Chicago Lyric Subscriber Appreciation Concert

I had been looking forward to this concert for as long as it was announced. We don’t often get superstars at the Chicago Lyric, so it was super exciting that we would see not just Renee Fleming, but Dimitri Hvorostovsky (opera’s Richard Gere) as well!

It was a fun evening all in all, but I thought it was pretty stingy of them to end with just one encore duet… I was hoping for and expecting at least 3! Haha. To be honest, I enjoyed Dimitri’s arias far more than Renee’s, perhaps because I’ve never heard him sing live before (and his loose black silk shirt and tight black dress pants didn’t hurt either). I thought his Rigoletto aria was heartrending, so palpable was the grief and rage at the Duke and his courtiers. And his gorgeously sung Tannhauser aria elicited spontaneous and fervent applause and yells.

Chicago Classical Review’s take on the event:

A night for stars and tributes at the Lyric Opera’s annual concert

Sun Jan 08, 2012 at 1:23 pm
By Lawrence A. Johnson

Creative consultant. Board member. Curator of new operas. Omnipresent poster visage and relentlessly promoted company public figure. About the only role Renée Fleming hasn’t taken on at the Lyric Opera of Chicago since her 2010 administrative appointment is that of singer.

Saturday night at the Civic Opera House, Fleming fulfilled that assignment in the Lyric Opera’s subscriber appreciation concert with Dmitri Hvorostovsky, an event that also paid tribute to William Mason who retired as the company’s general director last August.

Following intermission Mason was feted in an onstage ceremony in which he was presented with the company’s Carol Fox Award and it was announced that a Lyric rehearsal room would be named in his honor. His successor Anthony Freud, music director Sir Andrew Davis, former board president Edgar D. Jannotta and Bruno Bartoletti, artistic director emeritus, all paid tribute to Mason in concise yet heartfelt remarks. Whatever one thinks about the artistic side of Mason’s tenure, the 70-year-old administrator is a modest man and, after brief grateful comments, seemed happy to yield the stage to the evening’s star guests.

As is inevitable with gala-style programs, Saturday’s performances proved rather hit and miss, more often centering on solid and sturdy rather than deep or distinctive.

Both singers’ voices are still in estimable shape, though it was hard to avoid noting inevitable changes with the passage of time. Hvorostovsky’s aristocratic baritone remains imposing though somewhat dryer on top while Fleming’s resplendent soprano seems to have slimmed down markedly and lost some of its amplitude and luster.

Still, as a bonus for Lyric Opera subscribers, it’s likely that few in the capacity house went home disappointed with a gratis opportunity to hear two of the world’s most celebrated and glamorous singers.

The duo’s four items together were a mixed bag. The extended Act One scene and duet from Simon Boccanegra proved rather low-voltage, having little of the dramatic fervor that the Russian baritone has brought to this favorite Verdi role on stage. The Act 4 duet from Il Trovatore saw Hvorostovsky more in command as a fiery Count di Luna while Fleming’s miscast, lightly projected Leonora was less on point with a perilous final note. The two duetted scenes from Massenet’s Thaïs and Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin were more successful, with both artists singing in more polished fashion and bringing a greater degree of dramatic frisson and expressive detail to roles they have taken on stage. The encore of the Merry Widow waltz duet was pleasant if predictable.

No one does the melancholy nostalgia thing better than Fleming, and the soprano was heard to best advantage as Thaïs — a role she sang at Lyric in 2003 — and in Io son I’umile ancella from Cilea’s Adriana Lecouvreur, affectingly rendered with the requisite subsumed heartache.

Individually, Hvorostovsky received the most vociferous applause of the two stars Saturday — partly due to taking the vocal honors and perhaps partly his appeal to women patrons of a certain vintage, with the snow-haired Siberian swain clad in his patented open-neck black silk shirt and tight black pants. “Who is he supposed to be, Johnny Cash?” asked one female skeptic in the audience.

