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Tamerlano in Los Angeles

I have held back from compiling a post of the reports from this, four performances into a run of five. I am a little disappointed that California, supposedly the tech capital of the world, seems almost bereft of independent voices.

I also find the reviews somewhat problematic in their naivety. A lot of complaints about the production, but it is difficult to judge whether these are really justified, or whether they are a product of conservative audiences wanting ultra-traditionalist spectacles (or the reviewers projecting this assumption onto their readers).

I also find it wearisome to toil through endless "Shucks how weird" references to the counter-tenor voice or to the presence in the pit of instruments such as theorbos that don't have a place in a modern symphony orchestra, or the insinuation that the only Handel operas that exist are those that happen to have been performed in recent years at the New York Metropolitan opera house.

Also, most of the reviews, even those written exclusively for the internet, insist on long-winded recaps o the plot, which was never meant to be straightforward. It's a lot of padding to scroll through, and adds nothing to the writing, because those people who aren't familiar with the plot can look it up in Wikipedia

And last of all, I am disappointed (not the reviewers' fault!) at the frequent mention of people leaving before the final act. I accept that there are always valid reasons to leave early - in town from out of town for other business, might as well catch something if not everything before the last train; not feeling at all well; and really not liking it one bit to the point of irritation. But in an opera where most of the real gems of highlights come in the final act, it seems perverse to miss that!

I do realise I am reading from a position of luxury, having bought tickets for and failed to attend more Handel operas this year alone than have probably been performed in the entire United States ever.

In summary, I don't see any reviews that are providing me with a Handelian insight I desire.

That having been said, here goes with a summary of the reviews and reports!

Opera review: 'Tamerlano' at L.A. Opera

Domingo's voice may be too robust, lush and big to be ideal for works by baroque composers such as Handel. But the famed tenor was able to invest the part with great sympathy and appeal.

Domingo proved less agile and ornate in embellishment than did his colleagues, and his voice began to lose some sheen over the course of the 3 1/2-hour evening.

But no one came close to the dramatic power he invested in his role, and, despite Handel’s minor-key reconciliation chorus, his death scene almost justified the director’s hopeless vision.

A tame ‘Tamerlano’ at L.A. Opera

Domingo, dressed in colorful Turkish robes (did he insist?) as the imprisoned Bajazet, said to be the first major tenor role in opera, was not entirely in his element. The Baroque style is not really his forte, and he dispatched the quick running figures, the ornamental filigree and trills of the part with something less than aplomb. Still, he found plenty of lyrical passages with which to float and exude impressively and he was a dramatic force in the recitatives. Good dying scene, too.

Tamerlano, Music Center, Los Angeles

Domingo’s doomed sultan Bajazet delivers a death scene (given here in full) drenched in pathos and magnanimity of spirit, his voice a bit slow to warm at the start, his timbre sounding a mite baritonal, his communicative powers still unmatched. Some things in opera may be eternal.

Opera Heaven

Is tenor Placido Domingo really 68 years old?  In the role of the captive sultan Bajazet, Domingo sang like a champ. True, he no longer has the vocal control of his youth but there's still plenty of bloom and lyrical power left.  His tender act three duet with the gorgeous soprano Sarah Coburn, playing the part of Bajazet's daughter Asteria, was one of the evening's several highlights.

Domingo’s Towering “Tamerlano” Bajazet: Los Angeles Opera – November 22, 2009

with pictures

tickets were virtually impossible to find and surely will be a cherished memory for anyone who has seen this great 21st century performance by Domingo in a role in which he makes profound impressions, both vocally and histrionically.

Tamerlano

The great Placido Domingo plays Bajazet in this limited-run production, which closes December 1. He was in fine voice during the opening night performance, although he seemed to grow tired and jumped his musical cue at the opening of Act 3. Still, he splendidly portrayed the proud but defeated sultan

Domingo brilla en ‘Tamerlano’

Domingo encarna el espíritu del sultán derrotado hasta su dramático final en el tercer acto, aunque su voz no escondía el cansancio, pasadas las tres horas de función, la noche del sábado.

Opera review “Tamerlano”

Plácido Domingo as Bajazet is of course the main reason for attending this opera. His voice has depth, power, range, and as mentioned he has a great death scene: He’s the true tragic hero of the evening!

A Tamerlano for the Tenorissimo

In his 126th operatic role, Plácido Domingo seems destined to be, if not the world’s most adored tenor, certainly its most accomplished. He has sung in only one other Baroque opera in a long career, but Bajazet is a role uniquely appropriate for him. Domingo’s recent outing as a dramatic baritone in the title role of Simon Boccanegra should by all rights have left his 68-year-old vocal chords hardened and unready for Baroque coloratura. Understandably lacking some of the vocal dexterity of his colleagues, Domingo was, however, able to summon a plangent, brightened version of his tenor voice with enough agility to negotiate the demands of a role that emphasizes dramatic elements over pyrotechnics. Even as his energies dipped toward the end of the victory lap that the role of Bajazet represents for him, Domingo was up to the challenge, investing his performance with a young man’s intensity and commitment.

