Gertsamtkunstwerk

Plácido's granddaughter on TV in Spain

Antena 3 presenta 'Ellas y el sexo débil', su nueva apuesta de ficción » Noticias Televisión FormulaTV.com

As far as I can tell, she keeps some of her clothes on. Still, this second link is possibly NSFW, depending on your workplace.

IMDb

Endless Love...just added to YouTube

Diana Ross & Placido Domingo 'Endless Love' Japan 1997

Just one to link to this evening. YouTube...dozens and dozens of women gazing adoringly at Plácido.

TV alert...but not in Britain

The BBC...that is, the British Broadcasting Corporation...is launching a new series this Saturday called Spirit Of The Arts.

Spirit Of The Arts is a new unique series of programmes which give an insight into the personal lives of four of the world’s leading operatic stars.

30 September is Renée Fleming; 7 October is Kiri Te Kanawa; 14 October is Cecilia Bartoli.

23 September

Placido Domingo is one of the world’s best-loved opera stars. His illustrious career is now well into its fifth decade, and he is still singing, recording, conducting and running two major opera houses. Born in Madrid in 1941, music was always in his blood. His parents were stars of the Zarzuela, traditional Spanish operetta, and from an early age he was surrounded by music. His family moved to Mexico when he was eight, and he entered Mexico City’s Conservatory of Music.

He spent two and a half years with the Israel National Opera in Tel Aviv, before making his debut at the Metropolitan Opera in New York in 1968. Since then he has performed regularly in all of the major opera houses around the world, and his repertoire has spanned 122 roles. He has established a career as a conductor, and he is also Director of both the Washington National Opera and the Los Angeles Opera. His annual opera competition, Operalia, has become one of the largest of its kind in the world, with total prizes amounting to almost $200,000.

This is on BBCWorld.

I emailed BBC World:

Further YouTube

By Strauss, with Julie Andrews and John Denver

Florestan's Aria, in two parts. That staging (by Jean-Pierre Ponelle) is extraordinarily moving.

Now, that's what I call applause...from a 1995 concert in Bogota

Four nice clips of still photos with appropriate musical backing: one, two, three, four. Including some contributions from Faye and me.

Excerpt from Luisa Miller, including the "Viva Maria Callas" shout excised from the recent video release...and a Callas War in the comments thread.

A superb concert performance of C'est toi-c'est moi from Carmen, proof that neither costumes not sets are required to be utterly convincing as Don Jose and Carmen.

Mstislav Rostropovich on cello, Plácido on piano

Various Three Tenors 1990 clips: O sole mio, closing medley...I really should get this on DVD; I have it on the same video tape that I contains my first appearance on Fifteen To One. And on vinyl LP.

Thanks to Jolanta as ever for favouriting these, for the numerous people who posted them to YouTube, and last, but certainly not least to Plácido for bringing so much pleasure to so many people for so long. (And long may he continue to do so!)

Yet more YouTube

Aida duet from the Vienna Gala last year

Classical Brits - presentation of Lifetime Achievement Award (if you listen very closely, just after Darcy Bussell speaks, you can hear me scream) and singing Non ti scordar di me. In fact, when you hear screaming, assume that's me (amongst others...)

A sensual Andrea Chenier Act IV finale (with added bonus of Serie A latest scores...)

Four compelling clips from a concert in Buenos Aires in 1992.

Part of the Prologue from Les Contes D'Hoffman - the Kleinzach song. This was the first opera I ever watched on TV, just days after I fell in love with Plácido (he was on 'Parkinson'), and I so love it. This scene is an object lesson, really draws in the viewer.

Recondita Armonia and E lucevan le stelle from 1974, two good reasons the opera ought to be called "Mario Cavaradossi".

And not from YouTube, but an anecdote from Opera-L

Here is a story that often told in Phoenix. I was not in AZ at the time so I'm not sure of the year.

Placido Domingo sang a concert and was whisked off to a dinner immediately afterwards. After the dinner he returned and sang most of his selections for the people cleaning the hall. It was very much appreciated by the cleaning staff, most of whom are Spanish speaking.

Pictures from a concert that opened a concert hall

Concert Hall Opens With Cartier Sponsored Gala Concert Starring Placido Domingo

Review of a new concert hall

OCRegister blog: Classical life - post: Segerstrom Concert Hall: First Impressions

Very little about the music, though.