Hvorostovsky’s generalized performance of the Cortigiani from Rigoletto felt emailed in, conveying little of the bitter hunchback’s malign hatred. The Russian baritone was at his best, however, in Wolfram’s Song to the Evening Star from Tannhäuser, sung with a burnished glowing tone and seamless legato.

The most consistent element of the evening was the vital and elegant performances of the Lyric Opera Orchestra under Sir Andrew Davis, both in backing the soloists and in the spotlight with assorted non-vocal filler by Verdi, Berlioz and Rossini/Respighi.

Perhaps it was telling that Fleming’s finest moment came in Give me some music, the first-act aria from Samuel Barber’s Antony and Cleopatra. Created for Leonytne Price, this heavy role is not one Fleming would ever tackle on stage, yet the soprano delivered a layered, inner and deeply felt performance.

Let’s hope that in the coming Freud-Fleming era, we are given more music, and that at least some of it marks the return of American opera to the Lyric stage.

Rodelinda at the Met

Jeff was a little hesitant when I told him we were going to watch a Handel opera. The last time we caught his Hercules at the Lyric, we left at intermission, bored senseless by the endless repetition and glacial moving plot. We’d better order coffee, he said worriedly, when we placed our dessert orders at Cafe Boulud.

But we needn’t have worried much. As expected, there was a ton of reiterations of sentiments. But the story line was tight and moved along at a good pace. We wished there was more than one duet though – it was lovely hearing the blending of the voices of the soprano and countertenor in Io t’Abbraccio. I guess duets (and trios and quartets and choruses) are a rare thing in Baroque opera. It’s definitely interesting to see the development of the operatic styles through the ages. In Rodelinda, all actions completely grind to a stop while the character sings his/her aria vs. in Wagner’s operas where the music is conceived as a “continuous melody” and the arias drive the story along.

That evening we caught the opera, the Lyric released an announcement stating that it had appointed Renee Fleming’s personal manager into the newly created position of Director of Public Relations. My initial reaction – she’s not secure enough as Creative Director? Or is she trying to maneuver her way into the top job at the Lyric? She definitely has a ton of influence, not only at the Lyric, but at the Met, where she convinced the company to produce the Rodelinda opera for her back in 2004. The opera is not that much a soprano showcase however – all characters had long and demanding parts.

We had a solid cast to watch that evening. We greatly enjoyed Fleming’s singing, especially in the duet aria with tenor Joseph Kaiser. Stephanie Blythe, with her powerful voice, is always a delight to listen to. The two countertenors were great too, and we were very impressed with Iestyn Davies – his voice seemed stronger at times than Andreas Scholl. The Classical Review has a great review here.

Oh, and I love, love, love the seats at the Met. I’ve only been there two other times before. The first, I bought a standing ticket to the double bill, Rusticana and Pagliacci; the second, I had orchestra-level seats at the back. This time, we bought tickets in the front center of the family circle, and had excellent views. The seats were spaced generously apart, so we didn’t have to squash our knees into the backs of the seats in front of us, nor had to lean forward to peer over the heads of the people in front of us. I’ve greatly enjoyed watching the close-up live in HD performances at the Met, but it’s something special to sit and take in the entire wide stage at a glance. Oh for another weekend trip to catch another opera live!

Counting down to the Big Apple

I haven’t visited New York yet this year. And since Jeff wanted to go back one more time before the year ran out, I decided to tag along. Especially since I found out that Alan Rickman will be performing in the new Broadway play, Seminar. And we’ve tickets to the opera in the evening too, to see Renee Fleming perform in Handel’s Rodelinda. To round it off, I’ve signed up for a flying class at the indoor trapeze rig on Sunday before I head back to Chicago. Wahaha. Totally worth skipping out on the company holiday party for!

Renee Fleming Subscriber Appreciation Concert

When we woke up this morning, we could hear the winds through the glass panes. Peering out, the world was awash in white. Snow was gusting horizontally against the windows, and blanketing the roads, the cars in a thick layer of white.

