Gertsamtkunstwerk

Reality TV

That's the bit where everyone stands around watching on BBC News 24, something that is happening in the next street Top of London building collapses.

Traffic is being diverted and the blogger in me thinks - is there scope for blogging this. To which I rapidly answer, no. I did watch a red Virgin logoed helichopper descend into the street - air ambulance? - but helichoppers are hardly rare round these parts. One colleague says "Does it affect my train? If it doesn't affect my train I don't want to know, it's all me me me."

The need to be contributing UGC (User Generated Content) probably hampers any search and rescue operation; far better photos will be taken by professional photographers with proper kit and Press credentials than by some passing commuter with a mobile phone. I hope there are no serious casualties.

I'm afraid I didn't even hear an explosion. I was on the phone to a friend at the time.

I shall be avoiding the site by catching a bus, exactly as planned, along the river. Not literally along the river, of course, they don't accept Oysters on Ducks.

More here - Man trapped after building collapses

Death in Venice

I went to this ages ago - the end of May - and I don't understand why I haven't blogged it,because I really enjoyed it. In fact,it's pretty safe to say that everything I have seen at ENO in 2007 has been really really worthwhile, which is a helluva lot better than can be said for ROH, out of which I have walked twice this year. Oh well, win some lose some.

Perhaps the reason I didn't blog Death in Venice is because of my woeful ignorance. Of course I know the story, who doesn't? Not that I have read Thomas Mann, but I seen the film - the Visconti film, starring the incomparable Dirk Bogarde. Sadly, transmitted by the BBC at the wrong screen size, leading to a dreadful distortion of the haunting Mahler.

But about Benjamin Britten's opera I knew zilch. And I'm not going to even pretend to make an intelligent comment about it. I loved it. I thought there were committed performers in an absorbing opera with a brilliant production. There are lots of reviews all over the interwebthing, from people who know what they're talking about. So what I can I say - and, like eleven days later, how precise can I get?

Ian Bostridge was...interesting. I want to like him, and I do like him, but I can never feel passionately about him. His performance was musical and tortured, very convincing acting. A lot of people say he is, and appears, too young to play Aschenbach, and he certainly comes over much younger than Bogarde's portrayal. But I was happy to overlook that.

I suppose the style isn't everyone taste - it's not actually that popular even with people who are fond of Britten. It's not exactly a stop and sing pretty arias for the show-off-of-voice, which deters people. But you know, I liked it! Peter Coleman Wright was also excellent in the various baritone roles, and, surprisingly, I really liked the seagull counter-tenor Iestyn Davies who sang the Voice of Apollo, a role specifically written for counter-tenor. I wrote somewhere else - and now I forget where - that it was interesting that he soared above the light orchestra, which c-ts don't do in parts written for castrati /soapbox.

If I had to single out one reason why I like Britten it's the percussion. Despite the commendable singing performances and the stunning set, time and again it was the percussion that thrilled me. I keep saying I need to get more into Britten, but time and stuff conspire against me. However, I know that I have the rest of my life; like Handel, his operas are going to be performed more and more. So I shall learn by osmosis rather than study.

Some blogger somewhere - can't remember where, do please claim credit if it were you - singled out the lighting, and I can't argue. So atmospheric, of the Lido/beach, the hotel, and so on. I thought the sets were gorgeous, and I like the way the floor alternatively represented the canals of Venice and the highly polished floor of the hotel. I liked that the sets represented a concept of Venice rather than spelling.it.out.in.big.letters.with.perfect.reproductions.of.St.Marks.and.various. palazzos. And most of all I liked the movements, the way the characters interacted, and the choreography of the boys, who were beautiful to watch.

