Das Rheingold and Die Walkure: the LA Ring Revisited

Since I had previously seen the individual productions of LA Opera's Ring cycle over the last year and a half, I was initially not going to see it as the full cycle for reasons of cost and scheduling (9 days to see an entire cycle- what were they thinking?). When the prices came down and the opportunity arose to buy selected performances rather than an entire cycle I eagerly bought tickets to see Rheingold and Walkure and after seeing how director Achim Freyer has tweaked what were already substantial artistic triumphs into near perfection I'm certainly glad I did. I was already tempted to see the fantastic Gotterdamerung again, but now I may even see Siegfried just to see how it's been improved.

Das Rheingold has been tinkered with less than Walkure, though there were subtle changes that made it even better than I recalled. That's saying something since I'd rate this particular Rheingold among my top five favorite productions of all time (and yes, it is my favorite opera). I was seated much further back in the orchestra than I was the first time, which makes Freyer's mise en scenes much more potent but had the distinct disadvantage of making large portions of the orchestra almost inaudible though the singing came through with complete volume and clarity all evening. We were stuck in a dead zone for the orchestra, unfortunately.

Richard Paul Fink has taken over as Alberich, replacing Gordon Hawkins. Fink brings a different, more energetic interpretation to the part, changing the dynamics in a significant way. This production of Rheingold casts Loge as the central figure, while Wotan is an observer to his own miscalculations and poor choices- hence the cage around his head representing how he's trapped by his own machinations. Fink's strong presence makes Arnold Bezuyen's Loge a less dominant figure this time around, which gives the entire production a less sinister air, while making it more of an ensemble piece, further aided by having Fricka and Wotan move about the stage more than they did the first time around. Michelle De Young, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite singers, was again spot on as Fricka, arms extended in pitiable frustration- she's pleading or she's illustrating how despicable her husband's games are. Graham Clark's Mime gave an energized, strongly sung performance. Fink's singing was strong throughout, and while he's not a sinister Alberich, he displays emotion through his voice and body language, allowing him to project more personality than anyone else onstage despite being masked through the entire performance. His Alberich is a cocky ringmaster, corrupted and avaricious. Hungry to exploit and eager to run the show. It's quite an interpretation.

Vitalij Kowaljow's Wotan, which was solid last year after a hesitant start, is now a full-blown star turn, though that becomes more apparent in Die Walkure. Having perhaps the most onerous demands as far as working within Freyer's elaborate production, Kowaljow seems completely at home in this role and he owns it from the moment he opens his mouth. For my money, he's the Wotan I want to see whenever possible and though he's fantastic here, I can't wait to see what he does with this role in a different production.

What surprised me the second time around? How solid this cast is. For Rheingold, there is not a single weak link onstage. I was also impressed by how quickly it moves and feels significantly less static than the 2009 version. Even the scene where Alberich turns from a dragon to a frog, normally my least favorite part of this, went by without me hoping it would be over quickly. The scene in the Nibelung's mine was thrilling and brilliantly choreographed, thanks to Clark's willingness to go all out and lead the way. I'm still not a fan of the airplane rainbow bridge, but it's larger now and makes sense in that you can tell what it is and further back in the house the Giants magnifying glasses are of no effect whatsoever. Small quibbles for what is really one of the greatest interpretations of Wagner's work there is, and I do mean that. For those who think this production has nothing to do with the story, what part of it don't you understand?

The following night we returned for Walkure, which didn't thrill me as much as Rheingold the first time around, but now I would have to concede it's better than it's predecessor. Why? Kowlojov, Domingo and Michelle DeYoung. Kowloljov owns this evening and though Domingo naturally got the biggest rounds of applause, Kowoljov wasn't far behind and in my opinion gave a flawless, nuanced, extremely sensitive performance. In the third act his remorse and anger were staggering. Having Michelle DeYoung replace Anja Kampe, who was a weak link last year as Sieglinde, transformed the first act from the most static thing I've ever seen into a thrilling, brilliant hour of drama and passion. She matches up much better with Domingo, and having the characters move around the circle, while the presence of Hunding and his kin lurk all around them, greatly improves the drama.

