The Standing Room

Photo Journal: SF Opera Opening Night Simulcast

Saturday night was the opening of the SF Opera summer season, with a production of Madama Butterfly with Patricia Racette as Cio-cio-san. It was also the first show under incoming General Director David Gockley, and the first live video simulcast of an opera on Civic Center Plaza. (UPDATE: Detailed broadcast history at Opera-L, courtesy of Janos Gereben.)

Since sfmike was on stage inside the opera house performing as a super, I figured I should cover the Civic Center beat in his absence. (UPDATE: My bad, he was out in the Plaza, blogging.)

It was a standard issue San Francisco night, windy and chilly. Who's going to want to sit on cold cement for 2 1/2 hours to watch an opera on Memorial Day weekend?, I thought.

Thousands, apparently.

The moneyed got chairs in a fenced off area...

...with free strawberries and what looked to be bins of Kirkland cookies from Costco.

The insipid Dianne Nicolini from KDFC played hostess, intoning in her saccharine way how beautiful the porta-potties looked and what a great audience we were. I don't know how everything that comes out of her mouth can sound like a QVC Flowbee pitch.

There was a pre-performance video intro to Madama Butterfly...

...and before each act there was a synopsis with a voice-over. (Note to SF Opera video production staff: you need me to do your voice-overs! Inaworld... where Japanese women speak Italian...)

There were some introductory remarks by David Gockley, including the announcement that the center supertitles are back (yielding much applause) and a request for people to write to Titles (at) SFOpera (dot) com with their reactions. I will write in to plead that they find a way to keep the supertitles visible to standees, of course.

And... Curtains up!

OMC and I were already freezing and quite hungry, so we headed off to Mangosteen to get a bowl of pho while waiting out the first act (Whisky whisky blah blah blah). We timed our return for the end of intermission, fully expecting the crowd to be clearing out, fleeing to warmer temperatures.

Wrong again: the plaza remained packed as people were lined up to refresh their coffee at the food stands by the red lanterns lining the walkways. We decided to stay through Un bel dì, loosely translated as "One fine day, he's gonna want me for his girl (shoobee doobeedoo wahwah)."

It occurred to me that this is the second time in a row I've heard Patricia Racette play an Italian-speaking Asian woman who kills herself.

"Non piangere, Suzuki"

The sound was surprisingly clear, without distortion, and the echoes off the surrounding buildings proved to be an enhancement if you were towards the front.  The video was shot with four cameras and artfully done; it was generally well lit and well produced, with appropriate angles and none of that amateurish come-back-here-little-actor camera work that I sort of expected. (I'll reserve any comments about the performance till after I've heard the full production in the house, but Un bel dì was very fine, and worth the trip.)

So congratulations to SF Opera for pulling it off! Next time, might I suggest a Sunday matinee? It gets damn cold here at night.

In homage to the intrepid sfmike, who takes much better photos

Cretins Only Need Apply

It's been a while since we've had a good parking story on TSR, but this one's got the bile churning again.

Tables turn on cheating Boston ticket writer
By Donovan Slack, Globe Staff | May 26, 2006

It's been said that guardians make the best thieves, but consider this one.

A city parking-ticket writer, one of the blue-jacketed officers sworn to uphold Boston's parking rules, according to city officials, last week discovered a ticket on her car, a citation for parking in a resident-parking zone without a sticker.

The officer marched into work the next day, ticket in hand, and told her boss that she, in fact, had a resident sticker and wanted the ticket cleared.

Her supervisor went outside to have a look. Sure enough, there was the sticker, properly mounted in the right rear window of the officer's car. But it didn't look right. It was severely faded, and when the supervisor ran the sticker's serial number through city computers, it drew up someone else's name. A disciplinary hearing was called.

Confronted by officials at the hearing on Tuesday, the officer—whose name was not released—began to confess. After originally saying she'd found the sticker in the street, city officials said, she told her questioners that she actually procured it from someone outsidean East Boston laundromat who asked, "Do you want to buy a hot sticker?"

The officer has been suspended without pay for five days and faces possible termination, pending an investigation.

