New year, new look

So I obviously changed the look of this. I was growing tired of the old format and Blogger's templates are limited. Let me know what you think- either via comments or emailing me through the link to my blogger profile. I'm especially interested in knowing if you now find it difficult to read, or even worse, too Twilighty.

Marching on...

Another year bites the dust, eh?

This blog, now here for almost two years in one guise or another, sometimes feels like a kaleidoscope of people and performances and occasionally the line blurs. Who's performing what and when did this become a stage?  Some names that appeared in the first year are now nowhere to be found, and in the second year new names appeared without explanation. It's a far from perfect world, isn't it?  There is no stable ground, for here we are at play on a fault line, and I wait, certain of the coming quake. I suppose I could move to more solid footing, but by now if I had it in me don't you think I would have done so?  Marching onward.  At least in appearance- reality sometimes reveals the path to be circuitous. Often it leads to where I've been before. Sometimes it seems like an entirely new production and the lights dim, the performance begins and it's only after the final curtain comes down I realize I've seen this show before.

Sometimes I have this dream where I'm alone in a dark, warm theater, watching the empty stage, waiting for the Little Chinese Man to come out and dance.

And there we are. Best wishes to you and yours for the new year and I thank you for reading this beastly thing.

Amusements via google

With a nod to Patrick, these are the most amusing and/or baffling searches leading here in the past 30 days:
beethoven the beast

canibal in the jungel porn

david gockley is a nasty man

dear serbia, please stop making movies

extreme sex in jungle movies

gay jungle voodoo

george of the jungle satanism

is bozo alive

it's all beastiality

i need moovies when pieple start life in jangle

jungle people porn films

la opera rigoletto boobs

man beast sex

movie with people walking into a meat grinder

naked girl in car accident seattle july 2010

rigoletto breasts exposed

sporty sweater

what gay bars in salt lake city did tony geary

"what men think about sex"

"Is bozo alive"? For some reason that's my personal favorite.

Too much bump, not enough grind

Last week Penelope and I went to see Burlesque. Not a show- the movie with Cher and Christina Aguilera. And Stanley Tucci. And Alan Cumming. It would be silly to even bother discussing the plot and bemoaning the lack of originality in the script's characters, dialogue and story. You're supposed to know all that going in, and at best hope to be surprised if just one of those elements surpasses the banality inherent to the movie's premise. Spoiler: there are no surprises to be found here. Everything is pretty much what you expect. Except for one very important thing.

The movie is made by hacks who have absolutely zero imagination. Which is too bad because Christina, Cher and Stanley are all great pleasures to watch. Cumming is just wasted here- I have to imagine he had some scenes left on the cutting room floor- why else would he have agreed to do this for such little screen time? Aguilera is especially good in this.

What keeps Burlesque from being great ala Chicago is the movie is essentially Chicago if Roxie had walked into the club that night and stayed put. From the moment Aguilera walks in the door everything is pretty much a done deal. That's certainly enough to make it entertaining, in some spots in a really big way, but the filmmakers, of which the most guilty of ineptitude being writer/director Steve Antin (the guy behind the Pussycat Dolls), have zero imagination to make the material something more and can't use the formidable talent he has on hand to any great effect.

Before her big number "You Haven't Seen the Last of Me" Cher asks for a spotlight and then sings the entire song in the dark. Seriously- and without even one interesting camera angle. Three minutes of Cher and they can't figure out a way to make her look interesting nor craft one moment of iconic celluloid from the scene. In fact that's a problem with the entire film. There is almost nothing visually interesting about it all- no images that freeze in the mind and make the viewer go "Ah! That's Burlesque!" We have seen all of this before.

The smallest responsibility for that may rest with Aguilera, who is a true talent but doesn't look especially unique. If she were standing next to me on the street in regular clothes I wouldn't even recognize her. It's hard to create an iconic look with an average beauty- but if Rob Marshall could do it numerous scenes with Rene Zellweger, Antin should have been able to do it all over the place with Aguilera. Seems the best Antin can do is make an extended Pussycat Dolls video. There's a lot wasted talent on the ever-expanding (?) stage we never get to know in any way.

Still it's a fun, solid B movie.

RIP Teena Marie

This was always my favorite song of hers....

Crappy Holidays!

I stole this picture from Hudin's blog, because I just had to, and he has the backstory on this curious holiday tradition from Catalonia.

Wouldn't you love to see this in the center of the Westfield Mall?

Not another Serbian Film- this is the Life and Death of a Porno Gang

Saturday night I passed up an invitation from the Greek to go to some holiday parties in order to catch the last night of Go to Hell for the Holidays: Horror in December, presented by Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. I'm almost reluctant to write about Life and Death of a Porno Gang (Zivot i smrt porno bande), because one, it's so bleak; two, many of its thematic elements and plot points are similar to that of A Serbian Film that in some ways it feels like revisiting the same place from a different vantage point, and yet the difference between the two could be the subject of a long discussion in and of itself, which in a way is the post I want to write but I may save that for another gray day (and after the holidays, I think).

What do A Serbian Film and Life and Death of Porno Gang have in common?  On the surface, both are about making films, porn films to be exact, that turn into snuff films; the protagonists make choices driven by extremely limited economic options; they end up being pawns of people with power (largely derived from authority structures associated with the State) which crush them without mercy; the lack of options for artists within Serbia and the effects of the Balkan wars on the Serbian psyche ride right beneath the surface of both films at all times except for the lengthy segments in each where they are the storyline itself, either tacitly or explicitly. Finally, both use violence and sex, beyond what most people have likely seen before in a film, as the means of delivering their message to the audience and to illustrate the lives of the film's characters.

But these are two very different films. Porno Gang looks and feels like Lars von Triers' Breaking the Waves, though I remember reading somewhere that it owed a debt to Bonnie and Clyde, which I think is another apt comparison. Ultimately it's as grim as Breaking the Waves, though there are many humorous moments in the first half or so, especially in the early films we are shown created by Marko (Mihajlo Jovanovic), the lead character who forms the gang and takes it on the road to small villages to perform "Porno Cabaret" unlike anything the villagers have ever seen before.

Writer and director Mladen Djordjevic isn't pulling any punches. When a German journalist shows up in their camp one day, he explains to Marko how not only did he love the excitement of being on the front lines of the Balkan wars, there was also a lucrative market in filming the murders, rapes and beheadings he witnessed. Now such events are harder to film, but the market is still there. So are people who are so desperate they are willing to be the victims in snuff films to provide money for their families. He knows how to find them and will pay Marko's band a lot of money to kill them on camera- if they can combine sex with it so much the better as that will be even more lucrative.

Marko pitches the idea to the gang, who have their own sources of desperation they are unlikely to ever escape, and they are willing to take the step.

