Dec. 12th, 2010 10:53 pm
"Dear Lyric: You suck."
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I've seen some disappointing performances at Lyric Opera over the years, and I'm generally content to bitch about them some here and leave it at that. But for the first time, I'm contemplating an actual letter of complaint. I bought tickets to a concert with Renee Fleming expected a concert starring her and what we got was a concert featuring her.
In order to make informed dinner plans, Nuphy called up the office to find out how long the concert would be. "I'm glad I did," he told me. "Two hours and forty minutes! Renee must be feeling generous." Actually, she was being quite stingy. Not counting encores, she gave us nine songs. By themselves they wouldn't have filled an hour. So what was the balance of time (minus the half-hour intermission) taken up with?
Symphonic pieces! As
monshu vented bitterly afterwards, "It was the orchestra that was being featured, not her. And they were terrible." I've heard the Lyric orchestra play well, but not generally with Andrew Davis conducting it. About the only piece they acquitted themselves on was First Waltz Sequence from Rosenkavalier. I would say the low point was their attempt to perform Smetana's "Vltava" except things got even worse at the end.
This is the first time I've walked out on a performer during an encore and I'm not sorry. It was Fleming's chance to redeem herself for an abbreviated programme of mostly mediocre pieces. (Thaïs, really?) We went hoping for Strauss and Mozart; what we got was Puccini and Massenet. When she was called back to the stage, she told us Richard Strauss was her favourite composer--then inexplicably went on to sing--of all things--"O mio babbino caro"!
I didn't think it could get worse than that, but it did. "This piece is completely different," she began and I hissed into Nuphy's ear "Good!" Because I was thinking At last a reprieve from all this sentimental Fretalian shite. Finally some good German opera! But what did she come out with? JEFF BUCKLEY'S LEONARD COHEN'S "HALLELUJAH". I wish I were fucking kidding, but I'm not.
Needless to say, we weren't sticking around after that. (A shame in a way, because she actually did grant our wish with the next piece, an aria from Die tote Stadt. But I've heard her sing it before, so it came as too little too late.)
monshu turned to me and asked, "What was that dreadful piece?" and I explained to him a bit of the performance history, how Buckley's lugubrious take on a characteristically acerbic Cohen composition had quickly achieved cliché status and was now as inescapable as a flu virus.
I felt cheated. Worse, I felt like I'd lured my best friend there under false pretenses. The recital she'd given a few years back was so fantastic, Nuphy and I needed no inducements to snap up tickets for this one. For what? At every juncture, Fleming's lack of trust in her audience and--it must be said--lack of taste had sabotaged what could've been the highlight of the season. All it took to complete the debacle was that hack Davis massacring one potentially lovely but unchallenging piece after another. And she's just been named "creative consultant"? I shudder for the future!
In order to make informed dinner plans, Nuphy called up the office to find out how long the concert would be. "I'm glad I did," he told me. "Two hours and forty minutes! Renee must be feeling generous." Actually, she was being quite stingy. Not counting encores, she gave us nine songs. By themselves they wouldn't have filled an hour. So what was the balance of time (minus the half-hour intermission) taken up with?
Symphonic pieces! As
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This is the first time I've walked out on a performer during an encore and I'm not sorry. It was Fleming's chance to redeem herself for an abbreviated programme of mostly mediocre pieces. (Thaïs, really?) We went hoping for Strauss and Mozart; what we got was Puccini and Massenet. When she was called back to the stage, she told us Richard Strauss was her favourite composer--then inexplicably went on to sing--of all things--"O mio babbino caro"!
I didn't think it could get worse than that, but it did. "This piece is completely different," she began and I hissed into Nuphy's ear "Good!" Because I was thinking At last a reprieve from all this sentimental Fretalian shite. Finally some good German opera! But what did she come out with? JEFF BUCKLEY'S LEONARD COHEN'S "HALLELUJAH". I wish I were fucking kidding, but I'm not.
Needless to say, we weren't sticking around after that. (A shame in a way, because she actually did grant our wish with the next piece, an aria from Die tote Stadt. But I've heard her sing it before, so it came as too little too late.)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
I felt cheated. Worse, I felt like I'd lured my best friend there under false pretenses. The recital she'd given a few years back was so fantastic, Nuphy and I needed no inducements to snap up tickets for this one. For what? At every juncture, Fleming's lack of trust in her audience and--it must be said--lack of taste had sabotaged what could've been the highlight of the season. All it took to complete the debacle was that hack Davis massacring one potentially lovely but unchallenging piece after another. And she's just been named "creative consultant"? I shudder for the future!
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Andrew Patner -- Chicago
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Here's my Friday Fun-Times story on her appointment to the Lyric artistic crew, jest fyi:
http://viewfromhere.typepad.com/the_view_from_here/2010/12/lyric-opera-of-chicago-renée-fleming-american-diva-joins-artistic-administration-team.html
Thanks for laying out yr views on Sunday's show. They did also start exactly on time at 3 p.m. LOL.
aP
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Thanks for the links.
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Yeah, I loved the Buckley version when I first heard it a decade ago. But there have been a hundred rehashes in the meantime, each one less welcome than the one before. (Well, not entirely; I kinda wish k.d. lang's version had been higher up in the queue when I could've appreciated it more.)
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http://viewfromhere.typepad.com/the_view_from_here/2010/12/lyric-opera-of-chicago-renée-fleming-sings-for-a-while.html
Andrew