My Little French Emo-Boy

People go to France for many reasons. I went to France most recently in October because Eric the Boyfriend had been invited to Quai des bulles, la festival BD de St Malo (The Saint Malo Comics Festival.) Yes, the BF draws a comic book series called AGE OF BRONZE which is doing very well in France.

Our adventure began when we arrived in Paris. We went to the hotel and took a short nap and made plans to have dinner with our friends Virgine and Laurent. Virginie cooked us a wonderful dinner. The next day we made our usual trip to the Louvre for culture, a trip to FNAC for off-beat and obscure opera CDs, and then to the ALBUM comic store at Bercy so Eric could do a signing event.

The next day the mini-tour began. We left Paris in the early AM to travel by train to Rouen where we met the comic store owner and were taken to our hotel. We met soon after for lunch and Eric was interviewed by two French journalists. Rouen, like most of the towns we visited this trip, was badly damaged by bombings in WWII. During the interview the subject of WWII came up and I mentioned that my Dad had been in this area of France during the War. One of the journalists thanked me for what my Dad gave to France. That has NEVER happened to me here in the US.

The next morning we arose and traveled by train to Caen where we were met at the station by Jean-Marie and his wife Sophie who own a wonderful comic story called Le Cour des Miracles. We again dropped off our stuff at the hotel and then headed off for an incredibly tasty lunch. Then Eric went to do his signing at the store and I went to explore the remains of William the Conqueror's castle a few blocks away. Jean-Marie helped me track down the spiffy new French comic book version of SIEGFRIED I wanted and later presented me with a large 3-D plastic poster for SIEGFRIED. A review of RING graphic novels will be coming along soon.

The next morning we had breakfast with Jean-Marie and Sophie at their home and we were introduced to the music of Serge Gainsbourgh, ate croissants, talked about SHORTBUS, ate more croissants, and finally headed to the train so we could travel to Rennes and do essentially the same thing yet again.

Rennes was ok - but neither the store or the town had the charm of Rouen or Caen.
On to Saint Malo!

The walled town Saint Malo.

Saint Malo was charming beyond belief. It is an old walled city that was the home of the Corsairs (something like pirates hired to defend the Bretagne coastline). After acquiring our convention badges and stuff we checked into the hotel (inside the walled city!) and were given a couple hours to go find lunch and walk around the town. Our Parisian friends Virginie and Laurent had mentioned that the French writer Chateaubriand was buried on a little island, the Grand Bé, off the coast of Saint Malo - and that one could walk there at low tide.

So Eric and I bought a baguette, a Camembert, and a bottle of red wine; and when we saw the tide was out we walked to the Grand Bé to picnic at the grave of Chateaubriand having only the vaguest notion of who he really was. Was he related to the expensive beef dish? We had also heard that the previous year at Saint Malo, another cartoonist friend of ours got stuck on Grand Bé becuase he wasn't paying enough attention to the tides. Thus I wasn't absolutely sure we were in fact headed toward Grand Bé because it seemed hard to believe the ocean would come in to sequester this island. So off we trekked to the rocky little island. We walked to the top and there was the grave of Chateaubriand.

The grave of Chateaubriand on Grand Bé.

We found a nice rock to sit on, ate our bread and cheese, drank our bottle of wine, and felt worldly and sophisticated. But when one has purchased a bottle of wine one has little choice but to finish it. Thus by the time we had finished lunch and began the walk back to Saint Malo, well ... nous étions tres pompette! My French gets better when I'm a little pompette, too! Quand j'ai été pompette j'ai pensé ma Français était meilleur. Hien? . . . donc, comme je disais ... Well, Saint Malo was a wonderful experience. We stayed for three days and three nights. I walked around the city walls one afternoon and watched the tide race in and, indeed, it not only cut off Grand Bé from the mainland it completely smothered a number of other little islets and rocky outcroppings until the ocean was lapping at the walls of Saint Malo itself. Eric and I also had our best meal in France this trip when we discovered we liked mussels - a specialty of the region.