Star Vehicle

He not going down in any history book as a remarkable singer of Handel, but it is true that his performances continue to be of remarkable quality. His ability to command the stage with his singing and acting are largely unparalleled and its still something to watch younger singers, still in their vocal prime struggle to hold a candle to his presence.

The Sacrifice (on Handel's opera Tamerlano)

Placido Domingo plays the Baroque hero almost as if he were on a nineteenth stage, often dominating the action with his full and rich tenor voice. Since he is dramatically the most forceful figure, however, perhaps this is not as ineffective as it may first have seemed. In a sense, dressed, unlike most of the other modern-suited figures, in a glorious Turkish robe, he is the perfect foil for countertenor Bejun Mehta's high-pitched fascist rage. 

LA Tamerlano, a not unbiased review

Domingo and Dudamel

I’ve met them both briefly in person in the past and what they each exude is joyfulness, kindness and the sweetness of pure souls.

Domingo takes over the stage in “Tamerlano” .–  handsome as ever, his voice deeper and more golden. His on-going energy for a work schedule that would bring most of us to our knees is awe inspiring.

Plácido Domingo greets his fans in a post-performance marathon

Plácido Domingo has seen all kinds of fan adoration in his 40-plus years in the opera business. But he apparently had not seen anything quite like the crowd waiting to greet him late Wednesday night in downtown Los Angeles.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed the 68-year-old Spanish tenor as he emerged from a stage door and took a glance at the queue that had formed.

Domingo began autographing at 11:40 p.m. and did not finish until about 1:30 a.m.

When the last autograph had been signed, Domingo -- still looking energetic -- posed for a few photographs with fans. A Diet Coke provided to him earlier in the evening remained unopen on a table. He shook hands and said good night to L.A. Opera staff before disappearing backstage.

Mark Padmore and the English Concert do Purcell and Handel

Thursday night found me at the Wigmore Hall for an evening of Baroque indulgence. Mark Padmore is a tenor I rate very highly but often forget to include in my pantheon of tenors, because I hear him more on the concert stage than in the Opera House.

I have decided mixed feelings about Purcell. I kind of like his music but I can never quite define why I don't feel passionate about it. I was pondering this during the first half of the concert, dedicated entirely to Purcell, when I asked myself - what's not to like? Pleasant tunes and equally pleasant instrumentation, with the song words of elegance and beauty.

And I got my answer in the start of the second half. A passage from George Frideric Handel's Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat* Brethren - well, you only need to read the title: Where are these brethren - remorse, confusion, horror, fear, full of drama and despair.

Handel was writing as much as half a century after the death of Purcell and his most-performed works, and certainly the excerpts this evening, were the creations of his maturity, a luxury never afforded to Purcell, who died at 35. Indeed, the programme notes begin with this passage:

An anecdote tells that during a performance of Handel's last original oratorio Jephtha (1752), William Savage turned to the old (and now partly blind) composer, and remarked that a passage had reminded him of old Mr. Purcell. Apparently, Handel retorted that "If Purcell had lived he would have composed better music than this"

perhaps pre-empting the speculations as to what Mozart would have composed if he had lived long enough (to at least 58) to have heard Beethoven's 9th.

I suppose listening to an aria such as Let Me Wander Not Unseen from L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato one can get an insight into why some people find the da capo aria tedious; a great 'A' and a good 'B' is then followed by an ornamentation of 'A', which works better in some circumstances than others. I thought this was probably the weakest of the Handel pieces, whereas I felt Descend, Kind Pity from Theodora worked so much better.

The final aria Waft Her Angels from Jephtha transformed the evening from pleasantly enjoyable to something magic. I have a CD of Mark Padmore singing this, and it is one of several tracks I put on repeat.

I know I have said that the beauty of Handel is that by sticking to a tried and trusted formula, one can enjoy his works without anxiety about the music being unfamiliar (with the best will in the world, one would need a great deal of spare time and a lack of interest in other composers in order to become entirely familiar as a listener to all his operas and oratorios).

However, as I know really, being familiar with the music and the text enhances one's understanding and thus appreciation of the piece.

I think also it helps that Mark knows this role inside out having performed it in concert and in staged performances. As the concert was drawing to a close, he seemed to relax and get right inside the character/aria, in a way that was truly moving.

Unfortunately, that was also the moment where I found myself having to stifle a cough. The more I tried to stifle it, the more it began to choke me up, and I was beginning to feel that I might actually deprive my brain of oxygen**.

My feeling about him relaxing and enjoying himself were confirmed by his sole encore, Tune Your Harps from Esther.

I thought the lowlight of the evening was the arrangement of Purcell tunes into a 'Purcell Symphony' which interrupted the Handel part of the evening.