A bit more about the music

Renee & Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall Inaugural Concert

New concert venue 'a beautiful beacon'

And then on Saturday, Washington:

Unfortunately for the bleary-eyed, dessert didn't get served until midnight, just as Mr. Domingo was winding up his always charming but ever-more-lengthy (a record half-hour this time) thank-yous to cast, crew, orchestra, directors, producers, management, benefactors, etc. "Next time," one wag noted, "I'm sure he won't forget the valet parkers."

And earlier in the week, Los Angeles

A Ring for Los Angeles

New `Ring' Cycle at L.A. Opera

The source of funding is no surprise to those of us who have spies all over the blogosphere.

"This new production will not be a tremendously expensive" Ring,'' Domingo predicted.

I think we can assume that this won't be the George "Star Wars" Lucas Ring, then...

And you would have thought that the Press could have taken a picture of Siegmund from a better angle...

more and here and here

Update: A video clip of the announcement by the General Director of LA Opera. It's supposed to be almost 13 minutes but I can only manage to get as far as 3:30 minutes.

Dream Come True...

This is quite possibly, at least for the moment, my favourite YouTube clip. Plácido singing "It's Now or Never", which I remember seeing on the telly way back when, not so very long after I first fell in love with him.

Sadly, it also contains the nightmare that is Andrew Lloyd-Webber (and the wonderful Suzi Quatro) singing 'Oh boy'

hat-tip to Raffe

First Emperor to be filmed...

Met announces plan to simulcast opera to millions in US, Canada and Europe

The Metropolitan Opera will transmit six live performances to movie theaters and will broadcast more than 100 live performances over the Internet or on digital radio in a groundbreaking attempt to expand its audience. The high definition satellite simulcasts to hundreds of movie theaters in North America and Europe will begin Dec. 30 with Julie Taymor's English language adaptation of Mozart's "Magic Flute" under the baton of James Levine. Other productions scheduled for simulcast are "I Puritani," starring soprano Ann Netrebko (Jan. 6); the Jan. 13 world premiere of Tan Dun's "The First Emperor" with Placido Domingo in the title role; "Eugene Onegin," starring Renee Fleming and Dmitri Hvorostovsky and conducted by Valerie Gergiev (Feb. 24); the new production of "The Barber of Seville" with Juan Diego Florez (March 24); and the new production of "Il Trittico," conducted by Levine and directed by Jack O'Brien (April 28).

More cause for stress. January 13th. Will Brixton Ritzy or Clapham Picture House show it? Surely some cinema somewhere in London? This is stressful.

Although I wouldn't get too excited about ''High definition". My understanding is that NTSC HD is about as clear as PAL or SECAM normal. If that.

Still, any excuse for an opera post. I have got nothing planned until Faust on 27 September and then only if I'm not holiday. Gerald Finley has cancelled our date for next week. He's ill. (Would it be very stalker-ish to send a 'get well' card to his home address?).

I'm thinking of going to Gaddafi the Opera at ENO but the dates don't look that great for me. I think I'll probably be able to get a ticket just by turning up at the door.

Interview with Plácido and Rolando

Plácido Domingo da la alternativa en la zarzuela a Rolando Villazón

Pictures from Denmark

Thanks to Raffe!

Photos from Trondheim

This is such a wonderful set of photos of Plácido Domingo, Sissel Kyrkjebø and Virginia Tola live in Trondheim, that I just can't resist posting a link. 222 in all - and note the drop-down box that allows to resize from 640x425 (best screen width) to 1024 x 680 (significantly bigger...!). Twenty five pages in all, by page 24 it looks like Sissel and Virginia are having a catfight over their man - and who would blame them...

via

Oh, and I've just got myself a little YouTube lifehack - I've subscribed to Jolanta's Favourites...

And he conducts, as well

Main Rheiner · "Eine wunderbare Gruppe junger Menschen" - Weltstar Plácido Domingo studiert in Mainz mit der Europa Chor-Akademie Verdis "Requiem" ein

Lovely links from the Frozen North

Thanks to Raffe for links to a couple of video clips from Norwegian TV, as highlighed in the comments box on the previous entry. Raffe attended the concert in Esbjerg, Denmark the other night but sadly is unable to attend the Trondheim concert. She claims to have an excuse to do with work but I think it's just a cover for the fact that she'll be attending the Andrea Bocelli-Katherine Jenkins Tristan und Isolde in Pyongyang.