We left Saint Malo and headed back to Paris. But Eric had one more thing on his schedule. He was to be interviewed on a popular "live" radio program (sort of the equivalent of "Fresh Air" on NPR) called Minuit/Dix which starts each night at ten past midnight. We arrived at the Radio France studios around 11:30, met the host, and the show began. It was very interesting. And I was allowed to sit in the studio during the broadcast.You can hear the interview by clicking the link below and clicking on the little red "Ecoutez" button. There is a little SLIDESHOW of PICS of the interview on this page, too.

CLICK to listen to Eric Shanower on MINUIT/DIX

The next morning Eric went to the airport to fly home to San Diego. Actually he missed his flight and he had to spend the night at Charles de Gaulle/Roissey Airoport. But I didn't find this out till later, as I was off to Belgium to visit my mySpace friend Katerine and her family. One of the best things I did was visit Breendonk, the Nazi Concentration Camp/POW camp in Belgium. I also visited the Mechalen Deportation Center which processed all of the Belgian Jews on their way to the Concentration Camps in the east. This will all get a blog of its own but it was quite over-powering. We also went to see SIEGFRIED, the Vlaamse Opera's latest installment in their new RING cycle. The next day I returned to Paris and flew home the following morning.

Now, I know what you're wondering ... where's that French Emo-Boy David promised! Surely there is some brooding and intense, floppy-haired, dark-eyed, tight jean-clad boy for you somewhere in this blog! Where is the Emo-boy?

Well, you have already met him. The Emo-boy par excellence, François-René de Chateaubriand. After I got home I decided that if I had gotten all tipsy at his grave, the least I could do was track down one of his books and read a little about him. It turns out Chateaubriand was the founder of French Romanticism. He was a lonely little boy, born in Saint Malo where he wandered the beach with his little mates. He was born in 1768 and he lost a number of family members in the French revolution and Reign of Terror. He came to America to find material for his writings and later produced his two best-known works from this material: Atala and René.

So I tracked down a paperback copy of Atala and René which kind of go together, and they each contain some of the same characters. Atala involves a love relationship between two Native Americans in 1669. The story is told by Chactas to a young Frenchman, René, as a memory about 75 years after the events have unfolded. But the true charm of the book is Chateaubriand's vivid descriptions on what is now the southeastern United States. The European descriptions of the surging rivers, mountains, wild life, and Native American culture are truly fascinating. Occasionally Chateaubriand goes a little over the top, but always with the most vivid results: "Down avenues of trees, bears may be seen drunk with grapes, and reeling on the branches of the elm trees." Contemporary reviews made fun of Chateaubriand's "drunken bears" too. But so much rings true - especially the details of how Chactas was captured and tortured by the Muskogee. It reminds me much of several books I've read on the early Iroquois. The book is also about the difference between a modern civilization gone awry (France in the revolution) and the Noble Savages of the Americas. It was most enjoyable.


The sequel, René, is a different sort of beast. In it, the brooding René finally tells his pitiful troubles to his American friends. René has become almost paralyzed with grief, woe, and misery and after unloading his troubles at last, Father Souël gives René some advice:

"Nothing in your story deserves the pity you are now being shown. I see a young man infatuated with illusions, satisfied with nothing... Know now that solitude is bad for the man who does not live with God. It increases the soul's power while robbing it at the same time of every opportunity to find expression. Whoever has been endowed with talent must devote it to serving his fellow men, for if he does not make use of it, he is first punished by an inner misery, and sooner or later Heaven visits on him a fearful retribution."

Wow, is that David's prescription for happiness or what! Hmmm...