Kayla, who was supposed to fly out in the pm, quickly jumped out of bed to check her phone. Her flight had been cancelled. She tried to call the airline, but of course there was an over an hour wait to talk to some living person. Eventually, she got through and was told, by some southern dude to just settle back down in bed with the sheets pulled up to her chin, because she wasn’t gonna go anywhere until Tuesday morning.

It looked scary out, and my apartment was nice and cosy, but I had been looking forward to Renee Fleming’s concert for months now. So in the afternoon, Chuck came by and we made the slow, treacherous drive down to the opera house. Pity the die-hard Bears and Patriot fans who were to watch the football game in the open stadium.

Anyway, I loved, loved, loved the concert! I am absolutely pumped when I saw the line up of arias, which included Rusalka’s Song to the Moon. Her voice was breathtakingly beautiful. More than a few times, I found myself perched forward at the edge of my seat, holding my breath just to listen to her draw out the last high notes.

At the end, after the official program ended, several people in the rows in front of me started to take their leave. But we remained rooted. She’d have to have her three encores. She did, of course. I actually let out of mini shriek of excitement when she said she was going to perform O Mio Babbino Caro. And then she sang Hallelujah from her dark rock album.

One of my best concert experiences ever.

Review by Chicago Classical Review:

Fleming charms Lyric Opera audience with music from her past and future

Sun Dec 12, 2010 at 10:05 pm
By Lawrence A. Johnson

With all the heavily orchestrated media hoopla last week over Renée Fleming’s appointment as creative consultant to the Lyric Opera, the fact that she was also actually going to sing here was in danger of getting lost in the shuffle.

Billed as a Subscriber Appreciation Concert, Sunday’s matinee gala undoubtedly pleased the many season subscribers who braved the day’s wintry blast to hear the celebrated soprano, backed by Sir Andrew Davis and the Lyric Opera Orchestra

The populist program had little that would frighten the repertorial equines. Mostly, the afternoon amounted to a snapshot of Fleming’s Lyric roles, both past (Desdemona, Thais) and future (Blanche DuBois) with a couple offbeat items to spice the stew.

In addition to her beauty and charisma, Fleming is the down-to-earth diva with her self-effacing stage persona and wry sense of humor, evident in her spoken introductions.

Sunday’s concert didn’t offer much of the unbridled dramatic impact Fleming can bring to the opera stage on her best nights, but it did contain much beautiful singing and a chance to revel in her refulgent voice.

The soprano leapt into the deep end of the pool by opening with Desdemona’s Willow Song and Ave Maria from Verdi’s Otello, which she performed in Chicago a decade ago. And while sung with rich tone and feeling—the prayer especially affecting—Fleming seemed not yet warmed up with a want of emotion to the doomed girl’s desperate outburst.

She brought a sensitivity and touching regret to Thais’s Act 2 aria reflecting on the fading of her beauty—clearly something this soprano need not have any concerns about.

Four Last Songs

The sky was overcast, matching my mood. The concert was due to start at 730pm, but at 715pm, we were still muddling around in Evanston, looking for somewhere where we could print our tickets. Finally, at 720pm, frustrated, I said to just go over to Ravinia anyway, and show the ticket checkers our tickets on the iPhone. Too bad there isn’t yet a function that allows check-in over Smartphones; certainly would have saved a lot of paper.

Finally, at 745pm, we pulled into the lot. We could hear the music already playing in the park as we marched in (Will Call printed our tickets). We found seats at the edge of the grass, and quickly settled down with our wine and sandwiches.

Chuck, Jeff, and I were at Ravinia for Christoph Eschenbach’s concert, starring Renee Fleming. The CSO and pianist Tzimon Barto were playing, but in all reality, we were there to listen to Renee Fleming (and apparently, so were most of the others on the lawn). So my irritation was mostly gone when we found that she hadn’t yet come on.