And there's more (although I have had trouble streaming...so much for my early night tonight...) here at about 7:05 and here at about 1:50. Enjoy...!

Thanks Raffe

And some more links - thanks to "Anonymous" who also supplied one of those!

Luisa Fernanda

Love in a hot climate

DVD available 'later this year'

Luisa Fernanda in Madrid

And broadcast on Spanish Telly, according to Kaz (Youngest Pensioner) on her eternal holiday on a Costa, clarifying the phonecall I received from Favourite Niece, skiving-school and zarzuela-watching on an Ibizan poolside (yes, she phoned me up specially - using Mum's phone, of course...)

Plácido Domingo celebró junto a los madrileños el fin de la temporada del Teatro Real

El público canta zarzuela junto a Plácido Domingo durante la despedida de la temporada del Teatro Real

Plácido Domingo saca la zarzuela a la calle

La plaza de Oriente se entrega a «Luisa Fernanda»

Video of a post-performance cast inspection by Juan Carlos and Sofia

Y'know, I so adore him with that beard. I hope he doesn't get rid of it...

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...

Plácido at the World Cup Finals

As wasn't shown on UK TV* Sulk

* except for less than a minute, sort of, on ITV, in the background...

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

When did your love for opera start ?

a) Before I was born
b) when I was small
c) when I fell in lust with an opera singer on the Parkinson show
d) Three Tenors concert 1990

No, Zoe, you got it all wrong. I don't love opera, I just go for the stalking...!

My father was very into opera, and my parents' first date was a trip to Rosenkavalier when the Royal Opera was on tour in Manchester about ten years before I was born.

We didn't have telly when I was little; we had radio, and the radio was often on, on Radio 3, as I sat immobile and engossed in my books as a small child.

Then we got telly and one Christmas just before I became a teenager (but was most definitely a teenager in moodiness!) I was forced to watch telly en famille. Crappy middle-England middle-class middle-age light entertainment telly. Parkinson. None of the guests was interesting. I'm not sure I'd even heard of them. Time to go to my room. But oh no, it's Christmas, let's play happy families zombied out in front of the TV. The TV that for all the rest of the year - Songs of Praise excepted - was a Bad Thing. But because we were playing Happy Families, I had to watch 'some boring opera singer' on Parkinson.

Almost thirteen, bursting with hormones, vulnerable to teenage crushes.

"Cor, he's a bit fit!" I thought. Then he sang. That was it. Love at first sight. And I insisted on watching him in Les Contes D'Hoffman a few days later on BBC2.

But you have to remember that in the Eighties, and even into the Nineties, records and then CDs cost a fortune. Probably more, in cash terms, than they do nowadays. Only four TV channels, no video (until 1990). It's hard to maintain a crush when the crush object is only on TV once or twice a year, when recordings are beyond the reach of pocket money or student grant. It's hard to be an opera fan in Manchester (in those days: it's improved with the opening of the Lowry Centre at Salford Quays). My mate did Music A-Level, and commented that it's all very well studying opera in a dry academic way, but not much use when you don't have the records at home because you can't afford them.

And then there's time. When you work full-time and combine it first with studying for a professional qualification and then with being a Lambeth councillor. And when you work for an employer that expects you to drop everything to go off on a week's audit at little notice. And money. When you are constantly in debt thanks to the 29.5% interest imposed on "Graduation Loans" - £150 a month to pay back my loan, when my starting salary in 1989 was £9,250. When your disposable income is spent on meeting up with friends - before they had babies or moved to far-flung places. When you really don't feel comfortable going places alone, and it's impossible to organise friends to do stuff, other than meet up for drinks or come round for dinner. And when the lazy media portray opera as expensive. But I retained my adoration for that gorgeous singer I had first encountered on Parkinson in December 1980, even though, inevitably, over time, one's fervour rises and falls.

I did start collecting operatic CDs and the occasional video in the early 90s, but the bulk of my collection was compilations and highlights. Being a councillor, as well as a full time accountant, left little headspace for intellectual pursuits. More soap opera than opera. Then I consciously downsized my lifestyle, which made me happier (Eight years on I no longer wake up in a cold sweat from bad dreams of the NAO. Woot! Yay!). Happier and less stressed but considerably poorer. And I actually went about two years when I barely played any music at all. Except compilations, classical and pop, possibly because they required little thought.