Interestingly, René had an odd effect on French society by inventing the French Emo-Boy of the early 1800s. In typical romantic tradition Chateaubriand came to regret the monster he created. He later wrote:

"If René did not exist I would no longer write it; if I could destroy it, I would. A family of René poets and René prose writers has been swarming about. We can hear nothing now but pitiful and disconnected phrases; they talk of nothing but winds and storms, and mysterious words whispered to the clouds at night. There is not a scribbler just out of school who hasn't dreamed of being the unhappiest man of earth, not an upstart of sixteen who hasn't exhausted life and felt himself tormented by his genius, who in the abyss of his thoughts, hasn't given himself up to his vague passion, struck his pale and disheveled brow, and astounded men with sorrow which neither he nor they could describe."

Sigh ... thousands of little René-wannabe emo-boys wandering the French countryside, flopping their hair, oozing attitude, and looking for love. J'aime ça!

A+ David

When you talk about this blog later, and you will, be kind.
Copyright © 2007 D. H. Maxine
Quotes from ATALA and RENÉ translated by Irving Putter, University of California Press, Copyright © 1952.

Waffles & Walkyries

Eric waiting at Gare du Nord to catch the Thalys to Brussels

So we were off at last to visit our myspace friends Katerine and Mark in Ghent, Belgium. We took the Metro to Gare du Nord and boarded the Thalys (TGV) to Brussels where we changed to a different train to take us the last bit of the way to Ghent. We arrived about 20 minutes late and there was no immediate sign of Katerine. But I soon spotted her - looking exactly like her photos. It really seemed like meeting an old friend instead of an "internet friend." I think we were both what we each expected. Except that Katerine was surprised I didn't have a thick American accent. I'm not quite sure whether she was expecting me to sound like Clint Eastwood, a surfer boy, or a Valley Girl.

Eric had gone to search the other end of the station but he soon joined us and we were all happy and ready to depart to Chez Dynaction, or as some folks call it, The International House of Waffles. Katerine and Mark live only blocks from the Train Station and we were at their place in no time. We met Mark, whom I had forgotten was British. He welcomed us, too. Though I secretly feared that Mark thought, "Uh-oh, what's that crazy wife of mine done now!"

The Waffles have a beautiful four-story row-house style home. Their daughter Eva had kindly given up her room for us; and we took our luggage up to her room on the fourth floor. On returning to the kitchen Katerine made us a snack and brought out a bottle of red wine. Katerine now mentioned that she and Mark had been so busy that they forgotten to go to the opera a few days before. They'd had tickets to see Wagner's DIE WALKURE at the Vlaamse Opera which they had purchased after reading of my Richard Wagner enthusiasm. Katerine pulled out the opera schedule to see if they were going to be able to reschedule and there was going to be a performance the next night - while Eric and I were still in Ghent. So we decided to all go to DIE WALKURE together!

Katerine next offered up a small bottle of very spiffy champagne. And once we were properly sauced, Katerine told us her plan. We were going to go out on a tour of the old section of Ghent on bicycles! Now I have not been on a bicycle since 1995. It sounded like a good idea though, and once I made clear I was likely to fall off or end up in the river, we were all set to go.

Mark, Katerine, and David tour Ghent on Bicycle

I was astonished at how beautiful Ghent was. I often would find myself looking at a building or some-such and nearly run off the road. Biking on cobblestones was a new experince. I suspect women enjoy it more then men do. Our first stop was the Cathedral of St. Bavon where we saw the Ghent Altarpiece by Jan Van Eyck.

Ghent Altarpiece by Jan Van Eyck

The moment Katerine mentioned it I remembered it from Art History Class. It was quite impressive. The Cathedral was nice, too. Off we went down the cobblestone streets, across beautiful bridges, we saw houses Katerine had lived in, where the kids were born, and much else. Soon it was time to stop for beer. We each had two. So now after downing the bottle of red wine, the champagne, and two dark beers, we came out of the pub to find it snowing lightly. To be tipsy in the snow in Ghent is a wonderful experience. To be tipsy in the snow in Ghent on a bicycle is another thing all together! It was getting cold and I loaned Katerine my hat.

