I sent a txt to my sister saying, "Oh my god! And to think that some women never have an orgasm!"
At least, I hoped I sent it to my sister. At the time I was floating down the banks of the Liffy high on elation and post-orgasmic bliss.
It's actually a direct quote from my friend Helen-in-Glasgow after we had seen Jason Donovan in Joseph. At the time, and afterwards, I have regarded it as superbly crafted hyperbole from the supreme phraseologist. After all, all that Cosmo advice on the Big O never mentioned being in the audience for a musical performance.
Note to editor of Cosmo
Last night, I used the phrase on the woman next-but-one to me, and she assumed I was joking. Although she did say "If that won't make it happen, nothing will..." 'That' being, as far as I'm concerned, very specifically, Plácido Domingo singing 'Un baccio' from Gia nella notte densa from Otello. Mind you, there had been plenty of foreplay...
I've been twittering on for a while about this concert. To understand why I have never seen him live would need a very long and boring explanation of my entire adult life before blogging.
So you can only imagine the mixture of very deep excitement mixed with increasingly highly-strung nervousness I have been experiencing. I did say to some people, "I'm nervous that I might not enjoy it..." They thought I was joking; I wasn't. It's one thing seeing/hearing someone on TV, video, CD etc and another seeing someone live. Especially someone who, at 64, is past his prime and beginning to show his age. And many years ago I learnt that the more you build yourself up, the harder is it for your high expectations to be met. Anticipating something with neutral caution can lead to unexpected pleasures.
In summary, high expectations met, exceeded and then some...
As I predicted, although the concert was billed to start at 7.45 it didn't start until after 8. Security was quite overt (although no bag searches) - Mary McAleese was supposed to be in attendance, but apparently she cancelled at the last minute, due to illness.
As the programme billed it "Plácido Domingo in Concert. With Ana Maria Martinez and the RTÉ Concert Orchestra conducted by Eugene Kohn"
The concert started with an indifferent almost insipid Rákóczy March (Berlioz), but I wasn't really paying attention. I was mentally focusing on the fact that within minutes I would see .... him...
And then he walked on. My initial reaction surprised me in being so low key. His first aria was Tout est bien fini...O souverain, which by delightful serendipity, was the last piece I heard on CD before leaving my hotel, and was, thus, my earworm as I trogged down the Quays. So beautiful! Well, except for a couple of flubs from the brass.
I just sat back, opened my ears, my eyes, my pores and drank it all in, just revelling in being in such close proximity to my hero. Physically, he's gorgeous. He's beginning to show the signs of ageing, especially on his hands, but he bounds round the stage with the energy and litheness of a man half his age. And I had never realised what a physically imposing presence he is. Much taller in real life than on TV, muscular, broad conductor's shoulders. And just oozing red-blooded macho sexuality. This was particularly noticeable in the duets, and most especially in Tonight, when I found his sheer physicality overwhelming.
Even though he's the greatest singer ever, and a very good actor, and very very very physically attractive, this is all wrapped up in bundles of personality and charisma, and he is a natural performer, seeming to get injections of adrenaline from the audience.
Caroline at work was winding me up saying she thought I was going to see McFly and my sister was insisting I was off to see Ronan Keating, but all I will say to them is 'what on earth would I want with some insipid zygotic boyband?'...
His second aria was Winterstürme. In general, when you go to a populist aria concert, designed to appeal to a wide audience, you don't really expect to hear Wagner - you don't tend to get Wagner on aria albums, and he didn't really write 'numbers' like Mozart, Verdi, Puccini etc. It takes chutzpah, or sheer superstardom, to do it. What a man! By chance, I was among a random group of women who are both Plácido groupies and Wagnerians, so we were applauding fairly enthusiastically. I think he noticed...!
Back in my hotel room I had been listening to Cilea's Lamento di Federico, and reflecting, not only on how much I like this aria regardless of who (good) is singing it, but also how much I particularly like Plácido singing it, so I was delighted to see it on the programme. And I was not disappointed!
The first half finished with Gia nelle notte densa, in my opinion, Verdi's greatest love duet, and one of the 3 greatest. As a side point I have to say this was Ana Maria's weakest moment. She has a lovely voice, and I'd pay good money to see her again, but not as Desdemona...Still she was good enough to be there supporting Otello. And that's where this post started... I have to accept that I will never see/hear Plácido perform Otello live. What a cause of regret, especially having heard him sing this and having had such a visceral physical reaction.