Then one day, I had had a bit of a bad morning at work. nothing major, but I decided I needed "Retail therapy". Only, I took myself off to WH Smith in Victoria Station instead and miserably perused their dismal collection of CDs for sale. Just one leapt off the shelf and demanded I took it home.

And I kept listening to it over and again, and realising how much I loved his voice. And I realised I needed a) digital TV (mainly for Artsworld) and b) a DVD player. I then realised that it's not so difficult to get tickets for Covent Garden (especially after they went online in 2003). And that tickets are not expensive, not if you've got some disposable income

But the only reason I love opera is because I have been consumed by lust for Plácido Domingo for twenty five years. And I discovered that by writing frequently about him on this blog, I get a great many visitors from all over the world who check back regularly, so I feel obliged (a very pleasant obligation) to continue writing about him. And the only reason I went to see him seven times, and assiduously stalked him, was for the blog. Honest.

Q from Zed

Luisa Fernanda in Madrid

Plácido Domingo: «Cada vez que canto «Luisa Fernanda» me acuerdo de mis padres»

Plácido Domingo: «Cuando canto “Luisa Fernanda” contengo las lágrimas»

'I was never a natural tenor'

says Plácido Domingo blithely, and smiles when I stare at him open-mouthed with surprise. Plácido Domingo, the greatest, most versatile, most-gonged singer of all time...

...not a natural tenor

'I started as a high baritone and I had to work hard at being a tenor. How lucky my colleagues are, those who only have to open their mouths and have everything already in place. No, I always had to work at my singing.'

Aha, that explains it. After all, Domingo's motto is 'if I rest, I rust' and his constant need to work, to improve and to keep learning is legendary. If he had been born a natural tenor with all the notes easily in place, he'd probably have trained himself to be something else, just for the challenge. A quantum physicist, perhaps. Or a soprano.

Fortunately for music lovers everywhere that wasn't the case and he became the tenor we know and love - a tenor blessed with a dark, rich, heroic voice, clarion-clear top notes, a great stage technique, Herculean stamina and good looks to boot. He's had one of the longest and most varied singing careers in the history of opera, with 122 roles to his credit, and now also enjoys a parallel career as a conductor. In addition to this, he is the artistic* director of two major American opera companies. Last year this magazine hailed Domingo as the world's Number One tenor; now the Classical BRITs is celebrating him too, with their first-ever Classical BRITs Lifetime Achievement Award.

So there was plenty to talk about when I met Domingo in Vienna earlier this year. The first thing that you notice about him as he enters the room is his air of quiet authority. The second is his charm. My first question, for example, was about the Classical BRITs. Is he pleased to be receiving the award? 'I'm delighted. It's a great honour,' he purrs. And is he fan of ClassicFM Magazine, which plays a significant role in the ceremony? 'Of course. It's a very prestigious publication and the consideration it's shown to me is wonderful. I'm happy to get the recognition of experts, but I'm also happy that the general public is following what I do.' Ah, the legendary Domingo charm! I want to eat it up like chocolate.

Usually Lifetime Achievement awards are given when the recipient's achievements are firmly in the past, but that's certainly not the case here and during our talk Domingo is keen to stress the new roles and fresh challenges that lie ahead of him. Four days after the 65-year-old tenor receives his award, he sings the delightful but little-known opera Cyrano de Bergerac, by Franco Alfano, in its premiere at the Royal Opera House. A month later he'll be in Tokyo as Siegmund in Wagner's Die Walküre, the punishing role with which he made his sensational Proms debut last year. After that he performs in the zarzuela (Spanish operetta) Luisa Fernanda in Madrid. That's all combined with his operatic administrative duties and his conducting schedule. And, as if that wasn't enough, he also has a new disc of Neapolitan songs coming out, Italia, ti amo, for which he had to learn the difficult Neapolitan dialect. 'If I rest, I rust' indeed!

No signs of rust yet, at any rate. Domingo is looking beautifully well-groomed in an expensive dark suit and silk tie, and I can't help thinking he looks even fitter than when I last saw him. Has he lost weight? 'Yes, I have,' he says, not unpleased, I think, I've noticed. 'I've lost 20 pounds. And I'm working out, too.' Why? 'A singer has to be healthy. It's vital. So I decided I wanted to eat more carefully. And you shouldn't work your body too hard by being overweight. The only problem is, I have to buy an entire new wardrobe. At least now I can buy off the shelf - I don't have to get everything ordered.'