The victims tell their stories to the camera before getting killed, including a soldier whose guilt over what he did in the war has overwhelmed him and a grandfather who hopes the money from the film will pay to help his granddaughter, who has been horribly disfigured from uranium released in bombs. These scenes are as moving as they are disturbing.

One by one the gang, which started with ten ebullient, joyous members on a mission to live their lives out loud and spread the joy of sex, is whittled down to just two- Marko and Una (Ana Acimovic) who decide to go out in a decidedly inglorious way, that feels inevitable though still resonates with a disturbing sense of hopelessness.

It's unlikely Porno Gang will be released in the states without at least one cut- last I heard bestiality on film was still a hard line in the sand as far as the U.S. goes, but if you have an appetite for cinema at the edge, I think it's worth seeking out. At least I think so- Chad, having just watched ASF the week before, was a bit desensitized to the quieter, much less horrific Porno Gang, and didn't really care for it, as it was for Mike C., who wasn't impressed by it either. There were however, three women seated in front of me who felt differently. One walked out at the first act of animal cruelty (which looked terribly real and probably was) and another spent most of the remainder of the film with her hands in front of her eyes. Upon leaving the theater I overheard one man say, "Now all they need to do is pair that with A Serbian Film for the ultimate feel-bad double feature." That's about right.

One last note/question: if someone can explicate on the dates that appear in the movie, or provide a link to a timeline of the end of the Milosevic era, it would be appreciated.

Best of a Beast: 2010

Looking back on the year's performances I realized it wasn't a good year for Bay Area theater, but it was a great year for LA Opera, which claimed three spots in the top ten. SFJazz is also on a roll, which presented two shows on the list. Overall I saw about the same number of performances as in 2009, and the mix of what ended up in the Top 10 is similar to last year's, though not by design. This year the list is ranked, starting with the best. The links will take you to the original post.

1. The Los Angeles Opera Ring Cycle, directed by Achim Freyer
    Visionary and thought provoking, this was Wagner for the 21st Century, and truer to the composer's idea of Gesamkunstwerk than any production I've ever seen or read about.

2. San Francisco Opera's Věc Makropulos
    A perfect match of artist and material, with all the supporting pieces perfectly in place made this the most talked about production San Francisco Opera has staged in years, and justifiably so.

3. Lulu at the Met:
    I never posted about this, as I saw it in the midst of a whirlwind trip through 5 states in 2 weeks back in May, but this was outstanding on every level. Marlis Petersen as Lulu was sensationally decadent and gave Berg's anti heroine an amazing depth. Anne Sofie von Otter's Countess Geschwitz and James Morris' Dr. Schön were also incredible. The conducting by Fabio Luisi was  superb. Everything about this was, in a word, perfect.

4. Esperanza Spalding at Davies Symphony Hall
    A spellbinding, phenomenal performance by a young artist who seems destined to have a major impact on the world of music far beyond jazz.

5. John Adams and the San Francisco Symphony  
    The performances of Harmonielehre and El Niño, with Michael Tilson Thomas conducting the former and the composer taking the helm for the latter proved three things without a doubt: the San Francisco Symphony is performing at its peak right now and has never sounded better; John Adams is a genius; the relationship between the two, now more than 25 years old, must be considered one of the most fruitful collaborations of our time.

6. LA Opera's Il Postino
    No one thought this opera was going to stink more than I did. When the reviews came out unanimously praising it, I had to go see for myself what all the fuss was about. Still skeptical as I took my seat, when it was over I wished I could see it again. Even though it was written for Domingo, this has the goods to stick around for a long time after the legend has called it a day. An accessible, beautiful, contemporary work and a great production.

7. LA Opera's The Stigmatized
    LA Opera's Recovered Voices programming has put some truly memorable productions on the stage in the past couple of years and this was one of the best. Sadly, the program has disappeared from next year's schedule. Let's hope this is only temporary, as productions like these of operas that have been neglected for too long here in the U.S. finally see the light of day. NB, this was no novelty, but as deserving to be seen and heard as anything else that appeared on any major house's schedule in the past year. Brubaker and Silja were fantastic- and Conlon was again in peak form.

8. San Francisco Opera's Die Walkure
    Perhaps the most aurally satisfying experience of the year, which more than made up for the nonsense and creepy perversity onstage.

9. Lila Downs at Herbst
    You should have been there. If you weren't, don't miss her the next time.

10. Antibalas at the Great American Music Hall
      This band from New York is an incendiary experience of funk, Afro-funk, and so much more, but none of that really matters. They tore it up in legendary fashion for more than two hours, if for nothing else simply for the sheer joy of doing so, and simply because they could.

Other notable performances:

Christopher Wheeldon's Ghosts performed by the San Francisco Ballet
Vasily Petrenko conducting the San Francisco Symphony
The Burroughs and Kookie Show: Late Night in the Interzone
Hardly Strictly Bluegrass

With thanks and gratitude to Penelope, the Femme Fatale, Maria Gostrey, Chad Newsome, CC, GG, Madame Merle, the Swedes elder and younger, the Greek, Miss Trixie, Ann Enigma, Axel, Patrick, the OT, A Naturalized Southerner, La Divinavila, Dr. Hank, Craig, Reid and the Minister's Rebellious Daughter for doing it with me.

San Francisco Opera's 2010 season in review

Last year when San Francisco Opera's fall season ended I willingly ate some crow- while the season looked like a complete bore on paper, it wound up being one of the most enjoyable seasons the company had put on in years. This year the results were a mixed bag and since the star power was somewhat diminished compared to last year, this season didn't hold much promise beyond Mattila in Makropulos and the return of Domingo as Cyrano. That turned out to be the case as there were few surprises. I'm going to include last summer's "season" because it makes sense- the summer operas end about 10 weeks before the fall season starts and begin more than 6 months after the fall season closes so the whole 2009/2010 and 2010/2011 season designations are illogical and stupid. Besides, including the summer operas make the season look better than it really was. Below, in order, is my take on SFO in 2010, ranked in order, starting with the best. The links will take you to my original posts:

The Makropulos Case: Karita Mattila singing Janacek just may the best pairing of a singer and composer in today's opera world. Her previous turns as Jenufa and Katya Kabanova raised expectations pretty high for her debut as Emilia Marty and she exceeded them beyond measure. A stunning production all the way around, this was without doubt the best thing I saw on any local stage in the past year.

Die Walkure:  I'm not a fan of Francesa Zambello's vision for Wagner's Ring Cycle, but if you closed your eyes, this was as good as it gets. The singers, led by an incendiary Nina Stemme as Brunnhilde, were simply fantastic and the orchestra under former Music Director Donald Runnicles never sounded better. Even though the staging was ridiculous and downright creepy at times, this was a musical triumph, worth hearing again when it returns this summer.