There's plenty to provoke the thoughts, in Britten's novel and in Visconti's film, and it's potentially a delicate and controversial subject. To put it crudely, Aschenbach is lusting after an adolescent, which makes it sound all murky. More correctly, he is looking at this beautiful child-man and appreciating the beauty, is falling in love, and yet, all the time, the beauty and vivacity, and innocence, of the child is a stark reminder of his own 'old age' (in his fifties...), ugliness, and impotence (as a writer, and, I suppose, sexually). Obviously not one for the Daily Mail/Classic FM Brigade, and it makes me feel uncomfortable - am I naive in thinking it's just some old man's fantasies, or is there something more sinister going on. I want to believe that the main theme is the contrast between youthful beauty and ageing deterioration, and not that it's a pederast's charter (although, let's be honest, no one would raise an eyebrow if the object of his desire was a girl of the same age - fair game in the public subconscious...)

It still has one more performance left, on Wednesday, and I hope that they revive it in the near future.

And, finally a big hello to Mandy. I had hoped to catch up with you in the interval, but I had to bolt to the street for my nicotine fix, then the lift on the way back took for ever up and down up and down. but it was nice to see you, and I hope you enjoyed it, too!

Oh, and the stick waver was Edward Gardner who has cunningly had some grey dye inserted into his hair to make him appear older than Tadzio.

Cardiff Concert 1

Was shown on TV tonight. The official version is here.

We had a split vote in Gert Cottage, with Jimmy agreeing with the Official Jury and Pretty Blonde Spenceboy in nominating Elizabeth Watts - she is writing Liz's Cardiff Blog.

My favourite was Luciano Botelho, a Brazillian tenore di grazia. I thought he had the most beautiful voice, especially at the top, and he reminded me a lot of Juan Diego Florez,especially in the piece from Rossini. I liked all of them, up to a point. I have already written the following on a newsgroup:

I thought Sae Kyung Rim was too screachy on top and had a bit of a wobble, but otherwise had an attractive sound, but zero personality. I loved Luciano's gorgeous sweet tone, especially right at the top. He reminds me to some extent of Juan Diego Florez, especially in the Rossini. I felt he struggled when moving chest to head. Ante Jerkunica did the least for me. I noticed an absence of top (indeed I seemed to anticipating most of Pretty Blonde Spenceboy's remarks), and he seemed to lack charisma, which Levente Molnár had in spades. Toby Spence described his act as "Rants and Variations" and I would certainly have liked to hear how he coped with something more lyrical. I felt he was a bit rough around the edges but woth bags of potential. I think probably Elizabeth Watts was the best technically, although her Massanet did very little for me. Certainly the Szymanowski was a startling change in the rep.

Fotos

A few weeks ago I gave you a few links to my photoblog. I've published quite a few photos since then, indeed the front page has completely changed. The first photo I published after I previously linked is here

In a protracted 'moment' of madness lasting 48 hours I decided to take photographs of stuff I was cooking in a weekend. Photographically, the results are mixed, culinarily they were successful. The first is here and they go forward chronologically to here.

There's quite a lot of different pictures that have been lurking on my hard drive for some years, hopefully something for everyone.  Perhaps my favourite is:

Inherent lethargy

This is one of those boring blog posts that have to be written from time to time. It's not an appeal for sympathy just a statement of facts and a sort of explanation about my life.

Sometimes I am so full of energy. It's a real thrill, and very exciting. Sometimes, for a few hours I can believe that I am normal. I suppose I have always suffered from a surfeit of adrenaline and nervous energy, so even now, I can draw on it to get me through things.

Having CFS is - in some ways a little bit like depression. Mostly in the can't be bothered to do anything' way. A lot of times I plan things and then simply don't have the energy to follow through the commitment. Other times, I start off with energy but end up aching so much that it's really difficult to do things. Sometimes the aches and pains are just the muscular and joint aches that are part-and-parcel of fybromalgia, sometimes they're incidental and indicative of my very low pain threshold. Anything that has pain attached is unbearable. You know, really boring stuff like period pain, which I spent quarter a century shrugging off with a paracetamol and now takes an entire pharmacopoeia. Or silly trivial stuff like being laid low by a mild case of trapped wind.

