Heiliger scheiss! Das ist eine gross boot!
Previous viewings of Wagner's "Fliegende Hollender" have left me somewhat cold.
Eh! I said to myself, nice music, but the story, like, sucks.
Last nights performance by Sir Speight Jenkins (I'm awarding him Lane Savant title of "being better than the sad and deteriorating Gerry Schwartz")of aforementioned, was about 6 degrees short of 100% spectacular.
I stayed awake for the whole thing.
One factor was the staging and costuming. A modern (for the 50's anyway)
fishing boat with guys in motley. T-shirts, slickers, baseball caps,
hard hats, etc. I can relate.
The boat originally appeared on stage in earlier performances with the running lights on the wrong sides. In Seattle, it got noticed and corrected.
That would happen in Boston too, I imagine.
Unless they do it the other way 'round on that end of the country.
The other boat, Mr Fliegende's, was appropriately spooky.
One other thing I noticed was that the libretto talked a lot about sails even though the fishing boat was obviously diesel powered.
The story is still suspicious, of course, but acted properly, as it was not before,(the supertitles help) what is accentuated is the emotional and psychological content.
The ensemble, (set, costumes, music and the singing) make the suspension of disbelief easy, almost inevitable.
I am not worthy to comment on Jane Eaglen's Senta. I am always suspicious of superlatives and I can't think of anything else to use.
Same goes for Greer Grimsley's Hollender.
Two supporting roles stood out. The somnolent steersman by the enthusiastic
Jason Collins, and Eric by Jay Hunter Morris. O.K. they didn'tstick out
but they were noticeable and, oh...what's
the word? Supportive.
Wagner seems to like the psychological dynamic of women dying to save their men.
But as Bugs Bunny once said "It's Opera, doc, wattaya expect? A happy ending?
But it is
supposed to be a happy ending.
I don't know. Two confused and depressed nut-cases find "release" in death?
I think we have medications for that now.
Could be Sid Vicious and his girlfriend.
Alice obviously suffered some kind of brain damage after falling down the rabbit hole.
Dorothy's wild stories about tin men, lions and scarecrows indicate to me some
sort of brain trauma that ought to be looked into.
I worry about people.
My question is; what does it mean to the living and sane?
Why, in other words, do these mythological scenarios exist in the first place?
I'm sure that the majority of the audience have a reasonably firm grip on reality (O.K. "reality")
They seem to have more money than I do. They dress better. That's the definition of sanity, isn't it?
My wife did say I looked almost sharp last night. (I think I told you about the new shoes and I also bought a new shirt)
Anyway, the theme of my flute concerto is this sort of retreat in to the world
of the mind. Naive and vulnerable flute suffers the torments of her
reality and retreats into a self constructed dream like internal state.
The piece ends with with the success of achieving that state.
And the tragedy implied thereby.
Dreams nourish but it is sad to have to try to live on them.
Managed to meet and greet five people I knew, that's always nice.
Labels: Chapman's, Seattle Symphony Snark