puede Ser, then the clip ends. Oh well :-(

Shame he had to cancel tonight's performance in Eugene Onegin at Covent Garden (see, I get my spies texting me from the Amphitheatre bar and the Stage Door).

Note to self: My camera also shoots poor quality video.

After the show

On Wednesday night I sent a text:

I just spoke to Rolando. I'd tried taking a photo a few minutes earlier but someone had moved into the frame so I asked if I could take another and he said "for your website?" OMG!!!

After Eugene Onegin, I went past the Stage Door and realised that there was a fair crowd but not too many, so I paused to think, and  I ended up going in.

Of the names, Amanda Roocroft was first out. She made straight for Smelly Psycho Stalker:  I was wondering whether she wanted to get him over with; she had her back to me and accidentally hit my arm and was profuse with apologies, even calling me "Madame". She looked ever so relieved when I did a "Don't worry, no need to apologise" face and gesture, and also that I was "normal". Either she was in a hurry or she is a bit of a whirlwind. But she seemed pleasant enough.

Eric Halfvarson was next. He seemed very nice, although reserved. The woman I was standing with told him that when he had played Claggart in Vienna she had gone to meet him but she had slipped and broken her arm and he was "I hope it wasn't my fault, I hope I didn't frighten you." She assured him it was just one of those things. I said I really liked the aria and thanked him. He thanked me for coming.

Next was Dmitri - more about him later. I did not get a photo, which is a shame because he is spectacularly photogenic.

Finally Rolando appeared and really did not seem in any hurry. He spent ages with the people near the automatic door, which was great because as he moved away from them they departed. I did try taking a photo but I sensed someone move into the frame.  So, as he was walking backwards towards the street door I asked if I had could have another attempt, which was when he said "For your website?" I did a double take step back, a bit embarrassed, and then we hugged. I took one:

He suggested that I took one of his t-shirt. I had a sneaking suspicion that it said something rude, and he explained to the woman next to me  (who I calculated was seventy plus although looking younger) that it was very rude, but to me he was saying it's okay if said among friends. So I'm going to publish the photo, even though I'm not really sure...

I asked him what he's doing next season, and he said "Nothing" so I went "Oh no!" in dismay (genuine spontaneous reaction) but he said the following season he will be doing The Elixir of Love and Don Carlo. I said "Brilliant" and that I absolutely loved the aria from Elisir on his first album (but its name slipped my mind - Una furtiva lagrima...duh!). I said "But I love the Donizetti on the latest album" which I've just realised makes no sense because L'elisir is also Donizetti. Stupid stupid stupid!

Someone asked him about his Russian and he said he spent two hour with the Russian language coach today and he's got more tomorrow and he did a slitting motion across his throat. But he's asked Gergiev if he can sing Lensky at the Marinsky...

Back to Dimitri: He was chatting a while to a very small number of people, then he came out of the door with the wall button, and Smelly Psycho Stalker addressed him in Russian and they were talking in Russian. Then he dashed away not pausing for the other six or eight people either side of the automatic door. I thought he glared at me but at the time I assumed it was a non-specific glare, but later I also wondered whether he has seen the SOSSLED Day Out post, and I feel kind of bad about that.

First of all, Faye is a massive fan of Dima, whereas I have slightly different feelings. I think he is a superb singer and excellent musician, and I have never come away disappointed in his singing. Conversely, the overall performance of his I enjoyed the most was the concert at the Barbican, when I felt he really reached out to the audience. I would certainly never avoid a production because of him and I am pretty damn sure that he would always be a 'pull factor'. But my natural reaction when with someone who really likes is to adopt cynicism, plus I'm never going to elbow Faye out of the way to get to Dima.

Furthermore, I firmly believe that once the final curtain has gone down, singers - or any other performer - owe nothing to the audience. The fact that some stop and talk to fans, and appear to enjoy it, maybe because they're on an adrenaline high post-performance, or because they believe that it is helpful PR, or because they're naturally gregarious. But there is nothing wrong with singers who choose not to linger or are brief and business-like. Furthermore, I understand Dima is a fellow-smoker and I would not be surprised if he just wanted to get somewhere and light up where he wouldn't get some nagging bat saying "You're a singer, you shouldn't smoke."