I thought the arrangement, by the English Concert's principal trumpeter Mark Bennett was clever and worked on its own terms - a medley of tunes from King Arthur and Fairy Queen.

But it only served to show the relative paucity of Purcell's orchestration. One of the tunes - I got confused as to which - struck me as extremely familiar from some or other collection of incidental music, but as with the Rondeau from Abdelazar (that tune, as used by Benjamin Britten), familiarity doesn't disguise the plodding essence of the tune.

I know I should write in detail about the English Concert, and certainly they were worthy of praise - the stand out was the gorgeousness of the oboes in Tune Your Harp. But ultimately, I chose the concert for the singer, and Mark Padmore did not disappoint.

I love his voice, not least his impressive range. Soaring high with confidence and lyricism robustly and tackling the dramatic end of the range. I suppose if I have reservations it is that he can be a bit uneven - for all the evenings I have spent with him that have delighted me, there have been several where I have thought him a little ordinary.

He is quietly confident on stage, and introduced several of the numbers in a way that seemed both natural and polished. A consummate professional he nevertheless lacks a certain je ne sais quoi, a showmanship that reaches out beyond the proverbial spotlights.

However, his voice is sweet and true, his technique excellent, and his instincts for Handel so perfectly honed it would be churlish to proclaim the evening other than a great success.

Incidentally, for those of you who have seen him this year with shaven head, you will be relieved to know his hair has grown back. I assume it was shaven for the role of Samson

I don't often go to Wigmore Hall. Partly because I kind of forget it exists and then find I am too late to book tickets. Also, it seems that singers that interest me present programmes that don't (for example Iestyn Davies a week or two ago) or an interesting programme on an inconvenient night (Carolyn Sampson earlier this week).

I think I find it a little bit intimidating. I have a sense rightly or wrongly that a large number of people are Wigmore Hall 'regulars'. Indeed, on a previous outing I overheard someone saying that, as a sub-editor she works nights, and designs her shifts round the Wigmore Hall programme.

I can't really understand that, for me it is just one of several - many - venues in London, and I pick and choose what performances I attend. I don't feel a particular loyalty to any venue.

But of course, this leaves me perceiving, probably incorrectly, a sense of cliquishness which unsettles me.

So, it was a delightful surprise on Thursday to find some people I already know from around town, but who introduced me to several more, which rather belies my fear of cliquishness. So that was a bonus for the evening!

My "Handel Year" ends on Tuesday with ENO's staged Messiah (he's a very naughty boy), which I suspect will be 'interesting'. I seem to have cancelled more Handel performances than I have attended, which is a matter of regret, but sometimes stuff happens.

I suppose the year will be capped by the Royal Opera House's belated token offering in March of next year, which I might go and see if I've nothing better to do at the time - but who goes to ROH for Handel, really! (insert smiley of your choice here!).

* don't try and persuade me I was the only person who had this thought!

** I knew instinctively that it was neither a psychological nor phlegmy cough, that I was actually choking on something. Various finger nails had been splitting throughout the day and my fingers invariably end up in my mouth**. When the aria finished and the audience indulged in sustained and enthusiastic applause I coughed and coughed, eventually producing a strand of my own hair that had become lodged in my throat - it's not even currently long enough to suck, as I tend to do if I can

Report from Berlin

For those of you don't always read comments, Nonie has posted a report on her trip to Berlin to Simon Boccanegra.

I took my teenage daughter to the Staatsoper last Tuesday night, having explained the rather complicated plot and reminded her that Plácido would not be the tenor I was met with a bored blank expression.

You can imagine this was just a teensy weensy bit irritating given the cost of transport & accommodation from Cyprus to Germany &tickets ...

At the end of the Prologue she leaned over and whispered "Bastard!" , who is darling ? "that oriental-looking guy who just shafted Simon out of his baby daughters life. Bastard!"

Likewise the unfortunately over-ambitious Paulo, his parents marital status being questioned.

The father-daughter recognition climax had tears streaming down her face, and in the last act she could barely contain herself, actually she didn't.

Which was pretty much the moment I absolutely understood the term "total theater" as used by His Maj in reference to Opera.
Watching my teenage daughter jumping to her feet yelling her head off during the applause ( nearly 30 mins according to the numbness in our hands and arms),it occurred to me that while we have every right to demand top notch performances from people who call themselves 'professional' and take our money for their performances it's easy to get side-tracked by musical- dramatic intellectual analyses .

The bottom line is not wether the tenor was inconsistent ( yes he was a little), or the costumes boring ( conservative to put it mildly) ,or the projected calm/stormy sea imagery works ( it doesn't it looks ridiculous since instead of being at Plácidos feet the images are level with his nose with the crashing waves sending spray well above his head!)etc etc.

Really what counts is wether or not the audience connects with the characters and their experiences through the music... for us it was a resounding 'YES'!

The cast were amazing, they were perfect.

