muckefuck: (zhongkui)
[personal profile] muckefuck
When it comes to standing ovations, my rule is simple but strict: Wholeheartedly or not at all. If I feel truly moved by a performance, I will shoot up from my chair at the end and stand there clapping whether or not any else in the theatre does or not. And if I don't, I won't be compelled by peer pressure. So Kaufmann and Fleming may have gotten most of the house on their feet Wednesday night, but not me.

It was a near thing, though. Fleming more than made up for her last disappointing concert at Lyric (the first thing we did once we had the programme in hand was look through the titles and pick out the three orchestral pieces) even if her "Danny Boy" was overly mannered and she sounded a little shaky in spots. (At one point during a duet, her nervousness was so palpable that Kaufmann took her hand to steady her.) The way she looks, it's hard to believe she just turned 55, but she may be entering the twilight of her career. Kaufmann, on the other hand, is in his prime. Nuphy predicted he'd bring down the house with his "Pourquoi me réveiller" and he did. His French pronunciation is exquisite, which is a godsend given how much bloody Massenet they sang. And not just sang--they acted it, both vocally and bodily, playing off each other beautifully.

Nuphy complained about the lack of German and was heard, because the two encores were Strauss and Korngold. Their duet from Die tote Stadt may have been my favourite thing they did. Of the symphonic pieces, Davis competently led the Saint-Saëns, murdered the Verdi, and I could care less about the Tippett. And now we know that the sound isn't much better in the lower boxes but the chairs are much worse.

The scent of the hyacinths in our dining room was almost smothering; I hope Azim's diners don't mind it. Goly hadn't arrived before we had to leave, so we missed the joy of her appreciation. I had the sabzi polow with the fried whitefish, just like last year, and it was shish andaz for the Old Man. The sweets were all boughten, but we didn't mind; I tried something that looked rather like rugeleh but with a cardamom filling. I suppose it all augurs well for the new year.

It was a much less contentious condo meeting than I'd anticipated, which means that we didn't actually try to tackle any tough issues. We did get the budget approved, only four months too late, and the president dodge my question about whether we were equally overdue for elections. But we did get our hosting out of the way for the next couple years. More importantly, I finally had a chance to chat with the new couple on the second floor. He's handy, which is a plus, and we very patient with my banging on about gardening. (They want to try a plot this coming year.) They asked good questions at the meeting, but it's far too early to determine where they might stand in a month when we actually vote on rental policy--maybe.
Date: 2014-03-27 04:02 pm (UTC)

From: [identity profile] mlr.livejournal.com
Kaufmann was the Met's Werther in this month's HD broadcast. His singing was incredible, truly. But the opera was so cloying I could barely stand it.
Date: 2014-03-27 07:56 pm (UTC)

From: [identity profile] muckefuck.livejournal.com
Yeah, not an opera I care for much at all--which is why having just one or two excerpts is pretty much ideal.

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