She was slated to come on after the intermission. Not satisfied with the view of the video screen from my lawn seat, I wormed my way to the front of the lawn where the open-air auditorium was, joining dozens of other Fleming fans who were eager to catch a glimpse of the star. As we waited, a handful of people behind me kept on gushing about her. “OMG, I’m so excited I can feel my heart beating wildly,” breathed one, while his friend wondered, “Is she going to wear a white gown? It’s summer, so she should wear something light.” “Maybe fuchsia,” another speculated. The first guy predicted, “Nah, she’s gonna wear a beautiful red gown. I just know it. I’ll bet you $10.” At that, the lights on stage dimmed and everyone went wild. The guy behind me went nuts; Renee Fleming strode onto stage in a strapless red gown.

The entire concert was about 2 hours long, but Renee Fleming was on stage maybe for 40 minutes of it. We soaked up every minute of her performance of Strauss’ Four Last Songs.

The Chicago Classical Review:

Rain threatened, but the onstage star power—in the person of American soprano Renee Fleming—was dazzling. So it was no surprise that the Ravinia Festival’s pavilion was nearly full and its damp lawns well-peppered with picnickers for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra’s concert Saturday night.

But the evening offered more than a superstar soprano reprising some of her signature repertoire (Richard Strauss’ Four Last Songs.) The wide-ranging concert also celebrated two major anniversaries: the 70th birthday year of Christoph Eschenbach, Ravinia’s music director from 1994 to 2003, and the 200th anniversary of the birth of Robert Schumann.

During his long career Eschenbach has been a mentor for many artists, among them Fleming, who sang her first operatic roles under Eschenbach’s baton two decades ago. Another former Eschenbach protégé, pianist Tzimon Barto, was on hand Saturday night, as soloist in two works by Schumann for piano and orchestra: Introduction and Allegro appassionato in G Major, Op. 92, and Concert-Allegro with Introduction in D Minor/Major, Op. 134. The concert opened with the CSO’s horn section as solo ensemble in Schumann’s Konzertstück in F Major, Op. 86.

The Schumann repertoire was well-chosen, a bracing mix of the familiar and the relatively obscure. (Both Schumann piano works were receiving their Ravinia premieres.) The Konzertstück is a famous showcase for horn players, and the CSO solo quintet—Principal Dale Clevenger, Associate Principal Daniel Gingrich, James Smelser, David Griffin and Oto Carrillo—played it with zest and high spirits. Justly fabled over the years for its precision and expressive phrasing, the CSO’s horn section has hit some high-profile rough patches during performances this past season. But the ensemble’s golden, mellow tone was nicely blended Saturday night and bobbles were virtually non-existent.

Ravinia had planned a four-concert celebration for Eschenbach’s 70th birthday year, but tendonitis kept him from appearing as pianist in programs on Thursday and Friday. On the podium Saturday night, however, he offered all the poetry and drama that audiences remember from his tenure as Ravinia’s music director.

Schumann is especially close to Eschenbach’s heart, and he and Barto were sympathetic colleagues in both Schumann pieces for piano and orchestra. In the Introduction and Allegro-appassionato, Barto’s limpid, introspective opening phrases unfolded gently, stirring up responses from solo horn and oboe that floated overhead like wispy clouds. In the more overly virtuosic Concert-Allegro, Barto’s octave runs were fierce and crisp, and he brought a rapt, rhapsodic quality to the extended cadenza. But the interplay between soloist and orchestra during the piece’s abrupt mood shifts was smooth and spontaneous.

Fleming and Eschenbach have been frequent partners in the Four Last Songs, recording the Strauss cycle together in Houston, and their performance Saturday had the relaxed quality of two colleagues who know each other well. Fleming’s voice has lost some of its creamy edge, but she floated Strauss’ long, plaint lines with easy grace and a bright, rich tone. She was most impassioned in the two encores: Strauss’ Cacilie and Marietta’s Lied from Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s Die tote Stadt. In the Strauss, appealing to an absent lover, she was as ardent as a love-obsessed teen-ager. Only a fool would decline such a beguiling invitation.