The Girl of the Golden West:  Deborah Voigt came out West this past summer to practice Minnie before debuting it at the Met this month. That was lucky for us. Musical Director Nicola Luisotti, a champion of this lesser-known Puccini opera, delivered his best work in the pit so far in what was for me the season's biggest surprise.

Cyrano De Bergerac: The return of Placido Domingo to the War Memorial stage after a long absence was greeted with anticpation and sold out performances. Nobody was really looking forward to the opera itself, but Domingo didn't disappoint and with a very strong assist by Ainhoa Arteta as Roxanne, a beautiful production borrowed from  Theatre du Chatelet, and good work from the orchestra under Patrick Fournillier, this didn't disappoint on any level, except that it wasn't Il Postino.

Werther: This production had three things going for it: guest conductor Emmanuel Villaume led the orchestra in one of the most luxuriant performances I've ever heard in the house; Ramon Vargas was hit and miss, but when he hit it, it went soaring; Heidi Stober, in the smaller role of Sophie, was fabulous. On the downside, after two lackluster performances, the interest Alice Coote generated here with her performance in Alcina years ago all but evaporated for me. The production itself was a puzzle, only succeeding at select moments.

Aida: I seem to be one of the few who thought this production to be fine for what it was- a traditional production of Verdi's warhorse designed to put butts in seats. Perhaps I enjoyed it because of low expectations, but on the whole I found it to be well-done.  I only saw the first cast, and heard the second one was better. It wasn't anything more than a pleasant night at the opera, but when is that a bad thing?

Faust: This was so boring and unexciting I barely remember seeing it, much less what I didn't like about it. Not even a decent cast could save this one.

Madama Butterfly: This was one of the worst nights at the opera I've ever experienced, which may only be rivalled by the disastrous Otello of 2002. Seriously, it was awful. Even The Fly wasn't this bad.

Le Nozze di Figaro: While I somewhat regret missing the local debut of Danielle de Niese, this same production was here just four years ago. Why would I want to see it again? Because it's Mozart? That will work for some folks, but I'm not one of them. I took a pass on this one.

Final grade? C. One unqualified triumph. Two legendary performances from Mattila and Stemme. Three really good runner-ups. Compared to last year, not so great. From what I've read, next year doesn't look to be any better, but I've been wrong before. We'll see what's coming in January. Still, the Ring Cycle this summer promises to be a feast for the ears, if not the eyes, and I'm looking forward to it.

Hodges plays Stockhausen and Beethoven

This afternoon on the Berkeley campus British pianist Nicolas Hodges performed one of the more challenging programs in recent memory- Karlheinz Stockhausen's Klaviersück X (Piano Piece No. 10) and Beethoven's Hammerklavier sonata, Op.106. The first was composed in 1954 and revised in 1961, the latter composed in 1818. One common element of both works is the desire of the composers to expand the boundaries of what can be performed on piano. Another is the sheer challenge of playing them. The attempt alone drew a curious audience, which seemed equally split on which piece held the greater interest.

Hodges walked onstage, took a brief bow, sat down at the bench and began to play immediately. This was all business- no show. It wasn't necessary. Klaviersück X is extreme in its demands. Hodges, wearing fingerless gloves, played with his forearms, elbows, and palms as well as with his fingers. Stockhausen repeats nothing in the piece, there is no form in sense the listener may expect to hear (this listener, at least), as in sonata form, but form nevertheless arises amid the chaos and the quiet and the work takes on a definite shape as it unfolds, explodes and finally implodes over 20 some-odd minutes. Most impressive were the reverberations emanating from the piano, which created electronically-tinged sounds I never knew the instrument could make. I've never heard it before, and after hearing it I'm not sure a recording could do it proper justice. I would say it needs to be experienced in a live performance to grasp, at least initially. Having no prior experience with it, I can't say how well it was performed, but I will say unequivocally it was quite thrilling to hear.

The Hammerklavier didn't fare as well for me. This work I know. The Allegro, Scherzo and Largo/Fugue movements were all played incredibly fast. Too fast methinks, as the notes began to spill over one another, eventually starting to land in a jumble. The tempo in which Hodges chose to play the piece isn't the problem for me, but rather the speed caused the piece to lose its one of its most amazing elements- a distinct flow of individual notes which seem to endlessly cascade over one another, twisting themselves into forming melodies and lines they have no right to create. The Hammerklavier is like a Richter painting- it shouldn't really make sense but it's all right there in front of you once the design reveals itself. I didn't get that from Hodges' interpretation, except for the adagio, which seemed bent so far in the other direction, played with such a deliberate slowness, that the it almost seemed on the verge of collapsing at times. Playing all four movements at their margins, Hodges seemed to be choosing style and execution over thoughtful interpretation.

Still, programming like this is to be commended, appreciated, and in the end, applauded. Hodges succeeded in connecting the threads between two seemingly disparate musical pioneers. I look forward to his next Bay Area appearance. This one was part of Cal Performances, who have a ridiculous amount of great things to see and hear this year.

The bloggers were out in force for this one, even though there was a pretty enticing program going on at Davies at the same time. Patrick, Axel, the Opera Tattler, the Last Chinese Unicorn and Joshua Kosman were all in attendance. After the show, Patrick and I repaired to Jupiter for pizza, beer, discussion and debate. One thing we both agreed on: the banality of both Terry Jacks' "Seasons in the Sun" and Pink Floyd's "The Wall."

LA Opera's Rigoletto

I was going to skip seeing Rigoletto in LA while I was down there to see Lohengrin, mostly because of the cost and I'd seen the production when it was here in SF a few years back. Then my grandmother told me that LAO had invited a bunch of seniors to a dress rehearsal and she seemed to regret not going. Then LAO sent out a survey and after finishing it I was pleased to get a 50% off code to buy tickets to any performance. So with that fortuitous bit of good luck I took my 97 year old grandmother to her first opera. She only slept through about ten minutes of the first act and no, I didn't wake her up.

Photos: Robert Millard

LAO has a winner here. This is the best Rigoletto I've seen. Conductor James Conlon lit the orchestra on fire, which is especially impressive after leading them in a gorgeous performance the night before. We were seated in the second row of the orchestra, giving me a mostly clear shot at watching him lead- and it was interesting to watch him conduct and sing along through most of the score. The cast is first rate: as Rigoletto, George Gagnidze was in fine voice, but equally important, he brought an actor's sensibility to the role without going overboard. An operatic anti-hero if there ever was one, Gagnidze's hunchbacked jester evoked disdain for everyone around him yet still came through as sympathetic. With the exception of King Philip in Don Carlo, Rigoletto is Verdi's most nuanced character and can be hard to capture and Gagnidze's portrayal is a memorable one.