I also hope that the "Haughty Russkie" isn't seen as offensive. Again we are somewhat disrespectful about the names we give our favourite singers. No offence intended.

But I feel really bad that he might have read my post and been offended. That was never my intention and if it came across that way I can only apologise. Of course, how conceited does this read - as if world-famous baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky is likely to read my blog. But world-famous tenor Rolando Villazón has, so who knows. And it certainly isn't anything to do with Faye, who really really likes Dmitri and is looking forward to seeing him soon.

Maybe we should have some cards made to hand to singers. On one side "You have been SOSSLED" and on the other "We are a group of respectable sensible women with considerable status in our respective professions. We just happen to like singers. We refer to stalking, but that stops outside the curtilage of opera house/concert hall. We are non-threatening, and don't have a criminal record between us, although Faye does have some Andrea Bocelli, which I suppose counts..."

Eugene Onegin links

The Guardian

the production places as much emphasis on Onegin's unravelling friendship with Lensky as it does on his conflicted feelings for Tatyana. This may be because the performances are exceptionally strong. Onegin is played by Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Lensky by Rolando Villazon. Hvorostovsky, a supercilious smirk on his face, is very much the caddish practical joker, toying with people's emotions until his games swirl out of control. Villazon is fragile and troubled, naively trusting in his fellow human beings, only to be destroyed by his eventual understanding of their inherent cruelty.

Roocroft isn't quite in their league. There are plenty of insights, above all in the final scenes where she confronts Onegin with bitter anger as well as regret, though her voice has now has a mature quality that doesn't make her depiction of the younger Tatyana entirely credible. Conductor Philippe Jordan, meanwhile, coaxes sounds of subtle sadness from the pit. Musically much of it is very beautiful but, as a totality, it fails to cohere.

The Independent didn't like it:

I cannot remember when this opera was last quite so dominated by a Lensky and Olga. Nino Surguladze's engaging Olga is established early on as a tomboy with irresistible feminine charms. The contralto colour of the voice is beguiling, but as ever it's the belief that sweeps you along on her every word and gesture. The same is true of Rolando Villazon's Lensky; the ardour, the intensity, of the delivery is thrilling. His calling for Olga in the final minutes of his life was the highlight of the evening.

Financial Times

Even if you don’t “get it” – and some of the allusions are just a little too oblique – you come away buoyed by the sheer wealth of subtext they find beneath the familiar surface... this is far more than a “concept” production. (Pimlott's) greatest achievement is to draw performances of such conviction and detail from his cast. There can be few more practised Onegins than Dmitri Hvorostovsky, but here he remakes the character afresh. Partly it’s the appearance: smiling in a brown wig for his early scenes with Tatyana, the Siberian baritone is almost unrecognisable, but he is all too real as the “superfluous man” who smiles politely before behaving badly. His performance shows just how far he has developed as an actor, while radiating the polished beauty of Tchaikovsky’s vocal lines. Rolando Villazón, in his debut as Lensky, makes the perfect counterpart, finding a thrilling ardour and open- hearted temperament in the role...Amanda Roocroft..rewards us with a Tatyana who may be a shade mature for the country girl of the first two acts, and not exactly touching in the letter scene – the production leaves her stranded in too much space – but she comes into her own in the finale.

The Times

After an Act I as lively as washed-up seaweed, the Royal Opera’s new staging of Onegin mustered a few late flickers of drama. But oh dear, what a sedate first hour! In the title-role Dmitri Hvorostovsky sang with customary suavity . . . and acted with customary impassivity. A broom might have been livelier. Amanda Roocroft (Tatiana) couldn’t be faulted for effort. But she never hit the consistent vocal form of her mesmerising Tatiana two seasons ago. And Steven Pimlott’s production took ages to ignite. True, Tchaikovsky wanted his Pushkin opera to be staged with rustic simplicity. But not inertness

What galvanised proceedings were three outstanding supporting performances. As Lensky, the much-vaunted young Mexican Rolando Villazón took a while to get his exciting tenor flowing, but he was compelling in his pre-duel soliloquy. Pity he lost the duel.

