I used the knife to practise a stabbing motion with the American baritone Kimm Julian, who was playing Silvio. As we rehearsed the scene, he had a way of arching his body and pulling in his stomach which just didn’t look right. After about 12 attempts, the director suggested we try it in slow motion. At the crucial moment, just as I’d done 12 times before, I pushed the button to make the blade retract. But when I looked down, I saw to my amazement that the blade was still out. I hadn’t felt any resistance when I stabbed Kimm, so I thought everything must be okay. I asked him, “I didn’t get you, did I?” and he answered: “No.” I just had time to think, “Thank God,” when I saw Kimm’s face turn white. He was sweating. He put his hand inside his waistcoat to his stomach, then took it out and looked at it, saw that it was bloodstained, and collapsed. I looked at the knife again — it was clean. But then I saw blood oozing from around his navel and soaking into his shirt and jeans. It was horrible.
The emergency services arrived along with the police. By then I was in tears — almost hysterical — thinking I’d killed Kimm. What happened next was like a mixture of farce and verismo [realism in opera], as the director described to the police how I’d just found out that my wife was having an affair with this guy, so I’d stabbed him. He was giving them the plot of the opera, but the police took it seriously. They grabbed me and marched me off into another room. They were wearing holsters with guns. I felt very threatened. The next thing I knew, I was being questioned about how long I’d known that this guy had been having an affair with my wife. Farce was turning into nightmare. I tried to explain that Nedda wasn’t my real wife — Diana was at home in England with our children. But the police started accusing me of being someone’s lover. After pleading with them to let me call Diana, they took me to a phone. Convinced by now that I had killed Kimm, I cried down the phone to her, and the police stood nearby listening to every word.
Eventually they realised their mistake and I was released. But the story leaked out, and while Kimm was undergoing surgery for a wound that had missed his stomach by millimetres, I was being hassled by TV and radio stations. Back home in England, reporters turned up at our house, desperate to interview Diana and the children. Our nanny was hounded by a journalist asking her: “Is he aggressive at home?” Then they got hold of our gardener, and he said: “David? Oh yes, he’s good with a knife.”
I was walking through the Music building because I love listening to people practice, and I stumbled upon a poster for Opera San Jose: “The Marriage of Figaro” by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. My first thought was of the Woody Woodpecker sketch where Woody gives a guy a haircut, but he uses a cleaver, and the Barber of Seville by Gioachino Rossini played in the background. Classical music reminds me of cartoons I watched when I was a kid because the music has repeatedly been used for background music. Tickets are still available for this opera for $51 to $91. It runs until Sunday, but it definitely won’t have anything to do with Woody Woodpecker giving a haircut.
Man, tonight was just one exhausting performance. Reeds felt the same. Oboe is the same. I’m only a few days older than I was on Tuesday. But by the end I was absolutely fried.
And for the second time during the run, someone on the road has pointed out that I forgot to turn on my headlights on my drive home. Ack! The brain, it is a’leavin’.
So now there is one more performance. I’ll miss this opera. Mozart sure knew what he was doing! After the final show there is a party and the orchestra has been invited (nice!). Odds are I’ll not go; I am such a hermit, and the thought of socializing after a 3 1/2 hour performance … well … it’s unlikely I can handle it. Singers are frequently extroverts. So are some of my pit pals. Me? I’ll probably go home, put on pjs, and crash!
Yesterday I received a second packet of season information from San Francisco Opera. Wow. Another brochure and everything. I wish they’d give us the option of only getting things online so we don’t waste paper and they don’t waste money. Perhaps they could even subtract a dollar or so from our ticket price. What an idea, eh?
We still haven’t renewed our tickets for the 2010 SF Opera season*. This means we’ve lost our chance in the drawing for a free season ticket. Ah well. What were the chances anyway? We do have to renew by March 15. I was hoping that, prior to that date, we would be given the opportunity to subscribe to the 2011 Ring Cycle as well, without the currently required tax deductible contribution of $460 that is added to each ticket. So far the only way we can get our season tickets to the cycle is by paying a whopping $2,000. (Yes. Really. $560 + $460 per subscription.) That simply won’t happen with our income. I do wonder if this means we lose the chance completely of seeing the Wagner operas, but one can only hand out so much money, right?
We will be renewing .. at least the 2010 season part. I’m just putting it off for a while longer, trying to get finances in order. But I will most likely not be renewing Opera News (from the Met) magazine. I’m tired of paper waste. I would happily renew if they had an option of “online subscription only” (again, a deal of even a few dollars off would be great … saving them publishing costs and paper usage). When will magazines get savvy to this? Am I just dreaming of something that will never happen? I wrote to them, suggesting it, and they said, “We can’t do that because some patrons don’t want it.” I suggested that they make online subscriptions an option, not the sole way of subscribing. I didn’t hear back. Oh well.
Speaking of opera, we have our final two Marriage of Figaro performances tonight and Sunday afternoon. Then I move on to ballet, with Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet. Not quite the comedy Marriage of Figaro has been … but fantastic music, to be sure!
*SF Opera calls it the 2010-2011 season, but all the operas are in 2010, so I choose to call it what it is.
I have Figaro tonight, and three students before that; the first student of the day canceled, and while I’ll miss her I am sort of relieved, as I need my nap. Teaching, when I put myself into it, and I always do my best to do that, can really zonk me out. Figaro can too. Put ‘em together and I’m heading toward zombie land.
I’m wimpy, I know. I have a friend who works her day job and then goes and plays the opera. I know that many on stage have day jobs also, and they still manage to stay awake for the performance, and do great work, too!