We returned safely to Chez Waffle and Katerine prepared some hot soup to warm us up. The three kids (Calvin, Lucas, and Eva) had now come home, too. I asked Katerine what kind of soup it was. I was told Courgette Soup! Ah, I wondered, what on earth is a courgette? Or is it a place? An herb? I worried, "Uh oh, Cour means heart in French. I hope it's not Heart Soup." So began the process of Katerine and the Waffle kids trying to explain what a courgette was. Finally, Lucas very sensibly went to the refrigerator and produced a courgette for me. "Oh," I cried, "a zucchini!"

We had more red wine, the kids played music for us, we looked at stuff. Mark built up the fire, and Katerine began preparing dinner. It was a dinner I might have made at home myself: salad, green beans, and salmon. After dinner we sat around and talked, drank more wine, and Katerine and Mark showed us a couple episodes of a British sit-com called BOTTOM.

A little before midnight Mark went up to bed and Katerine wanted to dance. I do not dance if I can help it. I am too self-conscious. But that did not stop Eric and Katerine. And do you know what one dances to in Ghent at midnight? The Bee Gees! We eventually finished out the evening with a sweet white wine that Katerine especially liked.

The next morning after a little breakfast Eric and I went back to the old part of Ghent to do some sight-seeing. We went to "the Castle of the Counts." Katerine had told us to make sure and see the dungeon and torture implements! Hmmmmm...

Eric in front of The Castle of the Counts

Eric and I had a nice lunch at a Belgian pub and then went to look at a Belgian comicbook store. We ate a waffle on the street, Eric bought some chocolates for his mom, I bought a few more things at FNAC, and we headed back to K&M to prepare for our Night at the Opera!

DIE WALKURE at Vlaamse Opera in Ghent

DIE WALKURE was wonderful. I will blog a review of it soon. And Katerine and Mark seemed to be very pleased with Wag's music. Even Eric enjoyed it. After Wotan put Brunhilde to sleep and the opera was over we went down the street and had a couple beers. Then we went to a beautiful artsy, leftist, bar with a most handsome crowd and had two more beers. We got back to the Waffle Iron about 3:00 AM

When we got up there was about 5 inches of snow on the ground and Ghent had been transformed into a sugary ice-frosted fairyland. We drank coffee, packed our bags, and all four of us went out to a delicous lunch. We were taken to the train station and said farewell to the Waffles.

Eric and I arrived back in Paris about 4:30 PM and rechecked into our hotel. Eric went out to buy a few more French comics, and we headed to the Paris Opera at Palais-Garnier to see two one-acts: Janacek's JOURNAL D'UN DISPARU and Bartok's LE CHATEAU DE BARBE-BLEU. We had most unusual (if inexpenive) seats up on the Fifth Loge in little alcoves above the boxes where we could peek out at the opera. I'm glad I saw these two operas but was not blown away by either. But it was nice to see Willard White as Blue-Beard.

The next morning we arose, got some breakfast, packed and left for the airport to fly home.

David and Katerine in Ghent

A Bientot, mes amies...
David

When you talk about this blog later, and you will, be kind.
Copyright © 2007 D. H. Maxine

RING around the Russians

DIE WALKURE - Act III

STUPENDOUS BUT STUPID

Well, I'm back from the end of the world, and my fifth live RING cycle was a mixed bag. No production of Richard Wagner's fifteen-hour-long epic DER RING DES NIBELUNGEN is ever perfect. But alas, the highs and lows of the inane and confusing production-concept somewhat marred the often spectacular music.

Conductor Valery Gergiev and the Kirov Orchestra produced a RING of unusual beauty. The orchestra was perhaps the clearest and most transparent version of the RING I have ever heard. Gergiev had the ability to make Wagner's massive orchestra often sound like chamber music. This is meant as a compliment. One could hear each orchestral voice blending into a Wagnerian tapestry with each individual thread of orchestral color, intermingling to make a lovely sound-picture.