Second time around, improvements were significant for the Ride of the Valkyries, which now seems much angrier and violent, and having seen the production, I had a better appreciation of how Freyer uses a silhouette of the unborn Siegfried to mark time's progression, or lack thereof. There are so many brilliant, small details and nuances in this production that illuminate the story (if you know it) in such rewarding ways. The way trails of blood red ribbon tether the gods to Freia. The way Wotan gathers up the same tethers (tendrils?) extending from his Wanderer persona as he prepares to banish Brunnhilde, and then casts them aside, as if it's the most painful thing he's ever had to do. Kowoljow was simply riveting during this part of the third act.

And then there's Linda Watson- the Achilles heel of the production. Still not my kind of Valkyrie, but at least when she didn't have to emote anything strongly her voice was pleasant. Unfortunately, in Walkure, that's not too often, and let's just say she's no Gwyneth Jones.

This night flew by and oddly, was one of the most brilliantly paced, perfectly executed evenings of opera I've ever attended. I just wish I could have heard the orchestra better.

A final note: I saw Freyer in the lobby Saturday night and was quite disappointed he didn't come out to take a bow on either night. Based on the strong audience reaction, I think he would have been warmly greeted. Contrary to all the naysayers, everything I overheard during intermissions and after, with the exception of a certain New Yorker and a lover of Italian Bel Canto whom I brought with me on Saturday, was extremely positive.

Okay, one more note: it was a pleasure to run into Brian from Out West Arts, The Opera Tattler and her brother, and to catch up with Mary Ann Smart, whom I have not seen for way too long.

Really, you'd be foolish to miss this if you can make it.

He said, she said or: Lust and Loathing in LA

I'm sitting in a hotel room in downtown LA listening to Madame Merle complain about the audience at LA Opera (people in flip flops and incessant wrapper masturbation for the last hour of the performance) and compare a magnificent performance of Das Rheingold to Chinese opera. She says Chinese opera was worse. To my ears, that's akin to comparing a South Park cartoon to a Dix painting as equal representations of contemporary social commentary. I could probably come up with a better analogy for this, but when you (if you) get through this post you may understand why I'm not at the top of my game on this day. Oh, let me correct this as I am being heckled as I as write this. She's claiming it was as bad as an Air Supply concert.

Now, is this the most ludicrous thing you've ever read? Heathens.

Guest writer Madame Merle: first, I'm being completely misrepresented... in my defense, which obviously won't work here, i did mention i don't like opera, but i make a really good arm piece...
rheingold, the story could have been told in an hour and the action would not have been sped up in the least. and seriously who taught la-la land opera goers etiquette? here's an opportunity to have an event folks... try some heels! and yes it was 12 hours and 53 minutes at least but eat before or unwrap your candy before the show, you were at the last 10 minutes for goodness sake.
now the Chinese Opera, i was sure my ear drums would burst, who sings that high! and why??? though had about the same amount of action and had actually managed to repress that i had ever seen anything that horrific until about half way through last night's performance when i suddenly had the flashback as i was trying to figure out ways to quietly kill myself to not have to suffer further.
now SOUTHPARK, come on... the beginnings of each episode this season have been brilliant, i was not saying anything at all good about any opera, chinese, german, italian, or any such likes... though did like dix.
are all women in Opera weak? vain? manipulative? so afraid her man will leave her, cheat again, she's willing to do anything?
the lessons i learned last night, power over love, but wait, youth over everything.
and what, only 60 more hours to go... joy of all joys.

Marcher: Yes, everyone knows you like Dix. What to do, you try, try to spread the wonders of the art to those you know and then you end up afterwards sitting at the Omni's outdoor bar listening to how one woman lost her virginity to Walkure (a marathon performance she has never found anyone else could equal since) while the other two tried to convince me of the merits of REO Speedwagon. Really, is this my life? Not that I'm complaining, but it was rather surreal. I was at least relieved to learn the deflowering did not take place during the first act.

Apparently Madame Merle has more to say, since she has figured out a way to poison herself at dinner and thus miss Domingo in Walkure, the prospect of which is causing her to break out in hives while she furiously texts her mother about the faux paus committed by various audience members:

Madame Merle: (putting on her bedroom eyes)... though we were actually a little more passionate about depeche mode... and we all know my likes are why you are allowing me to be here arguing in bed right now...
this is a city where people go to whole foods in their pajamas, but was hoping at least there would be some decorum, style, class... have i been in new york too long... i need to go back to the Met, its only obvious, leaving him to his girls with their german sex tales. [this portion has had certain bitchy elements removed by Marcher, to Madame Merle's great and vociferous protestations].