I was also impressed by the Georgian mezzo Nino Surguladze (Olga): sumptuous tone, and her face was the liveliest thing on stage. And the veteran bass Eric Halfvarson stole the show with Gremin’s touching hymn to late-flowering love.

The Stage

Sunday Times - that was me in Row M...

Music OMH

The saving grace of the evening is the musical performance which, although not first rate, was never less than competent and managed occasionally to be outstanding. The latter category certainly describes the riveting singing and acting of the young Mexican tenor Rolando Villazón as Lensky. Consistently excellent from his first entrance, Villazón was captivating as the impetuous young lover... his aria just before his death could scarce have carried more poignancy.

You know, I feel sorry for the professional critics. They get free seats in the best part of the house on opening night, and do not feel that their evening is worth it unless they can carp and criticise like a load of misery guts. I think they actually collude. Whereas us bloggers, who have to work for a living to afford our tickets in less favourable parts of the house, not always on First Night. Well, we get to enjoy ourselves. Ya boo sucks.

Eugene Onegin

This enticed me to the Royal Opera House on Wednesday evening. I have previously written at some length about the production in the Dress Rehearsal. It was the first time I had attended a Dress and was cautious about pronouncing on the musical performance. In the light of Wednesday's performance I am glad that I didn't, and the reservations I carried after the Dress are now irrelevant.

I also have to say that my review is being written in the context of attending a dire "Sir John in Love" at the Coliseum last night. If the order of performances had been reversed, I would probably have enjoyed Sir John more than I did and got even more enjoyment from Eugene Onegin. Ah well, such is life.

The story is taken from Pushkin's novel in verse and is a fairly straightforward story. Two sisters, Tatiana and Olga. Olga is engaged to Lensky. He brings his friend Onegin to visit and Tatiana falls for him. She writes a letter telling of her love. He spurns her, saying he's not the marrying type and their love can only be that of brother and sister (this is where it is interpreted as being semi-autobiographical for Tchaikovsky and the seed of the gay subtext).

At a ball Onegin dances with Olga; Lensky challenges him to a duel, which takes place and Onegin shoots Lensky. A few years later after travelling abroad, Onegin returns to a chance encounter with Tatiana now married to his distant cousin, and he realises the strength of his feelings. But too late.

All over I thought that it was a splendid performance. For the most part my attention did not wander, except when grabbed, for example by the ghastly cow sat next to me who thought it would enhance my enjoyment if she tunelessly hummed along. This was when she wasn't condemning the friezes as dreadful. I wanted to know why they were dreadful. Eg in the case of the naked man frieze, was it the nakedness that upset her, or the lack of naughty bits. Or was it because it  - purposely - obscured the action on stage. Everybody's entitled to an opinion but it would help, when inflicting them on me, to expand on the justification. Otherwise, it just sounds like the kneejerk reaction of a posh strangulated cow.

I am not intimate with the opera so I was in no position to find tiny flaws at which to nitpick, as I inevitably do with a more familiar work. Not necessarily to the aid of enjoyment! It's Tchaikovsky, beautiful tunes and lovely orchestration. I thought the orchestra played well without necessarily being on fire. The first night reviews suggested that the conducting was restrained and to a large extent I agree. I had hopes of a more lush richer sound, such as I experienced at ENO last year or in the DVD I have in my possession.

Some people have commented on the Russian diction - Dmitri Hvorostovsky was the only native speaker in the cast - but I can't comment because Russian is entirely foreign to me. And it's not just about pronunciation - there are styles of musical phrasing, and, as a friend pointed out dramatic gestures. But I don't have that understanding.

I thought all the principals were splendid in different ways. I find Dimitri Hvorostovsky an enigma. I have never found his voice to be less than technically superb and very beautiful, although inexplicably he does not hit my 'B-spot'. He is undoubtedly one of the most gifted and thoughtful artists I have seen. Yet, having seen him in the past year in Rigoletto, Ballo and now this, I feel that his acting and projection was most compelling in his Barbican concert. Arguably, Onegin is a cold person until Act 3, but even so, I have to file Dima under "Superb singer, indifferent actor."