Muito obrigado, Senhor R—

30 Years in 2 Hours

Some days ago a little treat appeared in the mailbox, in the form of a DVD of 30 Years of Live from Lincoln Center, which will be broadcast Thursday night. After just a cursory scan of the enclosed playlist while standing in the post office lobby, I scurried on home and immediately gathered OMC and a bottle of wine in front of the telly.

What an unadulterated pleasure it was to see Pavarotti pre-World Cup, pre-Meatloaf. Hot damn. He opens and closes the show, with E lucevan le stelle and Nessun dorma from a 1980 broadcast, and it's almost shocking to be reminded of how youthful he appeared a quarter-century (!!) ago. Just before he launches into the Vincerò sequence, there's this wonderful moment when a simple, joyful smile flashes across his face—and suddenly you forget that he ever recorded O sole mio with Bryan Adams.

And how utterly charming is this?

Kudos to the selection team for including the complete performance of Marilyn Horne's 1979 Mon cœur s'ouvre à ta voix, which alone is worth setting the TiVo for. Likewise, the excerpt from the 1977 Baryshnikov Giselle is heartstoppingly beautiful—I am no balletomane, but this is some outrageous dancing.

Sadly, there's no room for Dame Joan or Jessye in the program, since each of the resident organizations is necessarily allotted some time in the spotlight. As a result, the pianists also get comparatively shafted by being lumped into a montage segment that awkwardly stitches together 8 piano concertos and 11 pianists (12 if you include Schroeder, which clearly I don't). You get a sense there's so much there and yet experience very little. I would have been happy just with some Gilels.

What I could have used less of was Katie Couric's weirdly self-indulgent Vissi d'arte:

(Why exactly is she so cheery singing Vissi d'arte anyway?)

And while I'm being catty, what the hell has happened to James Galway's tone?!? When I was a budding flutist (be grateful you didn't know me as a child), I respected Rampal for his clarity but adored Galway for that gorgeous, viscous tone. I remember sitting in front of my record player listening to his recording of the Chaminade Concertino (I'm serious, be really grateful) and marveling at the sound. In the 2004 clip included in this program, his fingers aren't even hitting the keys right, he's cracking, his upper register is all tight, the sound is unfocused, and he's playing friggin "Danny Boy." Sigh.

But all bitchery aside, carve out some time for this tonight because the good nuggets are exceptional. I've watched it twice already, and OMC rather uncharacteristically keeps singing "Send in the Clowns."

Partial program here (scroll down). Martin Bookspan's notes here. List of all Live from Lincoln Center telecasts from the past 30 years here.

Plus, a special hidden bonus track for Dinobass in the second part of this post.

Jim Denevan

"My movement has a present." —Jim Denevan (video)

for ACB

The Three...

One guess what voice type they are.

From PBS's 30 Years of Live from Lincoln Center, airing Thursday night

The Me! Me! Meme

Listening to that Magnetic Fields album put me in a navel-gazing mood, so here's my go at the Me! Me! Meme:

• I am past the age where I can eat whatever I want without consequence.

• I am not a lyric baritone, no matter how much I wish I could sing Pierrot's Tanzlied like Thomas Hampson.

• I want to be a Tuvan throat singer! That, I know I could do if I just put my mind to it. (GRRRRRRR ^{oooo eeeee oooo})

• I wish there were even one restaurant in San Francisco that could make a proper soup dumpling. (I am willing to entertain recommendations.)

• I hate—HATE!—Parking Control Officers.

• I love hearing, seeing, tasting, smelling, feeling, experiencing things I haven't encountered before.

• I miss singing.

• I fear the loss of naïveté and wonderment.

• I hear as much as I can, with open ears and without prejudgment.

• I wonder if Muni will ever become a functional public transit system.

• I regret things sometimes, but really, it's not worth my time. Much better to stay in the present, I say.

• I dance like a gay guy, and only in conjunction with alcohol.

• I sing far better than I am used to giving myself credit for.

• I cry out, "Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?", but only when I'm playing Jesus in a Passion.

• I am not always thinking neck free, but I sure feel better when I do.

• I make with my hands tight little fists with my thumbs extended at right angles when I'm in an uncomfortable performing situation.

• I write with a Namiki Vanishing Point (fine) or a Mont Blanc Bohème (medium)—I loves me some retractable nibs.