As his daughter Gilda, Sarah Coburn sang beautifully and evoked the innocence the character needs with ease. Unfortunately the audience began to applaud before "Caro nome" was finished, but she wasn't thrown by it. Andrea Silvestrelli's Sparafucile was creepy and slimy, but his voice lacked menace. There was something unconvincing about to me, but the audience responded very positively to him at the curtain. Kendall Gladen was fine, especially in the quartet. Daniel Sumegi's Count Monterone was also well-sung.

As the Duke, Gianluca Terranova was the most believable I've seen in the role yet. Dashing, good-looking, with a voice that validates the hype he's been getting lately, Terranova is a singer to keep your eye out for. If he has a tendency to sing to the audience more than than to the other characters onstage, I'm going to write that off to director Mark Lamos. He sang everything as passionately as he did "La Donna Mobile" and didn't go over the top on what may be the best known aria ever written.

The set worked better here than it did in SF, perhaps because this production felt grittier. From the opening scene at the Duke's ball, where women in masks and exposed breasts gave the scene a salaciousness it lacked previously, the tilted walls and darkly-lit doorways suggest treachery lurks just out of sight and creates a sense of claustrophobia that Gilda and Rigoletto experience in different ways. Garish lighting by Mark McCullough only added to the effect. The chorus was excellent, as were Constance Hoffman's costumes.

The lecture by Conlon was packed. I enjoyed it immensely but after it was over my grandmother wondered why he had to tell us the whole story. Don't listen to her- Conlon's a wealth of erudite, interesting information and if you have the time beforehand his lectures are well worth attending.

There are two more performances on December 15 and 18. And my grandmother really enjoyed it. She said she'd go again.

In the holiday Meat Grinder

Saturday night in the City. Holiday season is in full effect. Penelope is at the beach. The Femme is stuck in her castle. The Swede is on holiday in Syria, the Greek's gone MIA, the Minister's Rebellious Daughter is nowhere to be found and the only two people who would go see a nasty Thai flick about cannibalism ala Sweeney Todd are my next door neighbor who can't get out of a holiday party (perhaps she was just being kind) and la Divinavila, who is in L.A.. Fuck it, I'm still going, but the trek to the theater forces me to walk through the hordes downtown, tens of thousands of oblivious out-of-towners and tourists who move in slow, meandering packs weighed down by bags from Old Navy, a general sense of stupor and their obvious, oblivious awe and uncomfortableness at finding themselves in an actual City for a change. There are couples and groups and I'm consciously aware that I'm on my own, headed to see a movie called Meat Grinder. Ho ho ho.

I arrive at the venue. There's a big party going on downstairs. An usher asks me "Are you here for the Nutcracker?" I reply in the negative. I'm here to see the movie. It's supposed to start in 10 minutes.

She looks puzzled. She tells me the movie is upstairs but they haven't told her to let anyone up yet. She directs to someone who should have an answer. Turns out I'm the first one there. I get my ticket and a guy comes out and lets me into the upstairs theater. It's small, and completely empty. It stays empty, except for me, for at least another five minutes. I open up my package of Red Vines, bought at a Walgreen's on Market St.. I think I should be in a grindhouse. Why did the Strand Theater have to close? I'm a middle-aged white guy sitting alone in a theater with Red Vines and a flask on a Saturday night while there are thousands of people within a mile's radius who are shopping for loved ones, dressed up and on their way to holiday parties, celebrating "the season." It's okay- I'm in my natural element. Meat Grinder is part of series of films called Go to Hell for the Holidays and that's something I can appreciate. It's an idea I can get behind after a week where Obama completely punks out and then lets Bill Clinton stand in for him. Talk about disappointing.

Finally someone else walks into the theater, and wouldn't you know it- it's someone I know. Not well, but our jobs used to intersect and I seem to always see him at Patti Smith concerts. We have a mutual friend, Chad, who tipped me off to these screenings and I know it was this guy who told him about it. We chat for a bit about A Serbian Film, which I know via Chad he has a screener copy of which he sent via intercompany mail to a co-worker/friend and it got lost. Can you fucking imagine that? If you don't know what I mean, it's akin to accidentally forwarding a link to a kiddie porn or bestiality website to your friendly, born-again co-worker at a huge corporation via email. Some people have questionable judgement- I'm often one of them. A couple of other people filter in- a lone female who sits on the aisle (and bails about 15 minutes into the movie) and a fat bald guy and his bleach blonde female companion who look like their next stop after the movie is going to be the Power Exchange. The bald guy looks like one of Vukmir's goons in A Serbian Film. I feel like a scuzball just for being in the same place as these two.. A single white guy in his twenties shows up, looking self-conscious, and takes a seat. An Asian guy takes a seat in the row behind me and proceeds to constantly pull stuff from a paper bag loudly. Asshole. Then he proceeds to cough like he has TB. There are now eight of us. The lights go down. My mother had invited me to a family dinner and a boat parade with Christmas lights in Sausalito. I chose this instead. Like I said, my judgement is often questionable. The Asian guy keeps hacking and ruffling through his bag of tricks. I want to smack him, but I don't want TB, so I sit there passively hoping he'll shut the fuck up.

Meat Grinder turns out to be a near miss. The acting is good, the cinematography better, but the narrative of the movie is completely screwed. For horror to be effective, the audience has to undergo a sensation of mounting tension. This movie, which starts with dated footage suggesting the past ala Martyrs, goes back and forth to the point of incoherence. The audience is never really sure where we are in the story, as the idea of crafting a linear plot is anathema to director/writer/editor/cinematographer Tiwa Moeithaisong. It's too bad, because he knows how to create great individual scenes and images, but the whole is a jumbled mess that fails all litmus tests for what makes a great horror film. Or even a good one. At least that's how I saw it from my Western perspective. Perhaps there is something different in Thai culture that makes all of this not only palpable, but acceptable. It's entirely possible. Who am I to judge? I thought The Grudge and it's Japanese original, Ju-on to be barely watchable crap.

The film ends on a note of incoherence, or at least ridiculousness, and my acquaintance remains seated to watch the credits. I bail, wait a few minutes outside to hear his opinion, but decide enough is enough. I make my past the bums bedding down for the night in the doorway of the now vacant Virigin Megastore as shoppers and the bridge and tunnel crowd walk by them and pretend they don't exist. Past the Ferrari store which never has a soul in it but has manged to be there since last year, thinking I'll give my own souls a lift and look at the kittens and puppies in the windows of Macy's but there are just too many damn people there. It's a mob. I walk past the restaurants which are all packed, the couples dressed up for a once-a-year night on the town, the groups of Guidos who somehow manage to take up the entire 10 foot-wide sidewalks and I make my way back home, wondering what the fuck I'm going to eat for dinner. The Paki place across the street from my apartment is packed and I peek in the window see many tables without any food on them. Not an option.