Or the 'doing stuff' and being laid completely low as a result. Last weekend we did an open top tour of London. To be honest I wouldn't recommend it. It acts as a way to transport one between bus stops close to tourist attractions, rather than a way actually to see them - Whitehall/Westminster Bridge and Tower of London/Tower Bridge excepted. We also did a walk round Westminster Abbey which was kind of interesting. And then we went to China Town (we bumped into Simon; he asked what we were doing in those parts, he laughed when I said "Looking for a Chinese restaurant", I think with a tone on my voice which suggested I wasn't entirely optimistic I would find one!). After dinner home to a feeling of being completely over-tired, whingeing, I don't know what to do, I don't know if I want to play on the internet or have a bath.

I fancied going to the South Bank this weekend to witness the re-opening of the Festival Hall post refurbishment. Jimmy mentioned the seaside, I reckoned I couldn't do both, so I said Seaside Sunday, but Saturday night he said, we were out last weekend, we're out next weekend (guess who scored tickets for Trooping the Colour). I want to fight and say 'let's go out all the time', but he's right. So we spent the weekend combining a modicum of domesticity with general lazing around. I had quite a lot to drink yesterday, five or six glasses of wine, with food, over a considerable number of hours, and it completely knocked me out. Lying on the sofa trying to veg in front of the telly, falling asleep during the most interesting bits of 'Coast' (as I had done during the first episode of Andrew Marr's History of PostWar Britain, which is a really really good series for so very many reasons). And my stated intent for today is to do nothing - and do it in style. Well, not really, but there's never any harm in quoting an Ezio song!

Nature

Last year the blackbirds nested in our creepers. This year, they seem to be nesting next door. How much of a snub is that? The previous year we had a pair of wood-pigeons, in a drunken moment I named them Sieglinde and Siegmund. At least next door's blackbirds are using our garden for feeding. They are currently into dates we never got round to at Christmas.

Papa Blackbird is currently foraging; he appeared as soon as we left the table. So I am now under strict orders to stay inside whilst Papa Blackbird does his foraging, because if I went out I'd scare him.

It was so cool last year, they woke me up at about five o'clock in the morning and I watched Papa and Mama perched on chimney pots , one keeping watch on the nest whilst the other went searching for food. Something happened, another bird, one perhaps they see as predator, arrived and their tune changed, and near-panic arose. Mama flew back to the nest, Papa went on the hunt.

They're now singing, relieved that that weird human couple are no longer in their hunting ground.

But it's been a long time since I've seen Siegmund and Sieglinde.

Falstaff

Verdi as you've never heard him before. His last opera, premiered in 1893 when he was almost 80 years old, six years after Otello, which itself came 16 years after Aida.

After Shakespeare. I know Falstaff from Henry IV Part I which was an O-Level set text, but I don't know Merry Wives of Windsor. Wikipedia

This is on Sky Arts quite often, a cast made up mainly of singers just below star status. And Juan Diego Florez, who wasn't as stellar then as he is now. Coincidentally, it was the first thing recorded onto my Sky+ Box and by alphabetical chance it happens to be the first video I have transferred to DVD.

The production is boringly traditional, costumes an approximation to Elizabethan clothes, the sets seemingly painted flats, much of the singing delivered by people standing static at the front of the stage facing forward, might as well be a concert performance. Or the Village G&S Society's annual Mikado. (I wrote that before I realised it was a recreation of a 1913 production; I just have to ask why!).

Story quite simple - John Falstaff has written almost identical letters to various married women in the village. They compare notes and conspire...Meanwhile, Fenton and Nannetta are courting illicitly. Their music is more lyrical and in a much brighter key than that of the older folk, whose music is more conversational, on the whole. The conspiracy consists of them arranging an assignation, getting various men of the village in on the conspiracy, putting Falstaff in a linen chest and throwing him in the Thames, and then meeting up later in the woods to really teach him a lesson.

I've not explained this particularly well but Wikipedia has a more detailed synopsis

This isn't a 'pretty tunes' opera where you can go away whistling the tunes. Some people emphasise the modernism, but it isn't 'modern' in a twelve-tone anti-melodic way.