I did find Gergiev's conducting of RHEINGOLD to be a little lifeless and the horns had a rough time. A friend at the opera suspected it was the dry California air taking its toll on the Russian horn players. But the horns solved their problems sometime during DIE WALKURE and Gergiev came to life for the final three operas.

SIEGFRIED - Act III
Siegfried meets the Wanderer

The singing in RHEINGOLD was solid. There were no weak links; but most of the cast didn't bowl me over, although the Alberic of Edem Umerov and the Mime of Nikolai Gassiev deserve special mention. The Erda had a thick Russian accent. I do not speak German, but even I could hear it. Her RHEINGOLD aria began as something like, "Vikeeee, Votann, Vikeeee!" In WALKURE, Placido Domingo joined the all-Russian cast to sing Siegmund. He was astounding with beautiful tone, a strong ringing voice. Hard to believe he is sixty-five. The WALKURE's Fricka (Larissa Diadkova) was lovely and empathetic and made one almost side with her against Wotan sung by Mikhail Kit. Oddly though, Fricka left the stage before singing her final lines to Brunnhilde in Act II. The super-title came up, but Fricka was long gone. As might be expected the Kirov choral work was spectacular. The Valkyries sang with a clarity I have never heard before, as did the Gibichung Vassals in GOTTERDAMMERUNG.

But the star of the Kirov RING was the Brunnhilde of Olga Sergeyeva. She has a lovely voice (with a trill no less!) and she had no trouble cutting through the Wagnerian orchestra. Her "Battle Cry" was perhaps her weakest moment, but from there on she took command and sang a spectacular WALKURE Act III, a luscious and orgasmic final duet in SIEGFRIED, and the best GOTTERDAMMERUNG Brunnhilde I've ever heard, capped by an "Immolation Scene" that burnt the house down. If her voice weren't enough, La Sergeyeva is a Wagnerian triple-threat. In addition to her voice, she is lovely, appears to be young, and has a stunning figure. And she can act! Thus Sergeyeva's triple-threat status makes her the finest Brunnhilde singing today, IMHO.

We got two different Siegfrieds; one each for SIEGFRIED and GOTTERDAMMERUNG. The SIEGFRIED Siegfried was Leonid Zakhozhaev. He was spectacular. He was thin, youthful, sexy, and could easily pass for twenty onstage. So he certainly looked like Siegfried. So what is our surprise when he opens his mouth and even sounds like Siegfried! He has a bright ringing voice that sounds more like a strong lyric than the more normal helden tenor. But after examining the program to see who our boy was, it turns out he also sings Faust in FAUST and Hoffman in TALES OF HOFFMAN. He has a very beautiful instrument. I hope he takes care of it. That said, it was simply glorious to see SIEGFRIED with a Siegfried and Brunnhilde that looked the parts and sang the bejeezus out of it!

For GOTTERDAMMERUNG we got a new Siegfried named Viktor Lutsyuk. His voice is a bit bigger than Zakhohaev's; but he hasn't quite as lovely a tone. Gunther (Andrey Spehov) had a strong, powerful voice, but oddly, Hagen (Mikhail Petrenko) was vocally disappointing. One would think that the Kirov would have little trouble coming up with a black-toned, big-voiced Russian bass. But Petrenko's Hagen was often swamped by the orchestra and just didn't seem to have enough power. However, this was the most fascinating and creepiest Hagen I've ever seen. Petrenko played Hagen as a weak, lurking, manipulative eunuch. He was as a spider waiting for its prey. And his appearance was something like Clive Barker's "Pinhead" wearing a strapless brown evening gown! Creepy as hell! I wish he'd had the volume to pull off his "Hi Ho! Hi Ho!" number.

GOTTERDAMMERUNG - Act II
Creepy bare-chested Hagen is on the upper level.