I enter my building, where there is party going on in the lobby, which the HOA rents out for people who want to have a party in an art deco palace. It's not a party I can crash, otherwise I might out of sheer ennui and the desire to get this Bickle-esque taste out of my mouth. In the lobby is a relatively new resident I know and she has a certain hunger in her eyes as she's talking to the doorman/guard. I know that hunger like I know the back of the my hand. She looks at me, and I wonder to myself how many other men who live in this building have felt that weight, the palpable desire, of that particular, distinct gaze. It's too close to home. The elevator opens, I punch the button for my floor. it opens and I stride down the quiet hall to my apartment- the last one on the left. Entering, I'm met with complete indifference by the other occupant- a cat. Now we are current, and the tourists and shoppers should be gone, it's almost 11pm, and now it's time to get something to eat. Ho ho ho.

Update on Sunday morning: The Femme called me this and complained about the darkness of this post. It's really meant to be tongue in cheek- I mean who else but a Travis Bickle type would really go see this kind of stuff during the holiday season? Have a nice day and don't forget to smile.

How low can SFO go?

On Thursday the San Francisco Opera sent out a survey to subscribers. I didn't get one, because I didn't subscribe this year. It seems I wasn't the only one to pass on one the most pedestrian seasons in recent memory. The Opera Tattler published three of the questions, and I think two of them are worth dissecting because they are surveys of the what the audience wants to see onstage. I've sorted the operas alphabetically by composer and added the last year it was performed in the house.  In case anyone is interested in how I would have answered, I've put my votes in italics.

Question five:  To help us plan for future seasons, please indicate which of the following operas you would be extremely interested in attending in the next five years. Please check all that apply.

Wait a minute! Out of the 30 operas they listed, 23 of them have been performed at SFO in the last 10 years AND 16 HAVE BEEN PERFORMED IN THE LAST FIVE! Why the hell should anyone be "extremely interested" in seeing them again? when we just. fucking. saw them???

Nixon in China (Adams)
Norma (Bellini) 2005
The Trojans (Berlioz) 1968
Carmen (Bizet) 2011/ 2006
Peter Grimes (Britten) 1998
Lucia di Lammermoor (Donizetti) 2008
Porgy and Bess (Gershwin) 2009
Cavalleria rusticana (Mascagni) 2003
Così fan tutte (Mozart) 2005
The Marriage of Figaro (Mozart) 2010
The Magic Flute (Mozart) 2007
Don Giovanni (Mozart) 2007
Tales of Hoffmann (Offenbach) 1996
La Bohème (Puccini) 2008
Tosca (Puccini) 2009
Madama Butterfly (Puccini) 2010
Turandot (Puccini) 2011/2002
The Barber of Seville (Rossini) 2006
Der Rosenkavalier (R. Strauss) 2007
Die Frau ohne Schatten (R. Strauss) 1989
Elektra (R. Strauss) 1997
Rigoletto (Verdi) 2006
Il Trovatore (Verdi) 2009
Aida (Verdi) 2010
La Traviata (Verdi) 2009
A Masked Ball (Verdi) 2006
Falstaff (Verdi) 2001
Die Meistersinger (Wagner) 2001
The Flying Dutchman (Wagner) 2004
Lohengrin (Wagner) 1996

Question Six: To help us plan for future seasons, please indicate which of the following works you WOULD CONSIDER ATTENDING. Please check all that apply.

I Puritani (Bellini) 1993
I Capuleti e i Montecchi (Bellini) 1991
Mefistofele (Boito) 1994
West Side Story (Bernstein)
Florencia en el Amazonas (Daniel Catán)
Adriana Lecouvreur (Cilea) 1985
Lucrezia Borgia (Donizetti)
Rusalka (Dvořák) 1995
Susannah (Carlisle Floyd) 1964
Andrea Chenier (Giordano) 1992
Ainadamar (Osvaldo Golijov)
Julius Caesar (Handel) 2002
Xerxes (Handel)
Moby Dick (Jake Heggie)
Jenůfa (Janáček) 2001
From the House of the Dead (Janáček)
Show Boat (Jerome Kern)
Pagliacci (Leoncavallo) 2003
Manon (Massenet) 1998
Don Quichotte (Massenet) 1990
Cendrillon (Massenet) 1982
Carmina Burana (Orff) 1971
The Dialogues of the Carmelites (Poulenc) 1982
Mosè in Egitto (Rossini)
La Cenerentola (Rossini) 2003
Les Misérables (Claude-Michel Schönberg)
Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk (Shostakovich) 2003
Sweeney Todd (Stephen Sondheim)
King Roger (Szymanowski)
Eugene Onegin (Tchaikovsky) 2004
Attila (Verdi) 1991
Ernani (Verdi) 1984
Nabucco (Verdi) 1999
The Portrait (Weinberg)

Really? No Berg in this list? No Saariaho? No Zemlinksi? Three Massenets? WTF.

The OT said in a response to a comment I left on her post, "many of the operas listed are co-productions we are committed to (Moby-Dick, I Capuleti e i Montecchi, Adriane Lecouvreur, and Mefistofele among them). Attila, Carmen, Don Giovanni, Turandot, and Xerxes will all likely be in next season."

Oh dear, the next couple of seasons are already looking pretty dreary. I hope the have some pretty big names lined up to stir up interest in what to me looks mostly like moldy, second-tier-and-falling standard rep.

There was another question which asked the responder to name up to five operas they would like to see in the near future. My choices would be:

Wozzeck (Berg) 1998
Lulu (Berg) 1999
Emilie (Saariaho)
Die Soldaten (Zimmerman)
Andrea Chenier (Giordano) 1992

But as fan of the art, I would consider attending any of those listed in question 6 except Les Miz, which I think would be better served by SHN's Best of Broadway, and Carmina Burana, which just sounds like a dumb idea. The ones would I be "extremely interested" in attending are those without dates listed next to them, followed by those which haven't been performed since the year 2000 (plus a couple of personal favorites- see the italics), and then the musicals, which I've previously stated is a good idea. SFO, you are welcome for that idea, by the way.

I'm not sure who compiled the list of operas and what SFO intends to do with the results, but at a time when Gockley himself has declared SFO to be "at the precipice," if this is really what they're thinking of doing, and this is the chosen path to renew interest in subscriptions and put more people back in the seats, well, as Madame Merle would say, "Game over, man!" Ugh!