I was a lot more impressed by Amanda Roocroft (a fine Lancastrian singer) than I expected. I can't say I care for her voice. I have a love-hate attitude to sopranos. Any hint of squall or wobble become magnified in my mind, whereas I tend to be more forgiving to other voice-types. Certainly she has the chops musically and acted convincingly. But I did find the letter scene to be the only bit where time dragged. It must be fiendishly difficult, basically a monologue, not really an aria, with the stage to herself for a protracted length of time. And it was not the most successful of stagings. Obviously there is little that can really be done to add drama to a teenager pining in her bedroom, unless it was an updated production with teenager drafting her letter on MySpace, but I do not think it was helped that the bedroom was the obligatory ROH box which served to muffle her voice on occasion. Perhaps a bit of OTT diva-ish furniture chewing might have worked...! But she was splendid in the Final Act duet with Onegin, and overall was entirely convincing in the role.

Nina Surguladze as Olga sang with a beautiful voice. I was not especially struck by the character, but she was perfectly fine.

Some of the lesser roles were excellent. None of the comprimario roles were poor and some were excellent. Ryland Davies acted the role of M. Triquet excellently, although his voice ws somewhat strained. But perhpas that was the point. Robert Gleadow, in yet another small role as Zaretsky (Lensky's second in the duel) demonstrated once again that he really is one to watch. He's one of the ROH Young Artists and although only currently playing small roles - in Barbiere, Macbeth and now this -  I believe he has a fine voice and that certain je ne sais quoi of reaching beyond the footlights.

Eric Halfvarson was superb as Prince Gremin. He only features in the first part of the last act, and has one aria, but for a small part it has to be well cast. I saw him five times last July as Sparafucile and Hunding; in both Rigoletto and Die Walkure he absolutely delivered the goods, and he did so again tonight, and then some. I have said before that I do have a slight aural problem with basses, finding it almost impossible to hear beauty in their range. But this was something special and was enthusiastically appreciated by the house.

Oh, and Lensky. Yeah, not bad! Regular readers - and occasional readers (Hola Rolando!) - will know that I adore Rolando Villazón. Adoration brings high expectations, and, following the Dress I had my anxieties. These were not entirely dispelled in the first act, but I have to say that I am nit-picking (to me, he sounded a little bit nasally).  In Act II Scene 1 he was superb, and he just got better in Scene 2. "Kuda, kuda", aka Lensky's aria, is an amazing aria. The rest of the role of Lensky is very much as support to Onegin and Tatiana, certainly dramatically, but that aria means that the part has to be cast with a first-rate singer. It has a long orchestral introduction. What was extraordinary was that the orchestra was accompanied by the sound of the majority of an audience of over 2,000 clearing their throats. Not because "This is a quiet bit, doesn't matter if I interrupt" but in expectation. When he began singing, I heard a pin drop. Beautiful. Vocally, musically and in depicting the anguish that Lensky was feeling. When he finished, the audience hovered in awestruck animation for a moment which the old bag sitting next to me broke with premature applause.

Overall, it's a beautiful opera. As well as the two arias, for Lensky and Gremin, the highlights musically were the ball scene in Act II and the skating party in Act III, which perhaps serve to remind that although Tchaikovsky is regarded - in Western Europe, at any rate - as a second tier opera composer no one in the history of music can come near him in writing dance music. I suppose I would have wanted a bit more light and oomph from the orchestra: I think in these scenes they were decidedly second best to ENO last year.

Prior informed by the Dress I was prepared to give it a solid B, but after the performance I would go for an A- or Four Stars. Costumes get A++, thanks presumably to Antony McDonald.

Sorry the photos are so grainy - I was sitting in Row M of the Amphitheatre. My camera is good, but not that good!

SOSSLED Day out

We only actually went to the Dress Rehearsal as an excuse on which to hang some singer-stalking*. We had noticed nearly a month ago the sign in the window at the ROH Shop declaring that the lovely Rolando Villazón would be signing after the Dress Rehearsal. So, despite not having tickets, we queued at the Box Office and we got lucky. Well, if you call Row W of the Amphitheatre lucky. But I'm not complaining, not at £4.