Armida

It was fun catching Armida, the never-before seen Rossini opera at the Met which we actually watched in the comfort of AMC River East theatre in Chicago. The opera, this premiere production by Mary Zimmerman which was specifically designed with Renee Fleming in mind, is rarely staged worldwide, in large part because it requires not two, but six bel canto tenors. Just imagine the casting nightmare! But, it was fun being able to watch and listen to all these tenors at the same time, and compare their voices against Fleming’s deliciously creamy voice.

I say, huge props to Met director Peter Gelb for going out on a limb and taking on all these risky new productions: Hamlet, Armida, etc. Rather than stick to the tried and true productions (which are still super enjoyable, don’t get me wrong), Gelb has been shown willing to push his audience out of their comfort zone. I guess he’s also trying to showcase these more avant-garde stuff concurrently with his strategy of reaching out to a broader – and hopefully younger – audience via live streaming in theatres throughout the world. It may be too early yet to tell if his vision succeeds, but I do certainly hope so. Not only have I been able to catch so many operas this season – and rarely performed productions at that – I have been able to enjoy them at really inexpensive prices. And it’s super fun to watch the shows in a movie theatre where I can break out my glasses of wine and cheese, rather than having to sit straight back next to a dolled up crotchety old lady in white fur (well I am still surrounded by these old ladies in the movie theatre, but at least they’re not wearing fur).

The review of Armida by the NYTimes:

A Crusade of Seduction and Sorcery

By ANTHONY TOMMASINI
Published: April 13, 2010
Renée Fleming has always made very particular and personal choices of operatic roles. Over the years, the managers of the Metropolitan Opera, fully appreciative of Ms. Fleming’s vocal artistry and star power, have been ready to accommodate her. The company has mounted house premiere productions of three strikingly diverse operas — Carlisle Floyd’s “Susannah,” Bellini’s “Pirata” and Handel’s “Rodelinda” — specifically for Ms. Fleming.

Lawrence Brownlee as Rinaldo, who is ensnared by Armida, whom he later abandons. More Photos >
On Monday night the Met obliged Ms. Fleming with another house premiere, Rossini’s “Armida,” in a fanciful production by the director Mary Zimmerman. In requesting this fantastical, infrequently heard 1817 work, which, with two intermissions, lasted nearly four hours, Ms. Fleming was hardly playing it safe. Armida is an alluring, conniving sorceress, the niece of the cagey King of Damascus during the crusades. The role is a tour de force for a soprano who can combine alluring long-spun lyrical singing with dazzling, sometimes demonic, coloratura flights.

Moreover, the lead soprano dominates a cast that requires six Rossini tenors, a casting nightmare for any company. The Met lined them up, headed by Lawrence Brownlee in an assured and appealing performance as Rinaldo, a paladin whom Armida ensnares through a combination of her beauty and magic.

Still, this was Ms. Fleming’s show, and she was impressive over all. She first sang the role at the Rossini Festival in Pesaro, Italy, in 1993, a performance recorded live for a Sony release. In 1996 she triumphed as Armida in a concert performance with the Opera Orchestra of New York at Carnegie Hall, conducted by Eve Queler. The question on Monday night was whether at this stage in her career, Ms. Fleming still had the technical agility to dispatch Rossini’s formidable roulades and runs. She has never been a coloratura specialist.

But she has a comprehensive understanding of technique, and the particular qualities of her own voice. If her passagework lacked the spitfire intensity that some sopranos could bring to the music, she treated the runs and embellishments as decorative extensions of the vocal line.

Yet there was a cautious quality to her performance. Her voice, while radiant and creamy, especially in extended lyrical passages and the compelling spans of recitative, seldom soared into the house. Here was a major soprano in a risky venture, pulling it off with intelligence and taste, yet being careful all the way.