Lohengrin in LA

LA Opera's current production of Lohengrin looks like it's had some trouble finding an audience. When General Chang and I went to go see it last Saturday night the back rows of the orchestra were completely empty. It was a shocking, dismaying sight. I discussed this with a couple of gentlemen seated near us, one of whom expressed embarrassment that the LAO audience decided to largely bail on this one. Too bad, because  they're missing out on a solid production and cast for one of Wagner's best operas and four hours of musical glory from James Conlon and the LAO orchestra, which never sounded better to me than they did that night.

I was expecting (and hoping for) a much wilder, regie-esque production from director Lydia Steier, who's worked with the notorious Calixto Bieito and the visionary Achim Freyer, but with the exception of not having a swan in sight, this is a straightforward, no-nonsense production which sets the story in WWI to great effect. The cast has three superlative leads- Ben Heppner is the title character, a knight of the Grail seeking an unquestioning love. A signature role for Heppner, I've heard he's had off moments during this run but on this night he was in fine, if not robust, voice. He impressed me on two levels- his complete comfort in the role and his ability to make his voice heard at every point, remaining a distinct presence which even stood out crystal-clear during the robust chorus scenes.

Soile Isokoski's Elsa was the evening's greatest pleasure. Her voice is pure gold and she expresses the quandary of Elsa's plight convincingly. Dolora Zajick, who received the evening's loudest applause, was fantastic as Ortrud, but I thought the audience response to her a bit overdone as she fit well within the ensemble and Isokoski was as good if not better. Perhaps this crowd was applauding what they've read, not what they heard? The other principals, Kristinn Sigmundsson  as King Heinrich and James Johnson as the hapless Telramund also made great contributions to the whole, as did the chorus.

It's really quite inexplicable why people are avoiding this one. It's an intelligent, well-designed and performed production of standard rep and some of the greatest music you'll ever hear. I believe there is one more performance left and heavily discounted tickets are available for it.

Prior to the show the General and I had dinner at First & Hope, which did us right with some great food and drink. My first visit here left me ambivalent at best, but my return left me a fan.

John Adams and the San Francisco Symphony

Since I'm so behind with updating this Beast I'm going to do a twofer here, which is appropriate because the concerts I'm writing about are part of the San Francisco Symphony's Project San Francisco program featuring the work of John Adams. Last Thursday night Chad Newsome and I experienced the return of El Niño. Tonight the Femme Fatale and I heard a miraculous Harmonielehre. Had I not been flying down to LA the next night I would have definitely returned to hear El Niño again. Since I have no plans this Friday I've decided to hear Harmonielehre again. Yes, it's that good- get yourself a ticket and get ready to be spellbound.

I'd never heard Harmonielehre performed live before, which is to say that since I live in an apartment and respect my neighbors I've never really heard it at all. It's loud. It's thunderous. It's like the vision which inspired Adams- a tanker steaming full speed ahead through the Bay that all of a sudden becomes airborne. I was recently thinking about all of those people shelling out $275 to see Roger Waters perform The Wall (sorry folks- I saw it twice in 1980- accept no David Gilmore-less substitutes) - they could have attended this for a fraction of the cost and heard some much better music that rocks equally hard.

Harmonielehre is around forty minutes long is broken into three movements. The first, which is untitled, begins with an extremely loud (the orchestra for this piece is huge), propulsive fit of rhythm wherein Adams acknowledges his minimalist tendencies of his past and decides to completely blow it off- and blow it up. Deeply absorbing the work of Sibelius strained through Glass, Riech and Cage, there are hypnotic repetitions which eventually dissolve into something slower, more meditative, without ever really letting go of the idea that harmony is something that can be felt as well as heard. How Tilson-Thomas kept the orchestra so in tune, so perfectly synchronized, was something of a small miracle here.

The second movement, called "The Anfortas Wound," refers not to a stab in the side, but one to the balls which won't heal. And it hurts. Starting slowly, it builds into an agonizing climax so involving that MTT got so caught up in it he smacked his baton against the score and the stick went flying behind him into the front row, causing him to lose his place in the score and for a moment he was furiously flipping pages back and forth to find his place while never losing control of the orchestra. MTT- nicely done! Never let them see you sweat!

The third part is entitled "Meister Eckhardt and Quackie." I'm not going to explain what that means- read the program notes before it begins for an explanation- but halfway through this part is where the realization struck me, becoming that involuntary "wow" moment where one realizes that what's unfolding in front of you, what you're hearing, is something unique and special, putting an involuntary smile on your face which stays stuck there for the rest of the piece. The  massive violin section is playing at full-bore, the horns are just fucking phenomenal and the percussion section is pounding it out like they're John Bonham.

You want to know more? There are three more performances.

The first half of the concert was good, but rendered almost meaningless by what followed. The orchestra performed Henry Cowell's modernist Synchrony, which gave trumpeter Mark Inouye some really shining moments and ends in a kind of Dies Irae/Scary Monster Music climax, followed by the fresh air of Mozart's 5th Violin Concerto, in which the always entertaining Gil Shaham was the soloist. The Mozart was a bit brisk for my liking, and Shaham did his impish "I'm a part of everything" bit as he shamelessly mugged for MTT, the orchestra and the audience by turns. I think next year he'll be onstage with Jeremy Denk and the girl who plays the cello like she's Pete Townsend in Beethoven's Triple Concerto. I'll see it just to see who falls off the stage first as they try to out-do one another in histrionics. It will be Bring it On- the classical music version.

So backing up and catching up, Chad and I ditched our company holiday party last Thursday and made our way over to the hall to hear El Niño. As I mentioned earlier, the debut of this piece in 2001 had a profound and lasting impact on me. It's remained one of my favorite concert experiences through the years-  something completely unforgettable on many levels and I was eager to experience it again. Last week's version was so different from what I saw and heard in 2001 it felt like an entirely different work. That's a good thing because my interest in El Niño wasn't nostalgic- I wanted to know what the work contained that enthralled me so much the first time- not necessarily to re-experience it.

The difficult thing is that so much has changed in my own life since then and I have to weigh that against the very significant changes made to the work as it appeared then versus now. What's objective? The first experience was conducted by Kent Nagano and featured film and dancers choreographed by Peter Sellars. It also had Lorraine Hunt-Lieberson in the cast for the world premiere. From what I've read, I was one of the few who found the film to be an integral, deeply moving part of the work. Maybe because I grew up in LA and not only recognized the locations in the film but was profoundly touched by the images it conveyed of Joseph and Mary as desperate yet hopeful Latino immigrants on the overcast beaches of Southern California. The dancers didn't work for me, but the film certainly did. When I walked out of the hall that night I felt a communion with people I'd never experienced before and have never felt since. It was that powerful.