At half nine we found ourselves with nothing to do but wait an hour-and-a-half for curtain up. The Stage Door beckoned. We established that neither of Messrs Hvorostovsky and Villazón had arrived, so we waited, joined only by one other fan. We did not have to wait very long until Rolando arrived. As he crossed Floral Street, I swear I did not recognise him. I've seen him in Contes d'Hoffmann and Rigoletto, and have seen numerous photos of him but he looks really quite different in the flesh. He was a real sweetie as he signed his autograph for the other woman - she had a broadsheet copy of the poster for Daz Konzert des Jahres!.

Then we asked him to pose for photos and we had a chat, nothing heavy, just good luck, that sort of thing. Me being total fan grrrl simpering "It's lovely to meet you..."

He came back a moment or two later explaining that he had forgotten his tequila. For a moment I believed him, for, though I am trained and paid to be sceptical, I become very gullible when starstruck. He picked up a water bottle he had left on a ledge.

I suggested it was time for breakfast but Faye insisted on waiting for Dima. He was not overly gushing, but I also appreciate that many singers do not like being bothered on the way in before a performance, and many theatre people don't do mornings, so we were taking a bit of a liberty hanging around. Nevertheless, he signed Faye's score and was gracious enough to pause for photos.

After the Dress Rehearsal we joined the queue outside the ROH shop and got to meet Rolando all over again. I forgot to take any photos, but Faye did. He signed her score, and I was kicking myself for not bringing along any one of the CDs I have of his. So I told him that I have all his CDs - which I've just realised isn't strictly true,  although I have all three recital CDs plus Tristan und Isolde where he is luxury-cast as the sailor - but they're on my mp3 player.  I also said that I have seen him in everything he's done at ROH, except La Boheme, where I did try to get tickets. He pointed out that he hadn't been scheduled to sing in La Boheme.  I might just as well have said "Rolando, I'm a fan grrl"..! I asked him to sign my Dress Rehearsal ticket and he asked me to whom he should sign it. He is so nice...!

Faye took pictures.

Afterwards, we ended up walking all round the Royal Opera house, trying to decide where to go for a drink. As we  walked past the front, I spotted the poster of Rolando outside, the same one that has been used as an advert on the Tube but doesn't appear to be anywhere on the internet. I was about to start drooling over it when Faye spotted Dmitri coming out of one of the exits from the ROH (not the Stage Door). She reckons he spotted us before we spotted him and probably thinks we're lunatic stalkers.

I realised that he was strolling down the street so I suggested we followed him. Faye insisted that this would be discretely and at a distance - I wouldn't have had it any other way. For some silly reason, the idea of surreptitiously following an aloof Russian through the streets of London had a crazy appeal. We saw that he had gone into Cafe Rouge, and I suggested that we did, too, although frankly, it's a bit 'low rent' ;-). Faye absolutely refused and I have to reassure you that if by any chance she had agreed my immediate reaction would have been absolutely not. Although as Carla pointed out, there would have been a certain believability about us 'coincidentally' ending up in Cafe Rouge, whereas a proper restaurant would have definitely have looked like stalking.However, we agreed that it would be against all of our principles, and dignity, to do so.

Perhaps we should get little cards printed up to hand to our singers saying "You have been Sossled" so that they know we're not mad deranged stalking types.

* I'm joking, you understand...

Eugene Onegin (Dress Rehearsal)

Not bad for £4!

by Pyotr Il'yich Tchaikovsky, at the Royal Opera House. Cast etc in the Extended Entry. Synopsis

Convention states that one does not comment, critically or complimentarily, on the performance of a Dress Rehearsal, because it's a working rehearsal and,f or example, singers may not sing out.

A new production, with new sets, new costumes and new wigs.

Ah yes, wig. Dmitri Hvorostovsky wore a black wig in the first two acts, a bit of a shock when one is expecting to see that distinctive silver mane. But it had come off by Act 3, to signify his aging.

Costumes. The leading men's' costumes were wonderful. Most noticeable was that the trousers - sort of lycra breeches, Mr Darcy-style, were tight. Very tight. But no tighter than they had to be. Both our leading chaps have fine figures and looked delightful in these figure-hugging trousers. We would advise them to go easy on pies, chocolate and beer for the duration of the run. We considered many fine singers who would not look good in such tight trousers. In the first Act Rolando's were beige; in Act 2 for the ball and the duet he changed into light blue velour breeches. Very fetching.