So resting on his laurels is not an option for the tenor; the Lifetime Achievement Award makes him want to look forward, not back. But over so long a career can he pick some highlights? 'What can I tell you? It's been 50 years of highlights. When you sing in a new venue for the first time, that's always a thrill. Maybe my first Otello in La Scala, with Mirella Freni and Carlos Kleiber conducting...that was certainly a highlight.' And is there a a reason his career has lasted so long? 'The most important thing is to have vocal and physical rest for every performance. Sometimes I have two or three days of total quietness before singing. And I keep healthy and try to eat well. It's as bad to have indigestion as to have a cold or sore throat.'

Does he ever think about retiring? 'Well, the years are passing and I know that one day I won't be singing any more. But when that happens I plan to dedicate my artistic time to conducting. And I still have two important jobs to do in the opera houses of Washington and Los Angeles.'

On the strength of his latest disc, Italia, ti amo**, the day he gives up singing is a long way off; Domingo is on superb form. Perhaps because the challenge of learning the Neapolitan dialect spurred him on. "The vowels are never clear in Neapolitan,' he says, so core ingrato ('ungrateful heart') should actually sound like "cowray ingraeatuwo". But more than that, you still have to present the deep, spontaneous, dramatic feeling of these songs, which are like mini operas. You cry because you're leaving Naples, you cry because you see Naples - you always have an excuse to make a little drama!' The disc also includes a song written by his son, Plácido Junior. 'He wrote it for my wife and I, for our 40th wedding anniversary - it's a very beautiful song, with a good melody. I'm so happy with it.'

He has every reason to be happy. A new disc coming out, more debuts to make, fresh challenges ahead...it sounds like Plácido Domingo's Lifetime Achievements are only just beginning.

written by Warwick Thompson in July's ClassicFM magazine

* General Director
** hmm, Parsifal and Edgar are more recent that Italia, ti amo

The New York Metropolitan Opera in Japan

Someone who is covering the role of the Marquis in La Traviata is blogging about his trip to Japan, which seems to me nice work if you can get it...! Meaningless ramblings

There has been a Press conference, and Wire Image has 132 photos of Joe Volpe, Christoph Eschenbach, Patrick Summers, Andrew Davis,  Debbie Voigt, Renee Fleming, and Erwin Schrott.

Oh, and some hunky (bearded, wedding-ring-wearing) tenor...

Classic FM Magazine

We're feeling a little smug* here. Back in March 2005 we named Plácido Domingo the world's greatest tenor and now this month, the good people at the Classical BRIT Awards have presented our hero with a Lifetime Achievement Award. As you'll read in our BRITs night report, he was genuinely overcome by the recognition and clearly feels a strong bond with the British public. It just makes you love the guy even more.

Inside, the interviewer just drools. And so would I...!

* But I thought smugness was Classic FM Corporate Policy, anyway. Or are they claiming they discovered him...?

Plácido in Copenhagen

(Note: link updated)
Those of you who don't read the 'recent comments' list will not have spotted a really rather fabulous video-clip that the wonderful Raffe has found. It's 14 minutes long, and features a couple of scenes of Pláci in the recent Die Walküre in Denmark, and an extended excerpt from a Press Conference.

Raffe's comment is here.

The clip can be viewed by scrolling down the page to where it says Se: Stjerneglimt: Placido Domingo i Danmark Update:: The url has changed; so has this link!

Meanwhile, we found out ages ago, but now I can read and understand it properly: Domingo Withdraws From Munich Parsifal

Now, if only I could find a way to save it to hard-drive...

Cold Turkey , Failed...

I decided I had spent too much of the past month obsessing over Plácido; I do intend to get back to proper blogging at some stage. I thought I would go cold turkey and I was very good for two and a half days. Then I put a CD on...

Two tracks in particular - one from Siegfried
There's a particular note 41 seconds into the track that has an effect upon me that I am too coy to explain here; although its impact is even more if you listen to the previous seven tracks, too.

And then there's the Tristan und Isolde climax. Oh dear, oh dear.

Files are available here

If you want to hear sound files, I need to approve you as a member of the mmofm Yahoo Group. I will.