But me? I’m gonna take a nap now. Otherwise I’m not sure just where my head would be tonight at, say, 11:00 PM. I haven’t been doing nothing all day, mind you. I have started our taxes (going easier this year; I guess I’m getting better at these things!), and I took a trip down to the symphony office to pick up lots of parts for Romeo and Juliet, as we begin our ballet rehearsals a week from yesterday. (I love this ballet music … which is rare!)
But in any case, the couch is calling my name. I will obey.
Here … have yourself some Figaro while I’m resting!
Opening night seemed to be a success. The audience really applauded (especially for our Countess), and they were on their feet at the end.
But of course since this blog is about me … don’tcha want to hear about me? Huh? So here’s something I rarely write: I was happy with my playing. Yep. Really. And I had fun. So there you go.
(And now it’s nearly midnight. The opera went until 11:26. I love that I live so close. Most of my colleagues are still on the road. I feel for them.)
I can’t tell you how incredible it is to play Mozart. That guy knew how to write for the oboe. A very fulfilling night!
This is the sort of week I try not to look at as a whole. Instead I look day-by-day, so that things seem a bit more manageable. And busy means 1) employment and 2) I’m not bored! “Better busy than bored” is something I’ve been known to say, and I’ll stick by that, even as I whine.
But here I am, saying I’m busy, and yet I’m still in my robe and pjs. Ah, the musician’s life! And I’m not nearly as busy as my friend and colleague dk, who holds down a “real” job and still manages to be one of the best musicians I know. Go figure.
Here’s what’s on my schedule for the week, running from this past Monday through this coming Sunday:
12 private students (five lessons canceled due to conflicts either on my side or theirs)
one morning (through to 1:00 PM) at UCSC (which means an hour + on each side for commute)
six opera services (at least 3 hours and 15 minutes each)
one 4 1/2 hour job in Santa Cruz (ditto the one hour of commuting time from above)
Hmmm. When I look at it that way it doesn’t look nearly as difficult as I was thinking! How ’bout that? And most of my colleagues have to drive much further to and from opera. What a baby I can be! Of course this doesn’t include any practice or reed making time (I’m not sure I’ll find any of that, actually). Nor does it include errands/chores/meals (and I’m not sure I’ll actually get lunch today, to be honest). So there’s that. But really … I think I am fretting over a whole lotta nothing. Some things never change eh?
I absolutely love Marriage of Figaro. It isn’t exactly a breeze for principal oboe, but it’s not a killer, and I love the little solos and duets I have. What lovely things he wrote for us, don’t you think?
I saw the official brochure for next season at the Opera San José office today. And it turns out that Anna Karenina will be conducted by Stewart Robinson.
Here’s the start of the opera, in case anyone is wondering how it begins and has yet to see this opera. Is that possible? Have some of you not seen and heard Marriage of Figaro? Hmmm. You could always buy a ticket to the OSJ production! :-)
Yesterday’s rehearsal included singers. And, with those singers, was a familiar name from the past: one of our Figaros is Brian Leerhuber. He sang with OSJ back when our daughter, Kelsey, was one of the three spirits in Die Zauberflöte. I’m thinking that must have been the 1998 production (you can see all past productions listed here). What fun to see and hear him again!
Today’s rehearsal will be at the California Theatre.
Merola has launched their own website. While looking around I wondered if they have also cut back the season for this coming summer. Does anyone know? I thought they usually did two operas. I now only see one. I’m probably just confused.
I sometimes get the joy of working with the Merola gang. I love it! But then I love all things opera! (Which means I’m looking forward to getting back to the remainder of
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I received a newsletter from OSJ on Friday which includes the names of the operas for next season. I am assuming it’s now safe to tell everyone what we are doing:
Anna Karenina
David Carlson
Performances: September 11, 12, 14, 17, 19, 23, 25, 26
The Barber of Seville
Gioachino Rossini
Performances: February 12, 13, 15, 18, 20, 24, 26, 27
La bohème
Giacomo Puccini
Performances: April 23, 24, 28, 30, May 1, 3, 6, 8
I’m sort of surprised by two things: 1) we are doing a contemporary opera (!) and 2) we are doing two Puccini works (?). But that’s what’s on the newsletter, and that was also what I had been told earlier. So there you go.
SF Opera has announced their next season (most of which I’d already heard about thanks to Opera Tattler, who often knows things before the rest of us). We received our renewal form and brochure yesterday. Some bloggers aren’t terribly thrilled.
Me?
I am fairly new to being an audience member at opera (been in the pit for 25+ years), so I’m not getting any “repeats” at this point. I’m okay with the operas, although I’m not doing backflips over them. (But I never do backflips, truth be told.)
Here are some blog links if you want to read what others are saying:
… and I’m still looking forward to the remainder of this season!
I know what Opera San José is doing as well, but I’m not sure we are supposed to divulge that information yet, and I don’t like to spill the beans without permission.
On November 20, in the Central Market in Valencia, Spain, a piano was heard playing over the sound system, and a young fruit-seller suddenly started singing Alfredo’s Act I music from Verdi’s La Traviata from inside his stand. He was joined by a soprano female vendor, singing Violetta.
Then another tenor broke in, then another soprano, as a bemused crowd looked and listened in appreciation. At the end, there were three couples, indulging in a little competitive singing, handing out sparkling wine in champagne flutes, waltzing with passersby – and passing out leaflets pushing the opera.
(I’m not hearing a piano, though. Accordion maybe?)