I believe Daniel Barenboim plays a large part in that in the sense that he is the only conductor I know who connects so completely with the music he becomes a bridge between composer/orchestra/singers/sound, he literally completes the circle.

There was wild rapturous applause for all the principals , especially Anja ~Harteros who was Maria/Amelia and Placido, many people were calling out their names.

However it was no coincidence that the name the audience was calling out loudest and for the longest time was " Danny " .

When the daughter saw the whole marine thing her whispered response was ;" Oh God it's a Tsunami, should we throw him a life jacket and call out the coast guard ??" she was convinced there was a guy right at the very front who flinched, " maybe he can't swim".

I'd like to say thanks to Nonie for that, and also congratulations on bringing the teenage daughter into the fold!

Bryn Terfel at Royal Festival Hall

This happened on Wednesday night.

I went into the concert somewhat apprehensive.

This was part of a concert tour promoted by Raymond Gubbay, the master of dumbed-down cheesy Classic FM-lite pops concerts. My apprehension came in the light of reports of the appalling Renée Fleming concert at the same venue (approximately 20 minutes on stage) and of the Angela Gheorghiu concert, too, where most of her stage time was shared by a forgettable and not frightfully good tenor.

The tickets were priced far more highly than the usual price of tickets at the RFH (as had Fleming and Gheorghiu) and the running order was not available on the Southbank website.

In order to discover the running order, one had to buy a glossy programme for £5, which contained nothing of substance - even the running order was amended by insertion of a piece of paper straight off the office printer.

The notes on the songs were short and dumbed-down, and much of the £5 programme contained glossy adverts for further Raymond Gubbay events, no doubt which would also charge £5 for a programme full of glossy ads for...(you get my drift).

Fortunately, the printed/amended running order was substantial and I knew that if Bryn was on form, it would be a worthwhile evening.

My seat was not in a bad position although it was too far from the stage to be worth getting out my camera. I had some rather unfortunate neighbours, although to be honest, I have had worse.

Let's just say I was surrounded by crossover snobs: the sort that announce loudly - while the music's playing - that the Forza del destino overture is from the Stella Artois advert; the sort that make sure everyone knows that they're from Wales (like I care - London is a multicultural multi-ethnic city: I spotted people from Russia and the USA, and people I guessed whose ancestors had come to Britain from Africa via several centuries in the Caribbean). Oh, and next to me I had a Welsh Wagner-hater who hummed along to the crossover songs.

It was a shame that, at the prices charged, there could not have been a good orchestra/chorus/conductor to match the world class singer on the platform. Perhaps I am being harsh with the orchestra - they were made up of students and young professionals, and although one should expect high standards, I guess when they are left floundering by a piss-poor conductor, they have fewer reserves of experience to over-ride the inadequacies.

The orchestra displayed very little contrast in tone or dynamics. The worst part for me was during Iago's Credo from Otello. I have numerous different versions of Otello under several different conductors, and, although I don't tend to acquire them for the Iago, nevertheless, I find the Credo to be an example of Verdi's genius.

Dark, sinister, foreboding, ominous.

But not as played by Sinfonia Cymru under the wet lettuce baton of Gareth Jones. This was, perhaps for the first time ever (and let's hope for the last) Iago showing his cheerful fun side, a light tra-la-la full of promises of rose petals and fairy cakes.

Most of the other pieces were little better in respect of nuance and interpretation. A lack of continuity in the Donizettian runs  in the L'Elisir d'amore aria; and a lack of grandeur in the Der Freischütz.

They lacked depth, a result of the orchestra being pared down to minimal levels consistent with a period chamber ensemble (for mainly 19th early 20th century Romantic pieces!). I wouldn't have expected them to be so loud, so consistently loud, varying between mezzo-forte and forte, with the occasional venture into fortissimo for dramatic effect.

I thought it was maybe my ears, or some unfortunate acoustic effect of where I was sitting, because for quite substantial parts of the programme, Bryn's voice was drowned out. But when I could perfectly hear his perfectly placed unaccompanied pianissimi, I knew that the problem was the orchestra.

The London Welsh Chorale were similarly mediocre, to put it generously. Mainly, the sopranos screeched in their efforts to reach their (not very) high notes - I would dread to hear an Hallelujah chorus from them.

The male voices were more convincing, but consistently failed to close their consonants together, and other basic flaws which screamed 'amateur*' in large print. I may once have posed the rhetorical question - is it possible to listen to the Te Deum from Tosca without getting goose pimples? On Wednesday I found my answer to be a resounding 'yes'.

Their star turn was the Welsh Male Voice Choir version of Faust's Soldiers Chorus (which because of my liking for Welsh Male Voice Choirs, is more familiar to me than the French version), and really, they didn't do it, certainly not in comparison to the versions I have on CD.

