Held my Post

I had written a discussion of Porgy and Bess, but I want to think about it before it goes out.    I did publish it for a few minutes, so if you received a copy, know I will revisit it when I have seen the production that is causing all the stir.    I was trying to bemore general but I fear I was less successful than I wanted to be.   So it will come back.    I'll post something in its place in a day or two.

Elation

      Well, if I'm going to complain about unadventurous musical things, I should praise something that was a huge risk which seems to be working out:  Stephen Sondheim's Follies (and James Goldman's book, of course, but NO ONE is going for his work.)    This is the giant show to end all giant shows.    Dozens of speaking /singing parts.    Huge score: 21 separate vocal numbers, a now famous opening instrumental prelude for the ghosts, a dance number not even written by Sondheim, and improvised background music that underscores most of the show.    And the 'big' numbers, written in the style of show music from the twenties to the forties, are sung (and occasionally danced) by older actors/singers, making it that much more difficult to cast.    And though it has humor, Follies is essentially a bleak view of the costs of aging on 'dreams'.   As almost anyone who is even remotedly familiar with the piece, the title has a double meaning.  
       The show was revived ten years ago to poor reviews, a huge loss of money, and a quick closing notice.    (I've seen a boot-leg copy shot from the balcony.    I was expecting a' miss' where things just didn't gel or were poorly directed or acted, etc.    To my shock, it was surprisingly well done.    No idea why the reviews were so mixed.)   So what's different now?
        Timing, for one thing.     Ten years ago, the country was on a high of conservatism.    This show is not family friendly: because it is about what happens when your family is grown or old or dead.    The Lion King is extremely family friendly.    It has a score people already know combined with great showmanship.   Nothing wrong with that.    The history of Broadway, hell, any performance-based art form, has been style and showmanship in tandem with smart writing.    Hooray for The Lion King!    But it is still style over (worthwhile) substance.    Follies is style alright, but combined with painful, thought-provoking, audacious, cynical, life-affirming while heart-breaking substance.    You leave feeling like you've seen one of the greatest works ever written.    Because you have.    Hamlet isn't happy either.   But in the Summer of 2001, no one wanted cynicism.     Cut to today.   Life is rife with cynicism.   People have been sitting for days in protest of Wall Street and what they believe it stands for.    Naturally, they are being used (more often in a hate-filled way) as a political sword, slashing away at the 'other' side, mostly ignoring what the protestors are actually saying.    The country is hurting, the bigots are out, and the large majority of us are frozen in fear or frustration.    So a show about reality crashing into your failed dreams seems like the news.     But with something humane at its center.    This aspect has been missed by (too) many critics of the piece, going all the way back to its original production.     It's easy to overlook: so much is happening and all through a fractured theatrical prism.  But 'life will go on' is the theme that lingers.    Life, imperfect though it may be,  has to.
     And casting.   Bernadette Peters is riding a wave of success from her amazing (I saw it) performance in A Little Night Music, the Sondheim show written just after Follies.    Believe me, if you didn't see it, you cannot fully understand why so many were telling people they would remember it for the rest of their lives.     The young opera singer sitting next to me said Peters' performance changed her life and how she would approach performing.    I doubt she was exaggerating.   And Peters had been in the original casts of Sunday In The Park With George and Into the Woods, classics now.   And she had sung the lead in a concert version of an early Sondhiem: Anyone Can Whistle.   And she gave a concert dedicated (mostly) to his music.   So Peters and another iconic Sondheim has its own appeal.   But the other three 'leads' are cast with great people, known and loved in New York.  
      And the production.     The producers have not skimped on the cast size or the orchestra or costumes or the other aspects that the production really needs.   It is not a carbon copy of some other production, but a fresh take on it.     The score really is as wonderful as any written.   Great number after great number.   Chances for good performers to show their stuff.   And this production seems to hit people the right way.    We may never witness its like again.    So go see it instead of the same old Boheme.    Or Lion King again.   Follies is a force for good--art that does not pander to the lowest common denominator.    So what that it will only be around until January?   That is enough.