Saying goodbye

After the final performance of Cyrano de Bergerac, I found myself irresistibly drawn to Floral Street for one last chance to say hello to Plácido...and bye - for now. He'll be back, in the autumn of next year, singing Siegmund in Die Walküre, as part of the Ring Cycle,  for which Ticket Acquisition Stress Syndrome (TASS) is already developing. I was not alone on Floral Street; to test out the setting on my camera, I took random shot into the crowd (which I have made deliberately fuzzy)

As you can see I didn't have a great view of the Stage Door, but at one point a woman emerged who looked remarkably like Angela Gheorghiu, and was greeted warmly by those of the crowd nearer to the door. She responded with friendly greetings in  a heavy accent that sounded like Angela Gheorghiu. So I expect it was her, as she opens as Tosca shortly, but I can't be certain.

Raffe was with me and has a different tale to tell, which she may care to share in the comments box once she is returned to and settled in the Frozen North (no pressure...!)

I did have to wait a long time, but, thankfully, the weather was remarkably dry. Eventually, it became clear that Plácido was doing what he did on Wednesday - sit behind the desk inside the Stage Door to sign autographs and so on, which is eminently sensible, as I said in regard to Wednesday. The security chap told us firmly to form an orderly queue on one side of the Stage Door, and because that was at the other side from where I was standing, I ended up near the back of the queue. Which is no bad thing, especially considering that the security man had emphasised that there was plenty of time, we would all get to see him.

Eventually my turn arrived, and I just asked him if I could take one last photo, and I thanked him for everything. What a wonderful performer! What a wonderful man! What a wonderful past few weeks! And I do rather like this photo!

That was not my only meeting with him yesterday.

Jimmy and I had gone into town fairly early and had braved the inclement weather to trudge up and down Neal Street searching for a new pair of shoes for me*. We then treated ourselves with a rather delicious and superbly Value For Money meal at Porters on Henrietta Street. I had white onion and cider soup, and the luxury seafood pie,  both  served attractively and hot in filling portions, and tasty, obviously made with excellent quality ingredients, in a pleasant and relaxed environment.

We made our way over to Floral Street; Jimmy decided that he would retire to the Nag's Head whilst I waited outside the Stage Door. I had calculated that as Plácido had previously arrived at ten past six for a half past seven performance, he would probably arrive at about twenty to six for a seven o'clock curtain. It was just about half past five when I took my position along Floral Street, closer to the Nag's Head than the Stage Door, hoping that the unexpected break in the unrelenting rain would last long enough.

And suddenly, there he was, magically appearing on Floral Street, looking as gorgeous as ever and greeting his fans as he walked along. He walked over to me, smiled at me and gazed into my eyes with a slight look of "You - again!" (but definitely not - oh no, not you again!) and shook my hand.

Having spent the previous two hours in a restaurant I was totally sloshed and thus I flung myself uncontrollably into his arms screaming "Take me,  I'm yours." 

Just kidding!

I was far from falling-over-slurring-my-words drunk, merely slightly lubricated to the point of shyness-and-inhibitions-slightly-relaxed.

As he turned away, tenderly I caressed his shoulder. He turned back to me;  in my best-disappointed-little-girl voice I said longingly "I'm going to miss you..." Once again, he gazed into my eyes and said "Me, too!", making my heart go boom-boom-boom. Of course he is a total  flirt, and also a total professional who treats all his fans with respect, but even knowing that,  it was such a delightful encounter, and I can safely say with no hesitation that he most certainly did not glare at me! Oh no! I will remember that moment for the rest of my life...although all I really remember is once again being startled at how gorgeous he is up close.

When he was inside the Stage Door I rushed to join Jimmy in the pub, simultaneously tossing a red wine down my throat, gabbling incoherently to Jimmy and frantically texting Faye, whose initial response was "What are you doing getting drunk at this time of day?"

At the very end of the day, when Plácido was seeing the last few fans inside the Stage Door,  a crowd was assembling outside Bertorelli's, probably to wave him goodbye. However, I had received a call from a somewhat angry Jimmy who had been forced to drink copious quantities of Hoegaarden in the White Lion - this time I had gone too far! (Diplomatically, I didn't do the 'oh, I held a gun to your head' gambit).  So I had to dash away to pacify him, and we had a tense journey back to Brixton. On the escalators at Brixton, I said "So, if he had walked past the pub when you were in there, or coming out, you would have assaulted him?"

