Plácido sounded completely gorgeous in the second half. Overall, I have to say he wasn't at his not inconsiderable best. In Act II in particular, which is so pivotal, he was disappointing compared to how I heard him in New York. But he really did sound gorgeous in Acts III and IV and overall he was fabulous in terms of acting, stage presence, running a dagger across his throat, rolling on the floor, ascending to and descending from an altar, being in chains and flaunting his chest hair.
I have to say that the audience is the worst I have ever encountered in an opera house. Two fat ugly fur-wearing cows sat behind me decided that every time Plácido started singing, they would discuss this. One decided to unwrap a cough sweet, rattle her jewelry and provide a running commentary simultaneously. And to think that some beautiful animal had to die to make her look so ugly. Then there was the mobile phone going off,the constant coughing, the frequent conversations all around. In a shit opera house in a shit city where the food is so crap I'm actually pining for vegetables. Actually we're going into the old city tomorrow, which might be slightly better than this godforsaken dump that resembles Bournemouth on a bad day. A very badly designed opera house that may well look funky from the outside but is seriously rubbish inside. Considering it opened in 2005 you'd have thought they might have provided more than 8 cubicles in the women's loos serving the entire Platea (stalls), and it was pointed out to me that the lift only holds 6 people. It's generally very unaccessible (in terms of people with disabilities moving about and getting there if you don't have a car - it very clearly doesn't welcome people from out of town), the acoustics are crap, the refreshment offer is a joke, the audience is made up of ostentatious peasants in fur coats. It's like sticking an international opera house in Derby or somewhere. I seriously wouldn't recommend going there unless you are really desperate to hear a particular singer
But the performance was excellent. I was really really knocked out by the orchestra, head and shoulders above the New York one a year ago, and the performers were, well, Violeta Urmana and Ismael Jordi did not erase memories of Susan Graham and Paul Groves whom I had the privilege to hear in two different productions with very different musical interpretations last year. As I say Plácido was not at his best, although there was one bit in where I just reacted physically to his gorgeous voice and was so glad I was there. He seemed to be a bit subdued, a bit phlegmy at times, as if he's succumbed to the coughing that is clearly in pandemic mode round here.
Overall though, the winner was Christophe Willibard Gluck closely followed by Patrick Fournillier who worked marvels with the stick. And it is a lovely production - Stephen Wadsworth - even though I still think the ballet is a hilarious fusion of Cossack and Morris Dancing.
Oh, and no report from the Stage Door, because there isn't a stage door, just vehicular access via a tunnel under the road.