Depression

 Back online after a long time of busy life and reflection on art-making in the "new" America--where neo-Nazis pose as 'concerned' citizens, real concerned citizens are denounced as 'un-American' by the same people (or their enablers), arts organizations drop like flies, funding vanishing, audiences vanishing, corporate funding for fewer and fewer (and almost always for things they know will be 'popular' not important--though this has always been the case for the most part), musuem-enbalmed 'musical performances' of the same repeating pattern: 75% war horses, 24% safe but under-played works, and 1% 'new' things, usually pale imitations of their betters.    Not that any of this is particularly new, but now it is almost all that is there.    Exceptions are indeed everywhere but they make up a dwindling minority, and even the 'new' is mostly older well-established musicians doing the same thing.    Yeah,yeah, yeah, I'm beating the same drum.    But I fear drums are banging in a ghetto chasm of re-runs.    And my heart just doesn't seem to be where it was.
         The Metropolitan Opera is a perfect storm of mediocrity right now.   The adventurous planning of a few years ago is back to business as usual.    The 'new' productions have little to offer, or like the Don Carlo, are left to dwindle into dullness.     Watching the televised presentation of last year's production, I felt a horrible sense of waste.    These were talented people walking through a masterpiece like automatons (I'd say zombies, but zombies would have been interesting.)   Any performance that makes Simon Keenleyside and Ferruccio Furlanetto look like amateurs has failed miserbly.    And the immediacy of the close-up view has been marred by poor choices.     I watched all the video productions and all of them had musically inept camera moves.     The sense of drama that was a hallmark of the first couple of seasons seems to have gone, vanished.    Well, it thrives in one or two cases, but mostly it's not there.     I watched some of the older ones to check to see if it was just my mood.   No, to a one that I own, the older were better.    How depressing!
       Sure, the Lucia with a one-of-a-kind Dessay was watchable, even with some really stupid filming, because Dessay--love her or hate her--will always be watchable.     How conventional Netrebko seems, comforting in her talented, 'tradtional' interpretation!    Yes, she is quite good, though the voice is getting harder, her notes are drooping into flatness, her 'emotional' treatments growing too predictable.    I still like her fine, but I don't love her.    Why?    There is much to enjoy, she never walks through anything like a robot, she sings with passion.     But it doesn't add up to gloriously wonderful to me.     I mean her no harm, nor disrespect.     She is a beautiful,talented woman.    But where is that spark of something different?    I haven't seen it.    Maybe that's what I miss.   And many of the reviewers vilified Dessay while over-comparing her to Netrebko.   No, Dessay is sui generis.    Netrebko is a very good, sometimes exciting musician.    And then there was Il Trovatore which was a debacle of enormous dimensions.
       At least Netrebko is offering something new with her Anna Bolena.    I think she will be a very good fit.    (I'll see.)    Otherwise, more of the same 'same''.     Does anyone really want to see Macbeth with those singers?   Or this Aida?    Or this Barbiere or Don Giovanni?   Nabucco?   Ernani?   (That seems particularly inapt right now.)   Sure, we have some great operas that are rarely done: Billy Budd, Makropulos Case, Khovanschina but James Morris is set to destroy Budd (God, someone shoot him so he will stop!), Makropulos is an ensemble work which have not been cast well lately, and Khovanshchina is loooong, cobbled together, flawed--though beautiful--work that is also an ensemble cast, but is tied to a weak libretto (maybe because it was never quite finished.)   And I fear for all of these.    If the Met can't make Don Carlo work, what chance does a Billy Budd have?     You need three amazing singer/actors and an inspired conductor.    The first half of these requirements is already not there.    And David Robertson is hit-or-miss.    Makropulos is here to showcase Mattila (which I'm all for) but it isn't a showcase kind of a role.    And the conductor is a mystery, so this could be great or awful.    At least there is some question.     You could not pay me to go sit through Aida.    Or Patricia Racette destroy Butterfly again to wildly idiotic ovations.     Why are people encouraging this once-fine singer to shriek her way through a role she never had any business singing?   Are they deaf?
      And the really terrible thing is: the Met is doing just fine as far as I know.    They have curtailed some 'big' productions to keep costs down, but other than that, all seems well.    With the New York City Opera all but dead, the smaller venues so far under the radar they might as well not be there (they might help themselves if they did more adventurous work) and the (wonderful) William Christie tours only here for very short periods, opera seems depressingly like it was.    I don't want like it was.   I want From the House of The Dead.    I want The Nose.    I want a marvelous Lulu not a polite, poorly cast one.   I want Renee Fleming to stop doing the same five roles.    I want a Henze opera, or a Birtwistle, or even a Gloriana to go with the Billy Budd.   I want something to transport me while the country falls apart around me.    I want art to remember.    And I'm only talking about opera in one particular house.    Beneath that?    Chaos.