Only in the final scene, when the desperate Armida is deserted by Rinaldo, who awakens to his duties as a Christian knight, did Ms. Fleming take risks and sing with fierceness and abandon.

Actually, there was cautiousness in every element of the Met’s “Armida,” from Ms. Zimmerman’s handsome if somewhat safe production, to the stylish yet routine conducting of Riccardo Frizza.

Ms. Zimmerman had a lot at stake with this production. Her previous work at the Met was a modestly updated, rather unfocused staging of Donizetti’s “Lucia di Lammermoor,” and, last season, a controversial take on Bellini’s “Sonnambula” that completely disregarded the story and invented a conceit in which a modern-day opera company is preparing a production of the Bellini work.

Ms. Zimmerman’s successful Broadway production of “Metamorphoses,” adapted from Ovid, a play she wrote and directed, was inventive, playful and yet profound. “Armida” suits the sensibilities she brought to bear in that work. And she had a sympathetic collaborator at the Met in Richard Hudson, who designed the sets and costumes.

The opera opens in an oasis in the desert outside Jerusalem. Here the stage is surrounded by stone-white walls through which we glimpse the spires of a temple. Peering down from the walls are two silent characters, embodiments of the two conflicting forces that drive the story and clash within the psyche of Armida: Love (a winsome young girl in a red dress with Cupid bow and arrows, played by Teele Ude), and Revenge (a hulking, bare-chested man with flowing pants, like Douglas Fairbanks in “The Thief of Baghdad,” played by Isaac Scranton).

The knights look splendid in their Crusader red gowns with shiny gold breastplates. The leaders of the paladins wear solemn, dark-hued, monkish robes. Armida arrives with a concocted story that she is the legitimate ruler of Damascus who has been deposed by a usurper, Idraote. Actually, Idraote (the stentorian bass Peter Volpe) is in on the plot to win the sympathy of the knights and infiltrate their ranks.

There are wonderful touches in the production. The serpents from the underworld who take cues from Armida look like devilish cat people from “Batman,” complete with coiling tails. When Armida transforms a forest grove into a magical pleasure palace, the smitten Rinaldo is attended to by a chorus of exotic Middle Eastern women.

But the tone of the production is often unclear. Is Ms. Zimmerman treating the work as a whimsical fairy tale? Or poking fun at it? Or milking it for theatricality? Ms. Fleming, from her arrival as a princess in gleaming white with a coterie of male servants, is too much the prima donna. Her magic spells call for real staging magic that never happens, and Armida’s ruthless ambition seldom comes through.

Only during a 15-minute ballet segment in Act II, delightfully choreographed by Graciela Daniele in her Met debut, does the production convey a clear attitude. A dancer (Aaron Loux, portraying Rinaldo), is fought over by forces of righteousness, serpentine devils and seductive women.

Vocally, the cast does the job. Mr. Brownlee has lost a great deal of weight and looks terrific. He sang with agility, elegance and Rossinian style, tossing off high notes and roulades. His voice lacked carrying power at times. Still, this was a winning performance for an increasingly important artist.

His fellow tenors, in smaller but crucial roles, fared well: John Osborn as Goffredo, a commander of the Christian forces; Yeghishe Manucharyan, as Eustazio, Goffredo’s brother; José Manuel Zapata, as Gernando, a paladin who, incensed at Rinaldo’s primacy, challenges him and dies in a duel. In Act III Kobie van Rensburg and Barry Banks, as two paladins who come to rescue Rinaldo from Armida’s clutches, joined Mr. Brownlee for a beautiful, wafting account of a deservedly famous trio for three tenors.

It has often taken Ms. Fleming a performance or two to settle into a demanding role when she sets a challenge for herself. She may gain confidence and take more risks as this run continues. But “Armida” belongs at the Met. And the company has the right star in place.