To which Jimmy replied "Of course not. I wouldn't do that - and especially not to him. I respect him too much."

But I still had to pay! Later on, when Jimmy offered to go downstairs and get a replacement bulb for the bedside lamp, I vampishly said "When you return, how do you want me?" His reply "Preferably not snoring." And when he did return, and had replaced the light-bulb, I seductively said "Please undress me!" His response "If you can't even undress yourself, you're too far gone!" Ah, domestic bliss in Gert Cottage...

* I use to be a a great buyer and collector of shoes, but nowadays I almost need dragging into a shop to get some

Final performance of Cyrano de Bergerac

Something inside suggests that I shall never see this opera live again. So the past three weeks have been tremendous fun - or month if you go back to the Insight Evening just over a month ago. Before then I had never heard a note from the opera, last night I found myself, somewhat alarmingly, humming a tune from it.

Dress rehearsal included, yesterday was my fifth attendance, but my new acquaintances from Switzerland were there, too, so they're outdoing me!

I think I can conclude that I won't really be bothered if I never hear it again. And yet - that Final Act really is something special. It would be sad to think I may never hear it again, and, perhaps, to fully appreciate it, one has to accept the previous acts. I am very much of the view - which seems to be widespread - that it was worth going to Cyrano de Bergerac for Plácido Domingo's extraordinary portrayal. And I would certainly pay good money to hear him in this role again - but I wouldn't travel. And yet, I would pay better money to hear him in a host of other roles.

This evening I attended with Jimmy and we were sitting in the Lower Slips - the side extension of the Amphitheatre. Although this affords a Restricted View of the Stage and is not a prime location acoustically, it has certain benefits, not least being close to the stage. Additionally, I had lost my binoculars on the day of the Dress Rehearsal - possibly at Plácido's hotel - and Jimmy found me a superdouper replacement pair this week. Although they took a little getting used to, they are astonishingly powerful, and I took tremendous pleasure in keeping them focused on Plácido for an extended time, sometimes when he was singing and sometimes when he was just part of the scene, not directly participating.

That was a special treat, better than DVD. At times I could see the outline of the words he was writing in his letters to Roxanna - although, frustratingly, not the words. I could even see his finger nails. But much of the time I gazed on his face. Partly, of course, to gaze into his gorgeous eyes, despite the distortion of the presposterous prosthetic proboscis, but mainly to watch the subtle nuance of his facial expression, the way he reacts to what his happening around him even when ostensibly the focus isn't on him. I do so like the way he uses to face to act. This is visible as an overall effect from the amphitheatre but in the SuperZoom of splendid new binoculars it is fantastic to watch.

Sadly, the Lower Slips Right were not the best position from which to see that wonderful Final Act, but nevertheless, I was sobbing and sniffing at the raw emotion. I particularly observed his dying fall to the ground and I can't work out he does it. My ten-year old Nephew #1 attempted to demonstrate a couple of weeks ago and despite the impromptu unrehearsed nature was fairly impressive except for the tell-tale knee bend as he fell. I observed Plácido closely and could detect no bending of the knee. And it's fair to say that ten year olds are more natural at falling to the ground than adults with a stage career spanning nearly fifty years...

I originally wrote this post a few hours ago, but the my site was playing up and not saving changes, so I went away and did other things. As I lay in the bath I pondered the opening paragraph and realised that if I was given a choice - cast unknown - to see just one out of Cyrano de Bergerac, La Boheme, Turandot, and a few other mainstays of the repertoire, I think I would have to toss a coin between Cyrano and Aida.

More stalking!

There I was sitting minding my own business on the terrace at Covent Garden in the interval of Cyrano de Bergerac, when I was approached by a woman. I was going to say, who introduced herself, but she didn't! So I said, "So, who are you?" and she replied "I'm your correspondent from the Frozen North" - it was Raffe, who had arrived unannounced in London to see the King of LatinoPop in Cyrano. So we chatted and I said "If it's not raining after, maybe I'll see you at the Stage Door",  my logic being that if it was to be as raining heavily as it was during the interval, he wouldn't want to be lingering in the heavy rain.