Marcher: Depeche Mode is the 80's version of Journey and just as musically vapid.

When I return, I'm going to write a real post about last night, and there are still a few other things I need to catch up on, but for now I'm going to give Madame Merle one final shot at clarifying herself (she knows no one cares about this except herself). We are now listening to Rick James. Seriously. Now I feel as if I'm in a Hunter S. Thomson story. Lust and Loathing in Los Angeles. Except there are no drugs to be found anywhere in this room. Well, there is the mini-fridge, which I'm about to drink my breakfast from.

Madame Merle:THERE, THAT'S EXACTLY IT! i had to do that opera stone cold sober!!!! (was about to write iTunes on shuffle as some sort of defense, but the fact that very kinky girl is even on it is indefensible... so i have to stop)

Marcher: She is a pretty arm piece, and brought everything she saw lacking in the audience, but I didn't expect any less of her. Needless to say, the price I'm going to pay for subjecting a juke box girl to 5 1/2 hours of Walkure will probably destroy myriad other hopes and fantasies I may have been harboring about the rest of the stay here in LA, but that's the price one pays for art, no?

It's now 1:20. Anyone want a ticket to see Walkure tonight?

Strippers!

Since I've lived in this neighborhood for five years, and hung out in it for a lot longer than that, it's sometimes easy to think it will never change. But recently, I noticed this sign replaced the really ugly, sleazy one outside the world-famous Mitchelll Bros. O'Farrell Theater, which is just down my street. This sign is a huge improvement over the old skanky one:

Turns out the daughter and son of Jim Mitchell, the brother who killed Artie, the other Mitchell Brother, are now running the joint and have ambitions to make it a friendlier place for the neighborhood, the dancers and the patrons. That's all to the good, believe me. I haven't been in the place since 1992, but I'm wishing them all the success in the world since it's not going anywhere and it is a City institution. There is a profile and interview with Meta Jane Mitchell Johnson in the current SF Bay Guardian here. Good luck Meta and Justin. Let me know when there's a locals discount.

Then there's the skanky New Century Theater across the street, which I have only been to once, this past Valentine's Day (at MG's request), but they've had this sign up for awhile now, and the first thing I thought of when I saw it was "Gosh, she looks like Anna Netrebko!"

No such luck on the inside, but the talent was good in a different way, and though I suspect no one at the New Century even knows who Netrebko is, it's nice to see the neighborhood spiff up once in awhile.

60 Hours in New York Part 1 (NSFW)

New York holds such an embarrassment of riches when it comes to art and culture that there are moments I long to live there. I had the good fortune to be able to drop in for the weekend during the middle of an East coast business trip and caught 4 great shows in between hanging out with two dear friends.

Normally I would start with the opera, but the first large exhibition of Otto Dix's work at the Neue Galerie gets ranked first in importance because it's ridiculous Dix is not more well-known in this country. He's one of the most significant artists of the 20th Century and his work is unforgettable once you've seen it. With the exception of Goya, I cannot think of a painter who's willingness to portray his world was so unflinching and revealing. It's this quality, coupled with a deep level of skill and style, that gives Dix's art its potency.

The exhibit has some unfortunate absences- notably the Big City Triptych, Prager Strabe, The War Cripples, To Beauty, The Seven Deadly Sins, Der Krieg, Three Women, and the portraits of Dr. Paul and Sylvia Von Harden. Nevertheless, it's a comprehensive overview from the most important years of Dix's career and features a lot of work I hadn't seen before. There's a large selection of his WWI prints which still had the same hit-you-in-chest impact from the first time I saw them at LA's Museum of Art more than 20 years ago. This is not a touring show, and the Neue partnered with the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts to present it. So it's not coming to a city near you. The exhibit runs until August 30th. If you are in New York, don't miss it.

Oh- and we saw Maggie Gyllenhall there with her baby. She looks better in person and her child is very well-behaved- how many actresses you can say that about?

One shame to the Neue- ask your store employees about how to create a commemorative exhibit poster- the one (wtf !?!) you have is unsuitable for the exhibit, and I really would have liked to have had one.