So, what of the main man? He was excellent, there is no disputing that.  The tour is to promote his  Bad Boys CD - a concept album of evil characters from opera and musical theatre. And, actually, I would say, a great concept, and a generally well-programmed evening.

He is a supremely talented man, a great voice, the ability to convey character through voice alone, an instinctive stage presence which makes him a great showman, a natural rapport with audience. He sings in tune (which is no mean achievement) and and his voice is well-supported with excellent breath control.

He brought each and every aria to life, and though he was obviously battling with the slopping timekeeping of his conductor (his choice, his problem...) he was just excellent.

He introduced each number with a little explanation or story, which I think tends to go down well with audiences in general. Unfortunately, for this audience member, it seemed just a bit too measured, too rehearsed, and I suppose that sums up my overall misgiving about the concert.

Despite all the justified praise I have heaped in the previous paragraph, he nevertheless left me with a feeling that it was all a bit over-rehearsed, measured, and, ultimately, slightly too mechanistic to convince me totally of the spontaneity and passion.

There wasn't a stand-out aria for me, which also is a bit worrying in retrospect. I was pleasantly surprised by his When the night wind howls from Ruddigore, until I remembered it is in fact my favourite G&S aria, indeed, the only aria I actually like, from the only G&S operetta I actually like. And I could have done without the encore from Les Mis, which managed in two or three short minutes to express every cliché in the schmaltzy Musical Theatre paint-by-numbers guide (and the crossover snob alongside me humming along on one note!)

So overall, an enjoyable night, but one that would count as good, perhaps verging on the very good, because of Bryn's talent and professionalism, but not one for the ages, as they say, and unlikely to feature as one of my highlights of 2009, or indeed the decade! I was grateful that Bryn delivered a full concert programme, and pleased that I had chosen to attend this, rather than the Fleming/Gheorghiu fiascos.

He did a signing session afterwards, and I was vaguely thinking of joining the tail-end of the queue, but preferred in the end to share a drink with a friend (recently returned from gallivanting to Berlin's Simon Boccanegra - who declared that Bryn is no longer her favourite baritone, and me, being the halfwit that I am, asked "Oh! Who is?"). There were not many of us left in the bar area when he walked through with his entourage, presumably heading for the backstage area, but we didn't rush him or throw ourselves at him or anything like that!

* I realise that almost all the choirs that appear on concert platforms are technically amateur, but they perform in a manner which appears, to me at least, to be professional

All the votes!

I have been asked for further details of the voting on favourite singers, so I have uploaded the summarised totals.

Each of these files is basically the same, but you have a choice of formats. They contain two lists of the the total votes cast for each singer.

One of these is sorted in descending order from the King of Opera down to those who received one vote each; the other is sorted alphabetically by surname (family name) for ease of search.

Download Summarised - Excel 2007

Download Summarised - Excel 97-2003 compatible mode

Download Summarised - pdf. document

(You have no idea how much I love being an 'anorak' with data!)

The World's Favourite Opera singers, Official!

Well, not 'official', obviously, seeing as though this was advertised only on Opera-L, this blog, one small, elite private news group, and my Twitter and Facebook accounts.

The raw statistics: 70 people voted for 98 singers, of whom 49 got 1 vote, and 13 got 2 votes.

Many people expressed frustration that I limited it to 5, often adding a few also-rans. Many more commented that it changed from day to day. Several people tried to cast multiple votes for one of two particular singers.

Three bulletin boards/groups devoted to specific singers pimped their favourites, which I did not rule out. I don't believe it had a significant effect on the overall results, although it probably led to these singers being placed slightly higher (but those that responded did so in the full spirit with valid votes for 4 other singers, too).

On the blog, 68 singers were voted for; 31 once and 14 twice, leaving a clear Top 23. On Opera-L 66 singers received votes, 30 once and 9 twice, leaving a clear Top 19.

Between the two sources, there were some interesting anomalies - Opera-L placed Natalie Dessay, Piotr Beczala, Joseph Calleja and Susan Graham in the top ten; on the blog the first 3 were joint 24th, and Susan, nowhere. Ruggero Raimondi and Sarah Connolly similarly over-performed on the blog compared to Opera-L.

The overall winner was the joint winner on blog, and second on Opera-L. Mr. Second-Place was joint top and 3rd; the 3rd place singer won Opera-L and came 4th on the blog. 4th was 3rd (b) and 9th (O-L); and 5th was 9th and 4th. So I feel there is reasonable consistency between the results.

No one voted wholly for the top 5, but Alexandra W and ZSQ900 (both from Opera-L) got the top 3. Mary Victor, Jane Clay, Laura and Intermezzo got 3 of the top 5. Jan managed to get all their nominated singers into the Top 19, as did Irina, who only voted for 4. Only Jane Ennis declined to vote for anyone who made the final Top 19, but did cast a vote for someone who was joint 20th.