I have seen it a few times and it has yet to make the same overwhelming impression as most of his middle and late operas do. I do recognise that it is regarded as less accessible, a deliberate change in style. One thing I will say for it is that it is infinitely better than Vaughan Williams' version, Sir John in Love, which I had the misfortune to endure at ENO last year. But that us damning with faint praise.

I have tried so hard to like it, I have watched it three times in just the past couple of weeks. I have tried so hard to concentrate but keep finding that my attention is drawn by other distractions. I know I should try harder, I know that rewards grow proportionate to the efforts made. But I just can't make myself go that extra distance. I know full well that Falstaff is different from all of Verdi's other operas. Liking Falstaff is the sign of a thinking person, dilettantes don't get it. So I'm a Philistine shrug. Maybe I'll get it one day, but I'm not going to beat myself up in the process. Perhaps if I were to see it live, with a top cast or a great production, I would like it more. And I certainly wouldn't avoid it, as such, although it would be at most Priority 2 in weighing up cost, time, energy etc.

I kind of understand that part of the attraction is the characters. The trouble is, I feel no empathy for them. I think we are supposed to really like Falstaff as an embodiment of so much of the human spirit, the self-delusion, the gluttony, the unprincipled behaviour. But I'm afraid I just don't get that either. Sure, there are loads of people out there like him, but so what shrugs

I'm sorry, I set off to blog about every opera I own in alphabetical order, attempting to study them with some care, and to try and convey my unique personal insight...not that I'm claiming any special insight, just that this is my blog, and it's just a place where I write, like a private diary that I happen to allow other people to read, and in writing reviews of things, my primary customer is me (I also hope that readers enjoy what I write, but I'm not writing with the intention of drawing attention). I have approximately 250 versions of 125 operas, and growing, so life is too short to get too worked up about one I don't get anything out of.

Water works

A few weeks ago Thames Water sent me a letter saying that they were going to start digging up all round and about in order to replace the ageing water mains. I had read about this and in principle it seems like a jolly good idea.

They wrote notifying of a public exhibition that would be taking place locally - on the Thursday afternoon from 4pm to 7pm. I received the letter on the Tuesday and expressed my view that it was a joke: two days notice of a weekday afternoon event is box ticking, not proper consultation. They did try to argue that it was evening, not afternoon, but I argued that it presupposed everyone finishes work at 5.30 or earlier, which just isn't the case. It also presupposes an absence of prior engagement, which isn't realistic.

Their contractor rung me back and we had a pleasant and constructive conversation. From that, I got assurances that they would not work outside the hours laid down in statute (and, as far as I know, they haven't). He said they wouldn't be touching Gert Cottage Boulevard, but they were, in fact, due to start on the parallel road the next week. the work would take a few days. I felt smug, I was due in Manchester and would therefore miss it.

Five weeks later they are still there, in Parallel-to-Gert-Cottage-Boulevard Road, which is closed except for access, and is largely dug up. Most of the residents are forced into parking their cars elsewhere. I would feel smug, but...oh hell, I do feel smug. Meanwhile, Next-But-One-Road to GCB is also now dug up, putting even more pressure on vehicular traffic and parking. Like I care.

However, the holes, especially in Parallel Road are covered in planks. Not semi-rotten wooden planks, but state-of-the-art metal planks. Every couple of days either Jimmy or I remarks "Sounds like thunder" then giggles self-consciously, remembering that it's the sound of cars driving over the metal planks. This is particularly noticeable in the late evening, night-time and early morning, generally the time that people, whether they are larks or owls, are sleeping. And there is increasing need to leave windows open, so I do feel sorry for people living on Parallel Road, who have endure that noise at much closer quarters...apparently it's acceptable behaviour to create that racket at half one in the morning? Beats me, too!