After the Nueue, we went over to see the Cartier-Bresson exhibit at the MOMA, which was interesting, good even, but almost obliterated from my consciousness by the Marina Abramovic retrospective taking place on the same floor, along with the William Kentridge exhibit. I don't think I've ever seen an art exhibit that freaked me out to the extent this one did. It's truly disturbing, and I mean that in the most complimentary way. There's been a mountain of press on it, so do search if you want more details and information. The pictures here are stills from films or live presentations and can't possibly capture the impact of watching them or seeing them live.

I didn't realize that anyone could participate in the "Artist is Present" portion of the show. If I could go back and participate in this, I surely would. This kind of art isn't to everyone's taste, and there are tons of naysayers who would say "where is the art in this?" but I was deeply moved by it- the video with her and her parents flanking her on each side, while her father aimlessly twirls a gun with a sinister, detached look on his face was simply chilling. I can't find a single image of that particular part to steal and post here, but the show ends May 31st and is fascinating, disturbing and yes, it is most certainly art.

The Kentridge exhibit, which I missed when it was in San Francisco, was also deeply interesting (and alas, now over in NY), but it would also have taken a good two hours to absorb completely and I didn't have that much time to devote to it sadly. Having all three one the same floor? Priceless. First stop in NY on my next visit, after the opera house that is, is NY's MOMA- for an entire afternoon.

Which brings me to Berg's Lulu at the Met, which was fantastic but I'm going to save that for another post.

schadenfreude

Yesterday I received an email from Ticketmaster offering up to 8 free tickets to see the upcoming Foreigner/Styx/Kansas concert out in Concord. Seriously.

Even if it were closer, say right next door, they would still have to throw in a free dinner, drinks, Marisa Tomei and a $100 gift card to make it worth sitting through what would be the concert going equivalent of a 4 hour long wait at the DMV.

Those bands sucked then. They suck now. And now they're sucking it, suckers.

Otello as it should be (almost) at Opera Carolina

Maybe I don't read enough, but I've never heard much about Carl Tanner. That's not really true. I never heard of him period. When I bought my ticket to see Opera Carolina's production of Otello it was because I was going to be in Charlotte that night and seeing one of Verdi's best operas in a town where I knew no one seemed like a pretty good way to spend a night during a business trip. I may have heard of Sandra Lopez, this production's Desdemona, but having lived in California my entire life I've known a few Sandra Lopezes so who really knows. It's not a name that sticks out like Sondra Radvanovsky, right?

My expectations for a regional opera company featuring three leads I'd never heard of weren't particularly high and I expected to be charmed at best. Stupid me with my big-city San Francisco pretensions. I have finally seen a really good performance of Otello- courtesy of Carl Tanner, who I see used to be truck driver before he became an opera singer. Go figure. He's the most convincing performer in this role I've seen yet. Lopez was excellent too, reminding me of a young Ruth Ann Swenson. Jason Howard's Iago didn't work as well for me, mostly because his acting and stage presence couldn't match Tanner and Lopez, who, let me say it one more time, were exceptional in these roles.

What was so exceptional about Tanner is that Otello is a hard role to pull off. First of all, it's really demanding vocally, and on top of that, if the singer can't act the whole thing fails and fails big. Otello isn't a particularly sympathetic character and for his tragedy to work we need to care about him and feel his doubt, his anger, his insecurity and regret. Tanner is the first singer I've seen onstage to actually pull this off and make it look effortless. Desdemona, who can often come across as window dressing, was very sympathetically portrayed by Lopez in this production, especially in the final act's "Willow Song" and "Ave Maria." I'd readily see both of these singers again with enthusiasm.

The Opera Carolina Chorus also impressed me quite a bit with their cohesion, tone and enunciation. The sets and stage direction were simple but straightforward and effective and didn't look cheap or cheesy. It was a first class production, if not an opulent one.

There was one problem however, and it was significant since it was the conductor, James Meena. Meena chose to conduct Otello without a score. I could see this clearly since the Belk Theater has the largest, most open pit I've ever seen and sitting in the front row of the mezzanine I could see directly into it.