But as I left the Opera House at the end, it was barely raining at all, and it occurred to me that the rain has been characterised by heavy downpour followed by extended, well, dampness. And as I walked down Floral Street (which is the quickest route to the Tube) I saw that there was quite a crowd outside the Stage Door - and inside, too. So I decided to linger. I then made a decision which was probably not the wisest decision I ever made - no umbrella. I had one in my bag, but I really don't like umbrellas. The trouble is, once they are wet, you are lumbered with them, wet and dripping over everything. I actually prefer kagoules, but I draw the line at wearing a kagoule in town. I'm digressing, aren't I...

I was joined by Raffe (who sensibly used an umbrella) and we proceeded to stand outside the Stage Door  for a very long time. Well, curtain down is officially 22.40 and it was after midnight when we got away. Much of the intervening time was spent chatting with some and observing other Domingo-fanatics. And believe me, I am not a fanatic. Not in comparison, anyway!

Part of the conversation was focused on whether Plácido would even come out through the Stage Door. Considering there was goodness knows how many people waiting, and it was cold, wet and windy, was it really fair to expect him to, and the last thing anybody wants is to force singers expose themselves to conditions that are harmful to the voice.

And then, somehow, we found ourselves inside the Stage Door and realised that he was behind the desk, signing autographs and so on. Which is far more sensible than being mobbed in the street in the rain. I took one photograph (another in the series of useless photos I have taken of Pláci...)

I was going to get another one when I got to the desk, but on the spur of the moment I decided I would ask him for his autograph. I am not a collector of autographs as a habit, and I have a belief that the only justifiable reason for asking for autographs is because it's a way of creating a conversation, somewhat less sycophantic than saying "I'm a massive fan I think you're wonderful." I'm not bothered by signed CDs or books, because the pleasure I get from them is the inherent product - the "intellectual property" or "intangible asset" rather than the actual object. And I don't need an autograph to prove to me that I have met a famous person. What matters are my memories. But I know I'm in a minority, and just because my view is right-ish for me, it doesn't mean it's right for other people. And it's not even a view I stick to dogmatically.

So I asked him to sign my programme;well, I don't think I even asked, I just presented it to him and he signed. I said "This was the fourth time I have been to Cyrano and I think it's growing on me." He looked at me as if he didn't have a clue what  I was saying, and I cursed my fondness for colloquial English, hastily rephrasing to something like "I'm getting to like it more. And the final act is wonderful!" As I emphasised 'wonderful', I looked into his eyes with passion - it wasn't an act it was the natural thing to do - and he looked into mine, with the most gorgeous look on his face, in his eyes, and with tenderness and passion, he said "I agree". And my heart was going boom-boom-boom, but you know, I wasn't trembly or stammering or blushing or anything like that which I am liable to. I will treasure my signed programme for ever, but even more will I treasure the memory of my brief chat with Plácido.

We paused for a few moments outside the Stage Door. I wanted to make sure that I had my camera safely back into my bag, having nursed it carefully under my jacket for the best part of an hour. And Plácido left, by car this time, and as he left, he waved to the group of people still on Floral Street.

Raffe and I walked down to the Strand and parted; I squelched along to Charing Cross, realising that I could deny no longer that my left shoe has a massive split across the sole, and my girlie Doc Martens desperately need replacing. I also realised that the flares of my over-long trousers were soaked through. I was cold, and physically miserable, although  inside I was warm and happy. By the time I got to Charing Cross, I decided that I was going to get a cab home. The driver asked me where I had been for the evening, so I explained that I had been to the Royal Opera House. As an afterthought I said "And I waited outside the Stage Door for an hour in the rain." (Taxi-drivers see all of human life, they're unlikely to be surprised by just moderately crazy behaviour).

"Who were you waiting for?" he asked.

"Plácido Domingo," I said.

"It must be good to hear a really great voice!" he said enthusiastically. "Have you heard him before?"

"Well, it was the fifth time this month!"

"So, you're his number one fan?"

I laughed. "I'd like to think so but there are people who travel all over the world to see him!"

"He's the best, isn't he?"  asked the driver.

"Oh yes!" I replied.

I should have gone straight to bed when I got home, but of course, I didn't. And when  I did I lay there shivering for about two hours. I decided that I had hypothermia, then remembered I don't have a clue about hypothermia, but suspecting I was actually suffering from 'devotion beyond the call of duty' - but it was worth it.  He's worth it!