Of the top 23, 7 are tenors (including Domingo), 3 baritones, 5 sopranos, 5 mezzos (including Meier), 2 bass-baritones (including Raimondi), and 1 bass. Only two counter-tenors got one vote each (one from me - am I a secret seagull fancier!).

Five of the top 23 are British, but one born Russian and one born Canadian. 4 are German and 4 from the USA, both Russians now hold alternative citizenship. 15 are from Europe (from Wales to Siberia) and 8 from the Americas (from Argentina to Canada). Two South African singers feature lower down the list, but otherwise I can't identify any as being from Africa/Asia/Down-Under.

So, for the results!

The top ten female singers, with votes cast, are (with Blog/Opera-L breakdown in brackets)

Sondra Radvanovsky 11 (6,5)

Renée Fleming  10 (5,5)

Joyce DiDonato 9 (6,3)

Natalie Dessay 8 (2,6)

Anna Netrebko 7 (3,4)

Elina Garanca  6 (4,2)

Waltraud Meier 6 (5,1)

Sarah Connolly 5 (5,0)

Susan Graham 5 (0,5)

Anja Harteros 5 (4,1)

The ten top men are:

Plácido Domingo 23 (14, 9)

Jonas Kaufmann 21 (14, 7)

Dmitri Hvorostovsky 19 (9, 10)

Juan Diego Florez 17  (12, 5)

Rene Pape 13 (6,7)

Simon Keenlyside 12 (7, 5)

Marcelo Alvarez 11 (8,3)

Ruggero Raimondi 9 (7,2)

Piotr Beczala 7 (2, 5)

Jospeh Calleja 7 (2, 5)

which leaves the Top 23 thus:

1. Plácido Domingo

2. Jonas Kaufmann

3. Dmitri Hvorostovsky

4. Juan Diego Flórez

5. Rene Pape (I ought to have a picture of Rene but, despite chasing him down Las Ramblas, I don't)

6. Simon Keenlyside

7= Marcelo Alvarez

7= Sondra Radvanovsky

9. Renée Fleming

10=Joyce DiDonato

10=Ruggero Raimondi

12. Natalie Dessay

13=Piotr Beczala

13=Joseph Calleja

13=Anna Netrebko

16=Gerald Finley

16=Elina Garanca

16=Waltraud Meier

16=Rolando Villazón

20=Sarah Connolly

20=Susan Graham

20=Anja Harteros

20=Bryn Terfel

Finally, several people wrote that they weren't voting for Rolando Villazón even though they adore him - like me they were using the 'off sick' reason (because it made it easier to bring it down to 5!).

A few felt Thomas Quasthoff ought to at least get a honourable mention, although he rarely sings in opera, because of his considerable physical disability, but vocally he is amongst the current greats.

And what does this exercise prove? Not a lot, actually! But by limiting the numbers voted for to 5, I am sure I have created a situation where people feel that their 6th, 7th and 8th is unjustly overlooked. By arbitrarily cutting off at the top 20 I have omitted, for example Alagna and Gheorghiu, amongst other 'superstars'.

Pettily, I am actually peeved that Jonas Kaufmann is as popular on this blog as Plácido Domingo. And those who know me will be giggling that Sondra Radvanovsky (who I dislike muchly as a singer - although she seems a very nice person) came top of the women. The ones I voted for came 1st, 2nd, 16th, joint 37th and joint 49th!

Forthcoming documentary

Imagine line-up revealed

The BBC has unveiled the artists that will be explored in the forthcoming series of flagship culture programme Imagine.

The new season will start with a show on sculptor Anish Kapoor on November 17 at 10.35pm...

...Later episodes are set to cover Shirley Bassey, Placido Domingo, Joan Baez and Scrabble.

When I know a transmission date I shall post it here. I am sure that, for people beyond the reach of BBC broadcasts, the programme will be available from the internet in one way or another within days! ;-)

Poppy hypocrisy

It's that time of year when the wearing of a poppy becomes de rigeur on TV, where any public figure or, indeed private individual not wearing one is subject to questioning, often of an insulting or bullying nature, and where the news media are full of stories of perceived or actual slights to the Poppy.

The British Legion was founded in 1921, following the First World War. That war was a watershed in modern warfare. From a British perspective, it was the first in modern times where so many men were conscripted (without choice). It was also notable for the large numbers killed - many leaving widows and dependent children -  and seriously injured, many too seriously to earn a decent living, hence the need for a charity to support the destitute and needy. The Poppy became the symbol of their annual appeal, remembering the poppies that grew in the fields on the Western Front.

The First World War gave rise to a thought - a hope - that it mustn't happen again, it was 'the war to end all wars'. But as we know, the Armistice was only an Armistice, and hostilities resumed within 21 years - barely a generation later. And again, ordinary men (and women) were called up to serve in the army, having little choice unless they were in a reserved occupation (or physically unfit).

Conscription - or National Service - carried on after the Second World War until it was abolished in 1960, and the British Army/Navy /Air Force became volunteer forces. Highly trained, with a professional officer corps and highly skilled tradesmen and women. No one is conscripted into the British Forces, all are there by choice.