• I confuse Mickey Rourke and Mickey Rooney.

• I need very little.

• I should pay my check now; they're giving me looks.

• I start in the electronica used CD bins at Amoeba, work towards classical in the back, and come back up the other side to end up in bluegrass.

• I finish bottles of Hendrick's with increasing and alarming frequency.

• I tag with Krylon because they have the best color selection.

Noteworthy

Maybe we should we start checking baritones for bacne.

Via SF Performances' 06/07 season brochure, which includes Christopher Maltman's 4/29 concert at Herbst. One hopes his breathing will not be restricted by his wardrobe.

Googlers of the Week

Monday:
john adams composer tedious
Now, now.

Tuesday:
john adams tedious composer
Yes, you made your point yesterday.

Wednesday:
john adams tedious music composer
OK, who's the tedious one now?

ewa poodles
Hey, that's my joke!

nathan gunn gay
Sorry.

sherrill milnes gay
(Really?)

And my fave, from someone at Juilliard:

michael jordan merkin concert hall decasia

In Rotation: March 2006

Click here for background on the In Rotation list.

Notables, in brief ... Vivica Genaux's Italian Girl last fall in SF was a fabulously entertaining show of virtuosity, despite her very, very weird jaw and eyeball-rolling tics (which I hope are only noticeable through binocs) ... my Jamie Lidell obsession enters into its sixth month ... Giuseppe De Luca's Provenza? holy Moses ... whenever I listen to Akiko Yano's Someday, it becomes one of those I-have-to-keep-hitting-repeat every day for a week earworms ... same with Stevie's Sir Duke (I can hear those horns already) ... Robert Merrill singing "Some Enchanted Evening" on that Anna Moffo Firestone program was suh-weet, what a sound ... I still maintain that if you just put a headband on her, she could be a cover for Monica Groop.

Akiko Yano: Super Folk Song	Kaija Saariaho: L'Amour de Loin	Richard Goode: Bach, Partitas Nos. 2, 4, 5	Andre Gavrilov: Bach, The French Suites	Jamie Lidell: Multiply

Omara Portuondo: Flor de Amor	RCA/MET 100 Singers, 100 Years: Disc 1 ('00s, '10s)	Vlado Perlemuter: Ravel, Piano Works (Disc 1)	Tosca: J.A.C.	Jackson & His Computer Band: Smash

Voice of Firestone: Anna Moffo in Opera and Song	RCA/MET 100 Singers, 100 Years: Disc 2 ('10s, '20s)	Karita Mattila: Arias & Scenes	Stevie Wonder: Songs in the Key of Life	Cafe Tacuba: Vale Callampa

Louis Andriessen: De Staat	Steve Reich: Tehillim	Steve Reich: Tehillim, 3 Movements	Terry Riley: In C (25th Anniversary Concert)	Arvo Pärt: Tabula Rasa, Fratres, Sym. 3

Kremer, Kremerata Baltica: Silencio (Pärt, Glass, Martynov)	Koyaanisqatsi	Theatre of Voices/ Hillier: De Profundis (Pärt)	Steve Reich: The Four Sections/ Music for Mallet Insts., Voices & Organ	Judy Garland: Judy at Carnegie Hall

Nathan Milstein: Bach, Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin	Vivica Genaux: Bel Canto Arias

In Rotation: February 2006

Click here for background on the In Rotation list.

I never know if anyone cares to look at these In Rotation posts, but in any case I enjoy the process of putting them together, which forces me to take a few minutes to think back on the recordings that keep moving, inexorably, through my CD player.

Seeing the Jan De Gaetani recording below reminds me of a performance that eighth blackbird gave in San Francisco in February. It was part of SF State's Morrison Artists Series, a Sunday afternoon free chamber music series in the weirdly unattractive and utilitarian McKenna Theater in the far southwestern corner of the city. The program was Jacob Druckman's Reflections on the Nature of Water for solo marimba on the first half, and Pierrot Lunaire after halftime. The blackbirds were joined by puppeteers from Blair Thomas and Company for both pieces, and soprano Lucy Shelton for Pierrot.