Really Mr. Meena? No score for Otello, huh? Next time I think he should use one. The strings during the opening storm scene were non-existent. The tempi were often way too fast. Entrances were missed, singers were obliterated by the orches tra's volume. All of which is too bad, because the orchestra sounded great at times, and has a terrific brass section and solid cello players. The rest of the strings though, sounded like they were flailing most of the night. Another bad choice on Meena's part was put the two trumpeters in the mezzanine in the third act. They were out of sync and it was really distracting. All of this is very noticeable because the Belk has fanstastic acoustics. I really don't understand this idea of conducting a score like this from memory. Is Meena one of the world's great Verdi conductors and I just didn't know this? Has the company done it so many times he knows like the back of his hand? Is the score that simple. No. It's one of Verdi's most complicated, nuanced works, perhaps only surpassed by Boccanegra in it's gorgeous tones and subtleties. Stupid choice, maestro- you were the weak link in an otherwise very fine evening at the opera.

Carl Tanner- a great Otello; Sandra Lopez- a great Desdemona. In Charlotte, North Carolina of all places. Seriously. On a side note, Charlotte has a lovely uptown area with some great architecture which I'll post once I return to California. It's really quite nice here.

The T.A.M.I. Show!

The T.A.M.I. Show, which stands for Teenage Awards Music International was originally conceived to be an annual event. In reality, it only happened once, for two performances on October 28 & 29 at the 3000-seat Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. The details of how the concert came together are explained in the liner notes of the DVD, so I'll skip how The Rolling Stones, James Brown, The Beach Boys, The Supremes, Marvin Gaye, The Miracles, Leslie Gore, Chuck Berry and the others all ended up on the same stage for a five hour show. The film of the concert came out in theaters two weeks after the shows, played for months and then disappeared until last March except for some bootleg copies and some footage that was added to the T.N.T. show and released on a video in 1982. The Beach Boys had their footage cut from every print after the run, and it only re-surfaced in their own recent anthology and is now included in the DVD. Remastered and gloriously restored to fullscreen format, the DVD release presents the entire concert from October 29th in its entirety for the first time in 46 years.

I caught it quite by accident more than 20 years in the TAMI/TNT version and as I mentioned in my earlier post, was floored by how great it was. Ever since then I've wanted to see it again, and I bought a copy of it the day it came out. Since then I've watched the whole thing 6 or 7 times, and the James Brown segment at least a dozen times. What has impressed me with each viewing is how phenomenal the entire show was, and how it captures a time in the pop music scene that is forever irretrievable, even though festivals such as Outside Lands, Coachella and Lollapalooza try to make a modern day version of it. As great and diverse as the contemporary festivals are, it's not the same. But then there is little, if anything, that's the same in pop culture now as it was in 1964.

To put it in perspective, in 1964 Chuck Berry had his biggest hit with "Nadine," but he was already considered an "oldies" act by that time, since he'd been making records since 1955, debuting with "Maybelline". Elvis was already making two movies a year. Beatlemania was in full bloom and men were starting to be drafted into the Vietnam war in large numbers. The Jackson 5 wouldn't release their first single for another 5 years. Concept albums didn't exist and it would be another year before the Beatles released their first song that wasn't about a girl ("Nowhere Man"). The Civil Rights Act had just passed.

Now consider that Pink's first album came out ten years ago. Beyonce' has been singing since 1997, the Stones are still touring and most pop careers span decades without the stigma of being "oldies" acts. For example, U2's first album was released thirty years ago, Madonna's in 1983 and Radiohead's in 1993. Rap is more than 30 years old. Barack Obama is president. In 1964, listening to the equivalent of some of today's most popular pop artists would have made you a fan of early Bing Crosby, Tommy Dorsey and Perry Como while your contemporaries were listening to I Want to Hold Your Hand and Pretty Woman.

Okay, enough of that, because while the subject what changed in the United States that made American culture synonymous with pop culture is really fascinating, what I really want to discuss are the music and performances in the show.

After a somewhat lame title sequence featuring hosts Jan and Dean skateboarding to the Civic while "Here They Come From All Over the World" plays over the titles, we're smack in the show with our hosts introducing "the man who started it all back in 1958 [where the hell did they get that date from?]... Chuck Berry!"