I know I am supposed to notice the Ladies' dresses a bit more than I do. Amanda Roocroft's outfits after she married Prince Gremin were splendid. I was torn between between the stylish black coat with double-breasted jewelled buttons and snazzy red fur hat and trims she wore when she first re-encountered Onegin, or the rather splendid gold over scarlet dress in the Final Scene, which would match my jewellery.

I would be tempted to say that red was a dominant colour, because in Act 1, all the peasants were wearing red and white. However, the area surrounding Tatiana's bedroom were green and blue. My companion mentioned Dulux for the first scene; the letter scene in the bedroom was exactly to me like a promotional colour chart one would pick up from B&Q. The ball scene was very very colourful indeed. The duel scene was, in effect, monochrome, set on a frozen river (we'll return to the river), and the next 'ball scene' - which was enacted as a skating party - was also monochrome with costumes in bold colours. The colours of the final scene matched the old gold of Tatiana's dress.

There were gimmicks galore. Possibly no new production at the Royal Opera House can happen without The Box. The misshapen box, set an angle, which acts as an (almost) self-contained stage within a stage. In this it served both as Tatiana's bedroom at her childhood home and her library at Prince Gremin's townhouse.

Another gimmick was the frieze. The opera opened with an additional curtain portraying an enormous picture of a naked man in foetus position (so no naughty bits...). at least, I think it was a man. Very androgynous. Possibly a buff man with incongruous man-boobs. This later changed into a similar size homoerotic picture that must have been inspired by a Crucifixion of Christ painting.

The most important gimmick however was the river. Do not underestimate the importance of the river. I most certainly did at first. Act I scene 1 began with the girls sitting on a marble altar in the river; for some reason it reminded me of the Dead Diana shrine at Althorp. The frieze of the buff-man-with-man-boobs was lowered and behind I could see scenery. I saw planks of wood and assumed them to be the 19th Century Russian equivalent of sunloungers. The three dimensions of the rural scenery worked well, with hills rolling away and in the distance a building. The frieze rose to reveal the sunloungers to be plank bridges across a river. One of the extras picked up the building and carried it away , ruining the illusion of perspective.

After Tatiana had spent the night writing a letter to Onegin, some hefty chaps came on stage to wheel away her bedroom aka The Box, and the ground on which it stood was flooded with water and suddenly became a river again. I did not see the point of the wooden plank bridges because everyone waded across the water regardless. Except for Onegin, who, being a Haughty-Russkie used the bridge. And Tatiana who splashed maniacally in it. Note for the Weak-Bladdered. You will need a wee stop before this begins. There is a lot of water.

In the interval we speculated as to how the duel would be staged. We concluded that we wouldn't mind a bit of Operatic Mud Wrestling in the river, perhaps with some gentlemanly white shirts getting wet. In the event, the river was frozen. Lensky pointed the gun at his own head before attempting to shoot Onegin, but Onegin had shot him first. For Lensky it was heart-wrenching (and he died). Onegin was as emotionally involved as someone might be when knocking icicles off a garden gate.

We monitored the opera for key operatic moments.

No furniture was abused. Plenty was left in strategic places, looking as if it might be ripe for abusing but it all remained firmly upright. Rolando teased and tantalised my furniture-abuse-fetishist friend by appearing to threaten the furniture on more than one occasion in the aftermath of the ball, but in the end he merely knocked over a pile of books - perhaps a more intellectual form of furniture abuse.

There was no chest hair on display although Onegin did turn up at the Gremin's skating party with the top three buttons of his shirt undone. Perhaps that's a uniquely Russian way of dressing for the cold. But I understand that Dima doesn't do chest hair.

Wonderfully, we had some extremely good tenorial falling to the ground. In despair, at the end of the Ball scene, in preparation for the musical highlight of the entire opera, Lenski's Aria, Kuda, Kuda. And his tumble to the ground on being shot was a tenorial death par excellence. The Pupil has learnt well from the Master.

I'm going to the performance a week tomorrow, after which I shall discuss issues like orchestra, and singing, and the stupidity of male 'honour'.

Update: Hairy McMungo was also there