It was a well constructed programme, with the first half being the serious opera stuff, and the second half being operetta, musicals, and zarzuela, and the encores being fun, audience participation...
The encores included a waltz from a Viennese operetta that I know very well, and know is on the CD that I inadvertently left in my desk on Tuesday evening - he got us all singing along. He sang a Spanish song, that I know vaguely, but can't remember what it's called. I think it was before this that he went off to the side of the stage and someone called him to come back, so he signalled to this person he was going to get some water, in a way that was really engaging with this person.
Ana Maria did an encore, and he came back on the stage to applaud her, then he went off again. I wailed - quite quietly, I hasten to add - 'come back, oh please come back, Plácido'. Then the orchestra began to play and I thought, oh the orchestra are doing an encore. I recognised the tune, and thought 'this isn't an orchestra piece', and thought some more 'this definitely isn't an orchestral piece'. Then the conductor looked round, expecting to see a singer on stage, but there was none, so the conductor stopped the orchestra and summoned Plácido from the wings. He sauntered on and addressed the audience, claiming that he didn't know the song, did we know what it was called. So we called out "Granada" and he pretended he was glad we had reminded him, and he sang it, although not without interrupting himself with laughing, and then he had a wander round the orchestra, encouraging various different sections in their bits, like he was a conductor...(!)
In recognition that they were in Ireland, they sang another song - he apologised beforehand that he realised that the audience would know it much better than the singers - She Moved Through The Fair. I can only say that they probably spent just five minutes rehearsing it...But it was good fun!
During the Luisa Fernando duet I thought I would take a photo of him whilst Ana Maria was singing. Now I know what you'll think when you read this, but:
- I am not a delusional fantastist. I am rationale and logical, and paid and trained to be sceptical
- I know there was an audience of about 5000, but I was in the sixth row which is pretty near the front
- I know that when people in general are on stage in front of a massive audience they tend to focus on individuals in the audience
- I know that Plácido has the ability to make every member of the audience believe he is singing just to them
- I was wielding a camera that cannot be described as subtle or discrete, next-but-one to someone else wielding an unsubtle indiscreet camera
I was just about to press the button when I realised he was looking at me, half flirting/teasing, half playing to the camera. For a infinitisemal split second my thought was 'Don't flirt with me, mate...' then 'Oh. my. god!' and I went all flustered and girly and drooling.
I'm back home now, and Jimmy is predicting that I might come down one day; my sister txted me 'hope u have calmed down'
Maybe I would be a bit down, a bit 'nothing good's ever going to happen again', except for the fact that I can see the folder that holds, amongst other tickets, the ones I have for Die Walküre in July. And I had literally been in the house five minutes when some post came through the door, I think by the hand of a neighbour, judging by the half-opened state of one of the envelopes (a newsletter I keep receiving as a result of sponsoring someone in a blogathon). But also in the post was an envelope from Germany - two tickets to see Plácido at the Waldbuhne in Berlin in August. As the woman next-but-one said, he's going to retire in 2008, so we might as well spend all our money on seeing him between now and then.
This is a heavily censored version of what sits on my PC - passworded, BTW, so, sister of mine, don't even think...
The Programme:
Rákóczy March - Berlioz
Tout est bien fini...O, souverain - Le cid - Massanet Plácido
Je veux vivre - Romeo et Juliette - Gounod Ana Maria
Winterstürme - Die Walküre - Wagner Plácido
Una voce poco fa - Il barbiere di Siviglia - Rossini Ana Maria
Lamento di Federico - L'Arlesiana - Cilea Plácido
Overture - Les Vêpres Siciliennes - Verdi
Già nella notte densa - Otello - Verdi duet
~Interval~
Dein ist mein ganzes Herz - Das Land des Lächelns - Lehár Plácido
Vilja - Die lustige Witwe - Lehár Ana Maria
Overture - Candide - Bernstein
Tonight - West Side Story - Bernstein duet
El niñjo judio - D'España vengo - Luna Ana Maria (definitely my favourite from Ana Maria)
En mi tierra extremeñ - Luisa Fernanda - M Toroba duet
Carceleras - Las hijas del zebedo - Chapi Ana Maria
No puede ser - La taberna del puerto - Sorozábal Plácido