Fast forward 9 years. Dump the divisive film and the dancers. Lorraine Hunt-Lieberson is dead. The 90's are well over and the U.S. has been at war for ten years and the country is as polarized as it's ever been. Adams is now the conductor and the magnificent Michelle DeYoung steps into Hunt-Lieberson's big shoes. Is anything the same now as it was in 2001? Are you the same as you were then?

The brilliance of the score is indisputable. Adams has crafted a contemporary oratorio on the birth of Jesus that can confidently stand next to anything in the canon. It's a masterpiece on so many levels. Dawn Upshaw returns as Mary and is flawless. Flawless! DeYoung makes the part her own through vocal perfection and a stage presence that exceeds that of Hunt-Lieberson, though I suspect few will give this tremendous singer her due in this particular role. Jonathan Lemalu takes over the role of Joseph and it works on every level. Steven Rickards, Brian Cummings, and Daniel Bubeck reprise their roles, angels clad in white, like three countertenors who just strode off a tennis court, to perfection.

Adams has difficulties navigating the behemoth, as he writes about on his own blog, but he does better than he thinks. He keeps this music alive in ways one couldn't expect. Nagano brought out the hope in the score but Adams brings out the doubt which is so appropriate to this time and place. He had to work harder at it, but the result was a performance that didn't confirm a miracle, but left the audience wondering if such things were really possible. It was intense.

As I told some people after the show, in 2001 after seeing this I left with a feeling that my hand had opened itself to the world and myriad possibilities. Nine years later, I felt my hand had become a fist, reluctant to let go of what I knew, in a world that has slowly closed in upon itself.

That's art, and these concerts will be on my year-end top ten list. 

A notable lack of performance anxiety

Once in awhile I think it would be interesting to move back to LA because it's become such a vibrant place in the past 10 to 15 years, at least as far as the performing arts are concerned. Then I hear about what the SF Symphony has planned for next year and that Berkeley is going to be the only West Coast stop for Einstein on the Beach in 2012 and I'm reminded of why I love living here so much.

Yeah, New York is always going to be Mecca for the arts, but at least it never snows here.

Einstein on the Beach, courtesy of pomegranate arts, copyright/photo by T. Charles Erickson 1992

Big news about the SF Symphony's centennial

Yesterday the San Francisco Symphony invited some donors, journalists, and bloggers to hear about their plans for their centennial season coming up next year. John Adams and Mason Bates were also in the audience as Michael Tilson Thomas and Brent Assink revealed some of what's coming next year. The big news is another American Mavericks festival, visits to SF during the season by the top orchestras of the U.S., and a semi-staged Barbary Coast Music Festival (I'm hoping this is something like The Tomashevskys with hookers and scoundrels).

American Mavericks 2012 will have new works commissioned by SFS from Adams and Bates. The Adams piece is called Absolute Jest and is described as "the world's longest scherzo," based on fragments of Beethoven scherzos, particularly from the late string quartets. The St. Lawrence String Quartet will be performing the piece with the orchestra. Just the idea makes me want to hear this. Bates' work is called Mass Transmission and is scored for electronica and chorus. Mass Transmission will, according to Bates, "place emblems of found sounds from earth that have been captured electronically side-by-side with scraps of a shattered hypothetical mass made up of excerpts of sacred human texts." I wonder if there will be an accompanying film featiring apes and a monolithic black slab. Bates credits the inspiration for his new work to the "Gemini in the Solar Wind" movement of his SFS commission The B-Sides, which utilized recordings from NASA. Others to be involved include Jeremy Denk performing Henry Cowell's Piano Concerto, Jessye Norman working with Meredith Monk on John Cage's Songbooks and Emannuel Ax performing Morton Feldman’s Piano and Orchestra. Works by Ruggles, Varese, Copland and Ives will also be revisited. I'm really looking forward to this since I missed the first American Mavericks entirely because Penelope and I were driving around France at the time.

The American Orchestra Series is definitely big news. Next year will feature two concerts, of which one will feature a work commissioned by each orchestra. The participants are The Boston Symphony Orchestra, led by James Levine; the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Riccardo Muti; The Cleveland Orchestra, led by Franz Welser-Möst; the Los Angeles Philharmonic, led by  Gustavo Dudamel; the New York Philharmonic, with Alan Gilbert, and the Philadelphia Orchestra, with Charles Dutoit.


Little was said about the Barbary Coast Festival, but Tilson-Thomas promises something big, along the lines of "last night at the Proms."


An unexpected highlight of the event came when Jeff Dunn of San Francisco Classical Voice asked MTT to defend including Copland as an American Maverick. MTT, who had laryngitis, looked almost apoplectic upon hearing the question. After a measured silence, he answered Dunn politely, but I could swear from where I sat it looked like what MTT really wanted to say was "go fuck yourself."


We'll have to wait until March 1st for the rest of it, but judging by what's planned so far, it looks like the centennial season is going to be quite a celebration.

A brief note on El Nino

Due to the nefarious machinations of Colombian landlords, my access to the internet while I'm in LA this weekend is limited to a computer difficult for me to use at length. I wanted to write about seeing El Nino, but not having the resources to write at length, let me just say this is a far different experience than when the piece debuted in 2001. Darker and more mystical, it's a compelling, very intense evening of music. There is one more performance tonight- if you haven't seen it yet, I highly recommend you don't miss it.

Beastly Profile: Michelle DeYoung

Michelle DeYoung is in town to take part in the return of John Adams' El Niño - a contemporary masterpiece that made its debut here nine years ago with SFS. She was gracious enough to be the subject of the first Beastly Profile. DeYoung has appeared in many of the world's leading opera houses and halls and she is without doubt one of the finest singers currently performing onstage. She's sung on two Grammy-winning recordings, includingMTT and the San Francisco Symphony's  Mahler's Third.

I wrote to her with ten questions, and here are her responses:

You're here to sing in John Adams' El Niño, which is at least the second time you've performed it with the composer conducting. Did Adams seek you out for the part?
Michelle DeYoung: I do think that Adams asks for me, although there are a couple of others that also sing this part. It was originally written for the late and amazing Lorraine Hunt Lieberson.

Many people are on tight budgets this year. Why should someone go hear this instead of Handel's Messiah?
MDY: Hard to answer, as I also love to hear the Messiah... but this is a very special piece, and experience. It is semi staged and beautifully done. I find it so very moving and thrilling, I want everyone to experience it as well.

You perform on both sides of the Atlantic- can you tell us a bit about what you miss from one side when you're performing on the other?
MDY: I feel I am so blessed, as I love most of the places that I work. I am always a bit homesick when not home, but I find that wherever I am is a temporary home. I am a bit nomadic, and really like being in different places... .of course there is no place like home!