The Grapevine informs that the delays have been caused by one of the suppliers going bust. Now I have sympathy with the project manager. Can't be paying workers to sit idle, but can't lay off skilled and experienced workers. Result, lots of dug-up roads, presumably waiting for parts, and, presumably, when the parts arrive there will be a massive backlog of roads that need parts fitting and then filling in.

It did make me wonder though, what sort of firm lands a contract to supply Thames Water in this Major Project and then goes bust? I then scolded myself, and asked, have you learned nothing? Classic case of overstretch, probably lack of cash flow. I've seen it so many times. I once audited a file where the Govt. Dept. concerned was paying a massive grant to a Local Authority for some Civil Engineering works. The surveyors report on progress was very negative, and mentioned that the contractors had under-estimated by a massive amount and heads had rolled. But there again, should Thames Water have contracted a supplier with a disproportionate amount of business. I wonder what the impact is on TW, deadlines, cost etc. Not to mention the protracted loss of amenity to road-users. Not that it bothers me, they haven't - yet - dug up any bus routes I use. And I would have thought that over the years Just sinc eI have been here, there have been so many emergency repairs to Brixton Hill it's probably go the most up-to-date water mains in London

Next week is Cardiff week

Details of TV and Radio broadcasts. I shall attempt to do a bit 'live-blogging' - dreadful word, worse concept. Except Tuesday, for I shall be at Covent Garden for Fidelio (which is, by all accounts, dreadful; if so I shall sell my ticket for the performance I also have booked in two weeks time). Oh, and maybe not Wednesday, because we have vague plans to Big ScreenDon Giovanni (weather permitting) (Erwin Schrott, Anna Netrebko - it's about time ROH presented me with something memorable)

Details of competitors, Guide to Opera mini-site , Frockwatch.

Mr USA Ryan McKinney who blogs as Opera Daddy has been on my bloglines for months, and his omisison from my blogroll is a bizarre oversight.

Update: (On DG, not Cardiff). Trebs has dropped out of the first night of Don Giovanni. Fortunately, the replacement is Marina Poplavskaya, who is more than up to the job - we were delighted when she was announced as the replacement for Angela Gheorghiu in Don Carlo and were well disappointed that she never got to appear in Cyrano de Bergerac for which she was covering (and we saw five times, so would have liked a better soprano than the one we had to endure five times). Let's be honest, Donna Anna isn't that much of a role, anyway. The stars are DG and Leporello, and Donna Anna is arguably the Third Lady

Luisa Fernanda in Los Angeles

Opened on Sunday and runs until a week on Saturday. The same production as was at the Teatro Real in Madrid last season and is available on a rather gorgeous DVD - my five sentence review

Domingo, cast find their perfect match in ‘Luisa’

Pretty thin stuff this -- thin and pretty.

Low-budget Domingo: Spanish operetta features great voices but disappointing set and costumes - mentions the appearance of Nicole Domingo (granddaughter) as a supernumerary.

Operetta, Spanish style -

It's Domingo's show. The gracefully aging tenor, 66, here takes on the baritone role of Vidal Hernando (the revolutionary), which sits just-so in his voice these days. There are a few high Gs, easily compassed. Domingo proves suave and eminently poised, his voice even and present from top to bottom.

Domingo & Co. deliver spirited "Fernanda"

Chris on Opera-L left at the interval (no-one tell him it's much better after the interval) and Siggy, also on Opera-L, but also of this parish enjoyed it,although I would suggest a Rioja or a Ribera del Duero would have been a better choice of wine!

Update: Out West Arts was also there

And, finally, unrelated, but this story made me laugh.

Blimey, I have a blog...

I like to describe myself as a portfolio person, renaissance woman, multi-tasking and multi-faceted. There are those that say I lack focus,am unable to concentrate, and have phases and fads I shall grow out of.