Berry, who maintained his tradition of being paid before he hit the stage for this gig, causing it to start late, looks great as he launches into "Johnny B. Goode," complete with go-go dancers tearing it up on risers behind him. The back up band in this case is Phil Spector's Wrecking Crew, which at the time included Glen Campbell and Leon Russell. Next comes "Maybelline," and Berry starts to look like he's having a blast. After the first chorus, Gerry and the Pacemakers take the song over, giving it a distinctly British Mersey meets Nashville flavor that really works. The Pacemakers are a pretty homely looking bunch, but they can play. They then launch into their big hit, "Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying" and one realizes how brilliantly this particular band summarizes British pop of the early 60's. From the same city as the Beatles and managed by Brian Epstein, Gerry Mardsen's vocal style is easily recognizable as influencing everyone from the Beatles to the Clash. They tear into "It's Gonna Be Alright," a garage anthem before the term was ever coined, which sounds like something that could easily have been done by Social Distortion.

Berry comes back for "Sweet Little Sixteen" and what becomes obvious is what a great guitar player he is, in a thrash and burn kind of way- a sound that becomes so ingrained in rock that it's easy to forget he's the one who largely invented it. "Sixteen" is cut short so the Pacemakers can romp into "How Do You Do it?" which sounds like a Beatles tune of the same era.

Now we come to "Nadine" and this is truly the first of many great moments to come. Chugging at full steam with the Wrecking Crew rocking in full blast behind him, the camera frames berry from the waist up so we can see him playing his Gibson in the low part of the frame. Above him on risers are two female dancers frugging like mad. One is in her pajamas and pigtails and to her right is a girl dancing with wild abandon in a bikini who likes like she belongs in a Russ Meyer movie. Not only is the bikini-girl built to thrill, but she dances her ass off and seems to be defying gravity. Berry never even looks back over his shoulder at them, but his performance is so charged it seems like the bikini-vixen is dancing right in front of him. The audience sounds like its completely freaking out at this point, and the camera cuts away to the Pacemakers hilariously clapping along way off the beat.

Berry brings "Nadine" to a close way too early, clearly leaving the audience (and this viewer) wanting more.

Gerry and the Pacemakers then pick up the pace with "I Like It" which sounds like it could have easily been on The Clash's Sandinista- which I find a bit shocking when I first hear it, but after repeated viewings it makes sense to me and has given me lot of respect for this band that has somehow been remembered for being lightweight, which this video certainly proves is wrong.

Next up are the Miracles, before Smokey Robinson's name was placed in the front. Wilson's voice is already gold at this point in their career. Beginning with "That's What Love is Made Of", when Smokey sings "snakes, snails, puppy-dog's tails, sugar, spice, everything nice," you see a singer so in command of his talents that it's no wonder that he became a superstar. And he can belt it out- when the Miracles sing "You've Really Got a Hold On Me" the smooth Smokey is nowhere in sight and he's much more reminiscent of Sam Cooke trying to work up to Otis Redding's world. The Miracles, dancing and singing back-up, are the definition sixties soul cool. "Mickey's Monkey" is a rave-up that the recorded version doesn't even come close to capturing. Robinson really puts on a show with this number. When the Miracles all remove their jackets and get down low to wind it down before winding up the ending and walking offstage while the music is still playing, it makes me think had Marvin Gaye never come to Berry Gordy's attention, it would have likely been Smokey who would have been seen as Motown's sex symbol.

Thankfully Marvin did show up and he follows the Miracles. Looking super dapper in a white tux with a bandolero type jacket, Gaye exudes extreme confidence and youth as he sings "Stubborn Kind of Fellow" and "Pride and Joy." But there is little evidence of what was to come a few years later, either in the material or the presentation. At this stage he's just a beautiful man with a great voice singing standard Motown pop. During "Can I Get a Witness" two dancers come up on each side of him and he doesn't seem to know what to do with them. You don't get that impression with Smokey and the Marvin of a few years later would have handled it very differently. "Hitchhike" is his last number and he does some uncomfortable looking dancing (Gaye was never known to be a good dancer), but vocally at this point he's fully warmed-up and he sounds great.