Though we've had the pleasure of hearing you with the San Francisco Symphony before, you've never performed across the street at the War Memorial Opera House. Is this sad fact going to change soon?
MDY: I hope so... I would love to sing there, just the right situation hasn't shown itself yet!

What role would you like to sing, that you're ready for, that no one knows about?
MDY: I would love to do Carmen and Dalilah...and am anxious to try Marie in Wozzeck.

You were in the remarkable LA Ring cycle, directed by Achim Freyer. If it's ever done again, do you want to be in it?
MDY: It was mostly difficult because of the very steep rake... and I also really enjoy acting and interactions, which this didn't have... but I LOVE LOVE LOVE the roles I got to sing, so if it was the right situation, I would do it again.

Keeping on the Freyer Ring, do know what the deal was with the airplane?
MDY: hahaha.... it was supposed to be Froh in there, painting the rainbow at the end, but he didn't end up going in there.

Was that your first Sieglinde, and how was it performing opposite Placido Domingo in such a seminal role?
MDY: I sang Sieglinde in the Chicago Ring 4 years ago (I think) with Domingo...which was amazing. It's thrilling to sing the role with him... I would do it again in a heart beat.

If you could drink mojitos with anyone, anywhere, who would it be and where would you have them? And please don't say "with my husband"!
MDY: I haven't gone to Hawaii, but I really want to, so I am going to say Hawaii with Dennis Haysbert (Ok, so I didn't say my husband.. haha) or actually, with Meryl Streep on one side and Phillip Seymour Hoffman on the other.

You like pop and rock music and so do I, but many people in the "classical" audience don't get it and vice versa. What would you suggest rock audiences listen to as a bridge to "getting" classical or opera?
MDY: My husband isn't a fan of classical, and LOVES Bluebeard's Castle by Bartok. It's only an hour or so long, and it's exciting and beautiful and has a high C... I also tell people to see Marriage of Figaro...

If you could be the lead singer for any rock and roll band for a night, what band do you want to front and which song do you want to tear it up on in front of 20,000 people?
MDY: I want to sing a duet with Freddie Mercury (we are dreaming, right?) or Sting!!

Heidi Melton at the Rex

 After getting off work, the Femme Fatale and I scampered over to Morton's to have sliders, blue cheese fries and Manhattans before traipsing over to the Rex for Heidi Melton's Salon show, which started at 6:00pm.

Yes, that's right- 6:00pm! How ridiculous, and all because some people complained the original 6:30 start time wouldn't give them enough time to make it over the the War Memorial for the Adler finale which began at eight. Morons. It's downtown! You could walk it in less than 30 minutes, and it's a 10 minute cab ride at best. Wtf! You do not need an hour to get from Sutter and Taylor to Van Ness and Grove. Anyway, we were three or four minutes late to the first and only classical music concert that ever started promptly on time so we had to wait until the first song was over to be let in. That's fine, except the person watching the door wasn't paying close enough attention so we missed the next song as well. Eventually we were let in and took seats in the back, where a couple of old, nasty women gave us the stink eye. Sorry dowagers- we came from work and wanted to get a bite to eat first. Why is that a problem?-  and why, lady in the grey suit and dour demeanor in the back row, did you find it necessary to kick my chair every other minute?

Oh yes, the music. The music. So Melton was singing songs by Sibelius and I couldn't tell if it was the strange acoustics of the room, with its very low ceiling and paper-thin walls, or the Finnish, or where we were seated, but it just sounded off. Like she was holding back, or wasn't fully comfortable with the language or the songs. She probably said some introductory comments about all of this, and put it in context, but we missed it, so we were listening blind so to speak. And neither of us, who have both heard her recently in other venues, were impressed by the Sibelius songs. Not that it was bad at all, mind you, but really, one expects, unreasonably perhaps at this still-early stage in her career, for Heidi Melton to be great. Period. That's kind of just the way it is. Everyone else in the room seemed to love it, but we were ambivalent.

During the brief moment after the Sibelius songs concluded, we slid over to the side of the room, away from the seat-kicker and hopefully for better acoustics. Neither of us wanted to sit too close, because Melton's voice is so preternaturally strong I was reluctant to sit close to it in such a small room.

Next up were songs by Korngold, Leider des Abshieds, Opus 14, and these were much better. Having now settled in, translations in hand, it was wonderful to hear Melton sing in German- each word was clear and meaningfully sung. "Mond, so gehst du weider auf (Moon, Where Are You Going)" was particularly poignant and beautiful, especially the final rhyming couplet. The entire song cycle was really quite marvelous. This was Melton at her best. During one pause between songs someone in the kitchen said something so out of context it made me laugh, though I was seated on the opposite side of the room. Something like "Give me a lemon."

After the Korngold, Melton and her accompanist John Churchwell left the room for a few minutes for a brief break allowing her to change into a sparkly dress- because next up were cabaret songs. She began with a Weill song sung in French, which sounded way too German for me, except for the spoken asides, which has a delightful sass to them. The highlight of the cabaret set for me was "Always," which Melton mentioned had personal relevance to her, as she sung it at her grandparents anniversary. In between the Weill and Berlin were songs that didn't fully succeed to my ears, but the strongly enthusiastic response from the audience renders my opinion to a very small minority. Melton's voice, so exquisitely operatic in every sense of the word, just doesn't navigate the subtleties of jazz singing- at least not in a venue this small. She needs room to belt it out and then reign it in gently- and at the Rex a singer really can't do that. The last time I saw her perform she ended with similar material but in a larger space (The Old First Church) and it worked splendidly. At the Rex, many of these songs seemed ill-suited to her voice and natural talents. Still, Melton is one of the finest young singers there is and it was a treat to see her in such intimate surroundings. It just proved what many people have known for a long time- she's ready for the big stage. We'll get to see that when she performs the role of Sieglinde in SFO's Die Walkure on June 29th.

Herr Feldheim and the Opera Tattler were there, as was the Last Chinese Unicorn (whom I do not believe is any relation to The Little Chinese Man, who has been strangely absent of late), whom I espied but unfortunately did not get to meet as all of them were part of the madding crowd rushing off to the opera house almost as soon as the performance ended.  I have a feeling these same usual suspects will all be at Davies tomorrow night for El Niño (which I strongly recommend you do not miss). The Femme and I on the other hand made our way to Koko's (because the obnoxious bartender is still pouring the drinks at the Rex) for a nightcap before parting ways, where they were showing Hitchcock's Psycho on the wall. How interesting it is to discuss the confines of modern life, the instability of relationships, treachery and trust while watching Janet Lee get killed in the shower.