Today I happened to catch the Tube with an old old friend. I have known him since the Angel by-election, when he was a member of The Creche as Ted Knight* so memorably described it. We lost the Angel by-election, possibly because of that headline on the Nine O'Clock News because of corruption in Lambeth Housing. Fifteen years ago. At one stage, this friend and I used to spend a lot of time together - he was a councillor between 98 and 02. In o2 a great number of people stood down or were defeated in the polls, and some physically moved away. This friend lives on the same road as me and works near where I work. But we rarely see each other, just the occasional encounter in passing. Naturally, we launched into a heated discussion about the Deputy Leadership. It has occurred to me that maybe I ought to apply some thought and not waste my vote.

A woman got on at Stockwell and came to stand near us. My friend A saw her book,and announced - to me, to her, to the Tube carriage - "If you want a real raunchy read, Philippa Gregory's the one to read - The Other Boleyn Girl - lots of oral sex. I teach history and my Year 9s love it!" For a moment I feared this woman would think A was some weirdo pervert, which he absolutely isn't, but she laughed and said "And I suppose they then go and practice what they read." A few minutes later, after I had left them, I thought, if this woman has a blog, how would she write it - there were these two people on the Tube and one moment they're discussing Blair's legacy and Jack Straw being sacked for maintaining dialogue with Iran and Syria, and the next the man is talking to me about oral sex, and the woman suddenly disappeared at Vauxhall."

* aka Red Ted, ultra vires Leader of Lambeth Council in the 80s**

** it's really about time that I wrote some of my Lambeth memories before they disappear and I slip into my anecdotage.

Robert King jailed

Child sex abuse conductor jailed and Conductor jailed for abusing boys - the latter mentions that

(Judge Hezlett Colgan said) while he would have to register as a sex offender for the rest of his life, the "radical change" in King's life since the offences - marriage and parenthood - meant he did not feel it necessary to ban him from working with children in the future.

which strikes me as perverse. I can see an argument for not banning someone who committed offences only as a youngster themselves, or (logically, not morally) if the offences were only committed away from any sort of work environment.

There have been quite a few comments on the various opera newsgroups. I know the story has been around since last summer, but to be honest, I didn't think it would lead to a conviction - partly because sexual assault cases tend to have a very low conviction rate anyway, and this is a case going back several years, (although generally assaults on boys are seen as exponentially worse than assaults on girls), and because it is not unusual for false accusations to be made against prominent people.

So it feels rather unpleasant to me. I have a number of Kings Consort CDs and have attended a number of their concerts; I am lavish with praise. But I don't know whether I could ever listen to those CDs again with quite the same. The TKC website says nothing - as yet - but does carry a long list of CDs that seem very desirable. Or do they? I don't know.

And the Torygraph have managed to surpass themselves in asinine offensive stupidity

I really do wish justice had not been done...for me...his golden recordings have put him beyond reproach.

He was also about the only person in Classical Music who, when he opened his mouth, could actually be funny. He was the supreme raconteur and always had the audiences in the palm of his hand.

Mind you, that's what these types actually believe - being a Good Chap who plays the Game makes one above the masses for whom hanging and birching is too good, what oh. Gosh, perhaps there were, you know, common people on the jury. Wouldn't have been allowed in my day.

Wonderful

My previous entry in this category will show the casual reader that I am a devoted fan of Adam Ant.

However, I have to say this album is a misnomer. I have very little good to say about it; I removed it from my mp3 player pretty quickly, and realised that I had barely played it since buying it in 1995. If I'm feeling charitable, I would say that artists bring out dreadful 'Comeback' albums because they are so caught up and too close to the material, and no one has the common sense or guts to say "Woah! This is really bad, it's so bad it risks jeopardising your reputation and integrity that you strived so hard to establish." If I was less charitable, I would say it was a deliberate ploy by the record company, with or without the artist's connivance to take advantage of the gullibility loyalty of long term fans. It leaves a bad sound in the ear and a bad taste in the mouth.

Enough said

links for 2007-06-03

• Beauty experts slap health warning on lipsticks past their sell-by date
  So it's not just me that uses ancient make-up...I don't put the slap on v. often, not for work, so I don't get through it very quickly
  (tags: health)