Have you checked out the Sunday afternoon free music circuit lately? Because I hadn't. If I had, I wouldn't have been quite so surprised at how many 85-year-olds there are who want to hear Schoenberg performed with puppets. It was a strange mix, the New Music crowd (with their strangely shaped eyewear) scattered amongst the Free Music crowd (with their aisle-obstructing walkers).

So y'all know how fond I am of the 'birds, right? Wonderful musicians, tight ensemble,  virtuosic performers. Plus puppets! Puppets are totally the new black; thank you, Julie Taymor. What's not to love about puppets? Plus free! What's not to love about free? I was pretty pumped to enjoy the show.

First half starts promisingly. Matt Duvall emerges wearing only a flowy pair of pants, hair shorn. OK, I can dig it. Free Music crowd murmurs; clearly this is not the chamber music concert they were expecting. He launches into the Druckman. I've always enjoyed watching Matt Duvall perform, because the "play" aspect of playing is so apparent in his movement, no matter how focused his intent. But then... there are the puppets suspended behind him, who begin to act out a narrative about swimming and drowning. And 20 minutes later, I realize I've barely been paying attention to either Druckman's music or Duvall's playing (or his torso, for that matter), and I've instead been derailed by a puppet show.

Halftime comes, and I struggle the whole time with whether I should run back to the garage to add some money to the pre-paid parking ticket. A certain segment of the audience runs out after the Druckman, albeit slowly.

Pierrot begins. Now, before I say anything else, I think we should all give a standing ovation right now to the 'birds and Lucy Shelton for having the gumption and the commitment to perform Pierrot Lunaire memorized, in terribly uncomfortable-looking costumes and white make-up, and with staging. Memorized! You are my heroes.

But thank God I spent some time reacquainting myself with the music and the score and the poetry beforehand, because I wouldn't have had a clue what the fuck was going on up there otherwise. The reason for creating a theatrical context for the piece, from my perspective, would be to illuminate the original work in a new way. It has to add, rather than detract. But instead I found myself straining to read the essentially illegible hand-painted poem translations which were occasionally unfurled on large sheets of cloth; or wondering, is this the movement about the pipe made out of Cassander's skull?; or thinking, I sure am glad they didn't make Matt paint himself all white for his piece.

But like I said, great playing. Totally admirable. Some of the production was appropriately dramatic. The lifesized Pierrot puppet was at times both interesting and creepy. As a whole, though, I feel like maybe I left more confused than I would have had I gone to a straightforward concert performance.

That's my little memory for the day. Back now to February's In Rotation post. In rotation right now is Osvaldo Golijov's Ainadamar, released yesterday. I've already listened to it thrice through today.

NY Baroque: Salamone Rossi, The Songs of Solomon, Vol. 1	Madonna: Confessions on a Dance Floor	Konono No. 1: Congotronics	People Like Us, Wobbly, Matmos: Wide Open Spaces	Gorillaz

Birgit Nilsson: Opera Arias	Behrens, Van Dam/ HvK: Salome (Strauss)	Borkh, Reiner, CSO: Scenes from Salome and Elektra	Nilsson/ Solti: Salome (Strauss)	John Legend: Get Lifted

Robbie Williams: Intensive Care	Black-Eyed Peas: Monkey Business	Antony & the Johnsons: I am a Bird Now	LCD Soundsystem	Beck: Guero

Chemical Brothers: Push the Button	Kanye West: The College Dropout	Alison Krauss & Union Station: Lonely Runs Both Ways	Alison Krauss: Now That I've Found You	Thomas Quasthoff: Bach Cantatas

Jan DeGaetani, Contemp. Chamber Ens.: Pierrot lunaire (Schoenberg)	Jean-Yves Thibaudet: Ravel, L'oeuvre pour piano seul	Meredith Monk: Mercy	Meredith Monk: Dolmen Music	Meredith Monk: Songs from the Hill, Tablet

Meredith Monk: Our Lady of Late	Philip Glass: Koyaanisqatsi	Philip Glass: Powaqqatsi	Philip Glass: Naqoyqatsi	Gerald Finley: A Song - For Anything / Songs by Charles Ives

Matmos: A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure	Jamie Lidell: Muddlin Gear	Ezekiel Honig: People Places & Things	Rufus Wainwright	Rufus Wainwright: Poses