The reasons for the two world wars are complex, but I think we all know the 'headline' reasons. The First World War was started by disastrous macho posturing by the men in charge; in the Second World War it was to counter the disastrous effects of the Nazis, who had risen partly (largely?) as a result of the macho posturing in the Treaty of Versailles.

The Poppy Appeal, and the Remembrance Festival, had been set up to remember those who had died so pointlessly in World War I, and was extended to include the dead of World War II - it is often said that they gave their lives so we could be free.

One characteristic that appals me most whenever I read about World War I is the jingoistic fervour whipped up by the British population, egged on in no small way by the media, labelling anyone who didn't wish to fight as a coward or traitor. The reaction to that included poems by writers such as Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon, which I think are pretty much compulsory reading at school.

Fast forward to the 21st century, and we have our volunteer forces fighting wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Regardless of the fine point of International Law, it is at best doubtful whether they have any moral right to be there.

In Afghanistan, for example,  the war aims are unclear - and seem to alter whenever the wind changes. The civilian deaths and casualties are covered up - how often do you read about them in the broadsheet let alone the tabloid press. Those who take up arms to defend their country - as every good Englishman should do, apparently - against a foreign invader are labelled as 'insurgents', guerrilas or Taliban.

Meanwhile, every year the British Legion, nowadays with a Royal prefix, holds a Festival of Remembrance at the Albert Hall, which is televised. I watch it most years, for reasons that need not detain us now, and each year I am appalled by the lies and propaganda that are peddled. Small children, too young to read Owen and Sassoon, are fed lines about the soldiers (etc) fighting in Iraq/Afghanistan 'to protect our freedoms' or 'so that we can be free'.It is so wrong, wrong that these lies are being put out on national TV, and wrong that children are being brainwashed with inaccurate information.

We have come a long away from the legacy of the First World War, where people vowed never again to be fooled by jingoistic propaganda started by the Press and spread by their unthinking readers.

Most of us have little difficulty in understanding how the Second World War was about fighting for our freedom (even if we may debate the detailed causes and sequence of events).

I simply see no justification for the hysteria being whipped up now, the snide hints that anyone not wearing a poppy is somehow not 'patriotic', or the crazy situation where a shop that enforces its general policy of no charity badges becomes national news. We are forced to accept that the Poppy Appeal is different from any other charity.

And yet, what is it mainly about?

Providing support, probably much needed support - to former volunteer soldiers (etc). If people wish to donate, and display the emblem of giving, that's great. But I can think of no other charity - or their supporters - who are so strident and so insisting that every body joins in.

A far more fitting memorial to those slaughtered and maimed in 1914 -1918 would be to vow never to go to war except in self-defence, never to get caught up in jingoistic bullying.

This is why I shall never again donate money to the British Legion nor shall I ever wear a poppy - if I did wear a poppy nowadays, it would be with shame.

Safety Starts Here

For several months, Streatham Hill station has been undergoing building or renovation works. I think it's to do with the sidings/loco sheds but it also affects the passenger parts of the station, such as a temporary exit and entrance.

This sign bugs me. I'm not entirely sure why, but I think it's because it seems inadvertently to imply that 'Safety' is of no concern on the platforms or even the actual rail track.

Autumn Desolation

I had this all to myself last Saturday. It's alongside Sinderland Brook, which separates Sale and Altrincham.

I walked from the A56 main road (near the Pelican) up to Woodheys Park and did not pass a soul. It did cross my mind - if I were to be attacked it might be days before anyone found me.  Meanwhile, of course, the A56 was bumper-to-bumper with traffic going nowhere fast.

Given that I wasn't attacked, but did get mud on my shoes and the bottom of my trousers, who do you think was better off?

Plácido as Simon Boccanegra

Just typical that the weekend that the world's Greatest Tenor takes on a truly* baritone role, I am stuck somewhere with no internet**, so short of googling on my phone in bed, I really had little idea of what was going on in Berlin on Saturday. The disadvantage - this blog didn't contain news and reviews hot off the wires. Advantage - I can collect a wealth of stuff and pick and choose what's worth blogging!

A selection of rehearsal photos, taken from Plácido Domingo gastiert auf Berliner Bühne

El gran sueño de Plácido Domingo

"Pre-match" interview from last Saturday - not actually saying anything new!

And the reviews

Placido Domingo tries out Verdi baritone role - Associated Press

To be sure, the sound of Domingo's voice — even miscast — ringing out at full cry in an opera house is something to be treasured, especially now that he is cheating time with every performance. So it was natural that the first-night audience responded with foot-stomping enthusiasm and curtain calls for him and his fellow performers that lasted 20 minutes.