Leslie Gore, who was one of the top-billed acts of the show, was for me the biggest surprise of the concert after watching a few times. All these years later, it's easy to remember her for the silliness of "It's My Party" and "Judy's Turn to Cry," both of which have been parodied and used in advertisements for so long it's hard to hear them as anything but novelties. But Gore begins her set with "Maybe I Know" and then launches into "You Don't Own Me" which kind of floored me not only because of its strong feminist statement, but she delivers it with such haunting conviction it made me think Debbie Harry was nothing but a poseur in those early Blondie years. Gore was the real thing. The rest of the set is "You Didn't Look Around" and a sneering, sassy "Hey Now" before the two crowd-pleasers mentioned at the top. Gore looks ridiculous in her tight curl and painful looking eyebrows, and she's dressed like her mom, but Leslie Gore is the epitome of the "girl group" sound of the sixties and her set, which has the most songs because of her popularity in 1964, is a true highlight on a disc that has a lot of competition. She was all of 18 when this was filmed. Amazing.

Jan and Dean then do "Little Old Lady from Pasadena" and "Sidewalk Surfin'." Even though they predate the Beach Boys, by fully adopting the surf music sound the Beach Boys refined to perfection, if not art, Jan and Dean have always struck me as second tier, even though they had a ridiculous number of solid hits and were solid songwriters. They're appealing in these two songs, though Jean looks slightly bored during "Sidewalk Surfin'" Dean looks like he's having a really good time, singing, dancing and riding a skateboard around the stage.

They then introduce "the real surfers- The Beach Boys!" Brian Wilson is with them, one his last appearances with the band, and their four-song set is comprised of: "Surfin' USA,"" I Get Around,""Surfer Girl," and "Dance,Dance, Dance." There is so much I could write about what is onscreen and what comes through the speakers over the next nine minutes that it would take me all night and there are still five more bands yet to take the stage. So to summarize:

• The rivalry between the Beach Boys and the Beatles never made sense to me until I saw this.
• The Beach Boys ability to harmonize, better than probably any other pop group ever, was not a studio creation, but the real thing.
• They could play their instruments really well.
• Dennis Wilson must have been a lot of fun to hang out with.
• Mike Love had the worst comb-over ever in the world of rock music.
• Chuck Berry really did start it all, just like Jan and Dean said he did.
• Brian Wilson is a genius.

After the Beach Boys, Billy J. Kramer and the Dakotas (who?) are introduced and perform four songs, beginning with their smash hit "Little Children." Kramer and the Dakotas were also managed by Brian Epstein, and they had Lennon-McCartney songs at their disposal, three of which- "Bad to Me," "I'll Keep You Satisfied," and "From a Window" are the remaining songs of the set. For awhile, these guys had some big hits, especially in England. "Little Children," however, is one of the creepiest things I've ever seen, ranking a solid ten on the ick factor, that makes it comically absurd. I don't care what the song's defenders on Amazon say, there is no way you can listen to this song in 2010 and not think pedophile creep. Especially with the then 21 year-old Kramer looking like a complete ponce. It's startling. Fascinating. Creepy. Yuck. And as much as I hate to admit it, it's really great in a Herschell Gordon Lewis kind of way. It causes one to forget the remaining three songs, written by Lennon and McCartney, are actually pretty good and sound exactly like the Beatles except sung by a much less talented singer than John and Paul were.

The Supremes, who like the Miracles at this point, didn't have Diana Ross' name out front, are from my perspective the only relative disappointment of the show. Not because they were bad, but because the show was filmed before they had made some of their best music, though "Baby Love" and "Where Did Our Love Go?" follow "When the Lovelight Starts..." and "Run, Run, Run." Their voices sound great, they look great, but there just isn't much excitement coming from them. They're a very polished trio at this point already, but maybe they don't have the awareness of what they're about to become within the next two years. They come across as a really good girl group with two great songs, but considering what's come before them, it's just okay, though the crowd obviously loves "Where Did Our Love Go?" and the choreography on that song for the dancers is among the most fun of the show- especially Teri Garr in a Target logo sweatshirt long before the logo ever existed.

The Barbarians are only there because someone associated with the show put out their single, "Hey Little Bird,"- a mod rave-up that sounds like a grungy version of the Who at that time. They also had a drummer with a missing left-hand, 30 years before Def Leppard had one.