The State of Being

I have been thinking about pho (and bak chor mee, but that one is out of the question…). It’s time to revisit Chinatown that’s for sure. But my calendar is packed for the next two weeks, thanks especially to restaurant week this week.

Restaurant week! We have restaurants lined up from Monday through Sunday, with a break today – Wednesday – for the MET HD encore streaming of Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra. The opera was fantastic by the way; there is really something to be said for watching it on the big screen rather than live in the opera house. For one, we got to smuggle in a bottle of wine. Some of the other patrons brought small bottles too, or shared tacky plastic cups, but we had neat little wine glasses hehe. For another, we got to watch close ups of the singers, follow their every expression. And during intermissions, we had Renee Fleming entertain us backstage with interviews with the cast.

Anyway, yes, two days into restaurant week so far. On Monday, we dined at Maystreet with R and P. The appetizers was the highlight – we had grilled octopus and bacon wrapped dates. The duck burger with foie gras and chunky fries were pretty decent too, though a tad too salty. We really enjoyed Salpicon on Tuesday though. M last brought me there two years ago, where I really enjoyed the zingy taste of the blue marlin serviche. I got that again this time, washed down with some margarita. For the entree, I had the blackened Alaskan cod over rice pilaf; super tasty and paired with a half bottle of Alsace Gerwurtztraminer that had the bittersweet finish of a pomelo. Almost too full for the espresso chocolate lava cake with vanilla bean ice cream heh.

A little difficult to believe that I’ve been here a month now…Since I haven’t really had the opportunity to kick back and reflect on whether this was the case or not, I guess I’ve settled back in.

Relaxing Evening In

I admit – for a while, I was pining away for my convenient Lakeview location and ready group of friends in Chicago I could call up at a moment’s notice to go drinking on a Friday evening. But I can only blame myself (and maybe the fact that I live in at the end of the island – I’ve already driven 2,000 km in my first month here!) that I’m at home now. After all, I postponed a meet up with a friend till tomorrow evening, and begged off a swim date with TPR and a Karaoke session with Sihao who’s visiting from Chicago. And C, I promise I will make it downtown to the next drinking session!!!

In any case, after a couple glasses of Rosemont Shiraz Cabernet (a lot of dregs, interestingly, for such a young wine… still, pleasant and fruity enough to quaff, unlike the Parker Cab-Sauvignon Aussie crap that my dad bought at the inexplicable recommendation of his friend who ought to have his taste buds examined, urgh), my self-pity has happily faded away, and I’m enjoying the slight buzz the wine brings. And also enjoying my newly downloaded MP3 of Renee Fleming, Susan Graham, and Natalie Dessay’s Alcina. Pity the production DVD is not available (I hear there were a lot of hot nude Frenchmen parading on stage, hehe).

Quando M’en Vo

This aria by Musetta in La Boheme came on while I was driving with Chuck back from climbing, and the tune has been in my head the rest of the evening.

I couldn’t find the Renee Fleming one (the one I heard) online, so here’s one by Anna Netrebko.

Quando men vo soletta per la via,
When I walk all alone in the street
La gente sosta e mira
People stop and stare at me
E la bellezza mia tutta ricerca in me
And look for my whole beauty
Da capo a pie’…
From head to feet

Ed assaporo allor la bramosia
And then I taste the slight yearning
Sottil, che da gli occhi traspira
which transpires from their eyes
E dai palesi vezzi intender sa
and which is able to perceive from manifest charms
Alle occulte beltà.
to most hidden beauties.
Così l’effluvio del desìo
tutta m’aggira,
So the scent of desire is all around me,
Felice mi fa!
it makes me happy!

E tu che sai, che memori e ti struggi
And you, while knowing, reminding and longing,
Da me tanto rifuggi?
you shrink from me?
So ben:
I know it very well:
le angoscie tue non le vuoi dir,
you don’t want to express your anguish,
Ma ti senti morir!
but you feel as if you’re dying!