After 50 years as a tenor, Placido Domingo turns baritone for Verdi - The Times

Suddenly Domingo can hope to compete for key baritone roles and broaden his market appeal. “We look forward to the day when he plays the super-bad Iago, baritone of course, in Verdi’s Otello,” says the Rheinische Post critic Wolfram Goertz. “And if his tenor colleague playing Otello should lose his voice, I am sure that Domingo could jump in and play both roles.”

Clamor por Domingo en Berlín - El Mundo

Domingo parecía un coloso en escena. Le arropaba un manto púrpura de terciopelo y agradecía los clamores con la sonrisa de un debutante. Tiene 68 años, pero la frescura de la voz y la fortaleza escénica desmienten cualquier atisbo de decadencia.

Just as a note on audience appreciation of productions, this reports that the production booing was for the conventionality, predictability and vulgarity.

Berliners Boo Director, Cheer Domingo as Baritone: Review - Bloomberg

he found vocal happiness in Verdi’s somber (sic) opera...has aged without losing his sex appeal...exuded alpha- animal charisma throughout. This is no tectonic shift in voice type or technical miracle. Domingo simply sang as he always does, with crackling presence, musical intelligence, fastidious attention to detail, and bold imagination. The low notes are not always the loudest, but the high notes are effortless, and everything in between is utterly compelling.

Singers weighed down by proto-Renaissance robes, brought to mind “Batman” and “Shrek.” Domingo sang his final death scene in a floor-length gold frock with matching tea-cosy hat, while his daughter stood about in white lace (costumes: Giovanna Buzzi). Perhaps the more conservative and differently fashionable Milanese will love the show

Jubel für Plácido Domingo an Berlins Staatsoper - Zeit

Doch mit seiner Bühnenpräsenz schafft er die richtige Mischung aus Autorität und Zerbrechlichkeit. Nach mehr als einem halben Jahrhundert Karriere dürften wenige Sänger das Publikum so stark beeindrucken.

Brokatkugel und Flatterkleid - Zeit

in which the Stage Director gets torn apart (if there was a German word for 'Met Trash' it would surely be in this article!)

Der reife Debütant ist die einzige lebende Bühnengestalt in einer grotesken Veranstaltung

Plácido Domingo überzeugt auch als Bariton - Welt

Plácido Domingo gibt dieser durchaus zwiespältigen Verdi-Figur Kraft, Würde und Wärme, er ist leidenschaftlich und souverän bei der Sache, mit herbstlich strahlenden, rotgoldenen Tönen

Simon Boccanegra - Guardian

Conveying the near Shakespearean journey of the soul suffered by Verdi's troubled doge was never likely to be a problem. He achieved it beautifully. The surprise was seeing him play a man his own age, knowing he could just as easily play the young hero, Gabriele Adorno (perhaps even better than Berlin's somewhat uneven Fabio Sartori).

Yet his voice still has a lightness which meant that the impact was strangely reversed: top notes which frighten a baritone were golden and resounding, whereas the lower notes, though confidently negotiated, seemed slightly underpowered. By the end of this year, he will know where his voice has landed. With dates booked until into his eighth decade, this adored singer, who won a 20-minute standing ovation, is in a fascinating state of flux

Domingo Excels as Boccanegra- New York Times

Mr. Domingo’s burnished tone was deeply moving when urging peace and love. In sterling form throughout, he brought a deft touch to the final word, “figlia” (daughter), of the recognition duet with Amelia, a problematic moment for baritones.

And thanks to Rossignol for the only blog post I can find!

Plácido Domingo: Simon Boccanegra

If anyone knows of other blogposts, or would like to write their own, for posting here, in any language, please let me know!

And a short YT clip of the Sixth Curtain Call...

* we know that he has taken the baritone part in several duets, and that Oreste is a slightly-adjusted-for-tenor baritone role

** My mother's several neighbours helpfully call their secured wireless networks by easily identifiable names; she wasn't keen on me going from door-to-door asking for passwords!

Plácido Domingo - My Greatest Roles

Plácido Domingo is the most important person alive in opera.

Greatest of the stage tenors still performing, experienced conductor, intendant of not one but two US opera houses these bald facts hardly begin to delineate the man.

Major sponsorship flocks to him, his influence is felt in opera houses worldwide, and his support can be the making of a singers career. And once every ten years he allows television cameras in. This time is probably the last television look at his active career and takes the form of a retrospective of his greatest work, building up a picture of this unique man throughout his extraordinary career.

Plácido Domingo has selected the roles he regards as his greatest, and the particular performances at which he was at his peak, which were all filmed:

Vienna Opera:

• Carmen
• La Gioconda
• Lohengrin

The Royal Opera Covent Garden

• Andrea Chenier
• The Tales of Hoffman
• La Fanciulla del West
• Otello

Film version:

• Tosca, the settings and times of Tosca

I' ve ordered this but it won't actually arrive until January. It is released earlier elsewhere, but there seems little point in getting a DVD with the wrong region (besides, who wants NTSC when you get PAL)