Which brings us to the highlight of the concert- in fact, to one of the highlights of pop music period- James Brown on the TAMI show. With the Famous Flames tight on his right and part of his band handling the rhythm and percussion, Brown delivers eighteen minutes of scorching R&B that is simply unforgettable and has been the chief reason people have clamored so long for the release of this film. Once you've seen it you want everyone else you know to see it to. It's that fantastic.

The band and the Flames (at this point consisting of Bobby Byrd, Bobby Bennett, and "Baby Lloyd" Stallworth) are onstage and launch into "Out of Sight" with Brown shimmying in from the side on one leg. When he hits center stage and grabs the mic stand it's game time. It's obvious from the first minute of this performance why the Stones didn't want to go on after him and waited more than hour after he was finished to take the stage. The Flames are in total sync, giving Brown a vocal and dancing counterpoint at every beat. The Wrecking Crew's horn section are right there with them. When "Out of Sight" comes to a pause, only start up again with even more propulsion, Brown's already laid out the foundation of musical tension that is about to become funk. He holds back ever so slightly, so that the listener (or dancer) is anticipating the downbeat right before it actually arrives, and when it arrives it's all the more satisfying. Brown was still in R & B territory at this stage, but funk was beginning infect everything he did, making these performances of the songs "Prisoner of Love" and Please, Please, Please" so much more satisfying than their recorded versions.

"Prisoner of Love" is a ballad, but it doesn't feel like one at all- with the Flames alternating with Brown on the title words over and over, until Brown falls to his knees pleading and then screaming, they turn the song into a piece of theater. Everyone hits their mark- everyone onstage has a role. Brown is like the central figure in a Greek tragedy and the Flames are the chorus. Brown seems like he's opening up his chest and throwing his heart on the stage for no other reason than there's an audience in front of him who deserves such a sacrifice.

The theatrical nature of the performance just erupts during "Please, Please, Please." Pleasing, screaming, dropping to his knees on the beat, we are then treated the often imitated, never duplicated scene of Bobby Ray bringing James his cape and walking the exhausted performer offstage, where he can recuperate from giving everything he had to the audience. Brown takes a couple of steps, with Ray and the Flames looking concerned for his well-being (while singing the chorus, of course), throws off the cape and comes back to give more- because he must. They try to lead him off again, and Brown takes almost a full minute to walk four feet, before- wait! No!, He's back! Not only that, but then he breaks in a trotting-dance move singing "PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE" a dozen times in a row before finally bringing it to a close. The only thing that comes close to this as far as excitement goes is Michael Jackson's moonwalk on the Motown 25 special.

Closing it out with a hyped-up version of "Night Train" Brown hasn't even delivered all his tricks yet- call and response from the crowd, maniacal dancing from him and the Flames, the band in overdrive, the splits three different ways, it's just fucking incredible. The audience shots show people going nuts and others with a look on their face that can only be read as "what the fuck is this?" Simply put, it's James Brown for nineteen minutes of pure musical performance perfection and his segment alone would be worth the price of the dvd and the reason everyone should see this.

The Stones are last, and in a nice touch start off with Chuck Berry's "Around and Around." Jagger does some moves that make him look silly for even trying after James Brown, but the crowd is primed for the Stones and Richards and Brian Jones are completely engaged. As the set goes on Jagger loosens up and during "Off the Hook" the band is pretty much back to its own confident self. "Time is On My Side" makes the audience go wild and features a strong performance from Jagger."It's All Over Now" follows, featuring Jagger mugging for the camera and Jones throwing off some pretty nice guitar licks. Richards looks like a happy kid in this set, dancing and bopping his head like he wants to be a Beatle. Jones looks like a superstar. Bill Wyman, playing a really interesting looking bass and already wearing flower power duds, has his stoic stage persona already in place at this early stage of their existence and Charlie Watts looks like he's still having fun being before he simply accepts being the best drummer in all of rock and roll. In other words, it's a great set by the Stones, but they aren't the best thing here, and how many times are the Stones going to be outgunned?

The show closes with the Stones beginning "I'm All Right" alone on stage and then all the dancers pour onto the stage, followed by all of the performers, giving you the chance to see the Stones as the back-up band while James Brown, Chuck Berry, Smokey Robinson, Leslie Gore, Marvin Gaye and Diana Ross all dance in front of them. It's a once in a lifetime close to a once in a lifetime show. It can be summed up by one word- awesome!