BRING IN DA FUNK

But alas, for all of Gergiev's understanding of the music, I found it shocking how un-theatrical and idiotic much of his staging was and how arbitrarily the set and lighting were used. I should add that while I love the naturalistic RING cycles at the MET and Seattle, I have no problem with unusual takes and production concepts. But they have to make sense! I don't particularly like Chereau's RING a lot, but it is intelligent and carefully thought out. The Gergiev/Tsypin RING is just sloppy.

The "Production Concept" is credited to Gergiev and Set Designer George Tsypin. The sculptural set consisted of four immense figures (about twenty-four feet high) and a couple dozen little fetish figures (about three feet high) that looked kind of like Jawas or Ewoks from STAR WARS. The big ones seemed to be part mummy, part horse, part fossil, part primordial performance art. All of the figures had different-colored lights within them. And the little Ewok fetishes had light-up faces. All of this was rearranged, act by act, to change the stage picture. Sometimes the figures floated horizontally. Sometimes they stood with flames on their back. Sometimes they seemed to be dead on the ground. In Act II of GOTTERDAMMERUNG they played Chess! In the final moments of the RING as the world is burning down, and the Rhine is overflowing its banks, the biggies collapsed and the little Ewoks were sitting on their backs. Is this the death of the gods? The death of the past? It was just about the only use of the set that seemed to make sense.

Much of the lighting was incredibly beautiful. The colors were the most intense I have ever seen on stage. But it often felt like we were at a lighting rehrearsal. Lights flashed on and off, cues were anticipated i.e. in WALKURE, the fire lights and fire projection started before Wotan called for Loge. Lights would shift to a new cue for a moment and then jump back for seemingly no reason. Very odd.

There seemed to be no intent in the least to advance the story, clarify the complex plot, or do much other than make beautiful stage pictures. And they did make some beautiful imagery! But it had nothing to do with the RING, the story, or anything else. Who are the mummified giants supposed to be? Are they the gods? Why are there four of them? Why do they have horse heads some of the time? Why do they have NO heads some of the time? Sometimes their heads light up for no apparent reason at all. Why are they sometimes lying dead on the floor? Why do they double as Fafner the dragon? Why do they play a jumbo-sized game of Chess in Act II of GOTTERDAMMERUNG? It was simply jarring to be watching the opera and the giant-heads light up for a couple seconds and then go off, then they light up again and go off. It did not seem to be related to the libretto, to the leit motifs, or to anything other than Gergiev/Tsypin trying to upstage Wagner, or else an intoxicated light-board operator was having WAY too much fun.

The scenery, costumes, and lighting seemed to be at odds much of the time and created a visual dissonance that often left the audience slack-jawed. The Gibichungs wore primitive Russian tribal-wear. Fine! It worked on the set quite well, though seeing Hagen in an ancient Russian get-up that resembled a strapless evening gown was a little jarring.

Alas, the looks of the gods and magical-elements were all over the place. The Rhine Daughters wore silver evening gowns. Fricka and Freia wore modern-looking dresses well-suited for wearing to the Academy Awards. Loge, Donner and Froh wore decorated caftans ala the MET's current RING; Fasolt and Fafner looked like giant boulder-beings about fifteen feet tall; and all of the Nibelung dwarves looked like refugees from Arthur Rackham. Poor Erda wore some arcane headdress that was literally ten feet wide; and the Norns wore more primordial crap. Siegfried had a rather sexy pair of red trousers with a revealing tunic which showed off his FABULOUS biceps! Brunnhilde wore a black-leather-like evening gown, split up the front, revealing her trouser-covered legs and knee-high boots - a rather sexy dominatrix look.

But into this muddle of fashion, Gergiev/Tsypin introduced a dancing chorus that appeared in each act of each opera. They played the "fire," wearing black spandex jumpsuits with light-up flame hair (we took to calling them the matchstick girls), but they also played Hunding's hunting dogs. Or were they his kinsmen? It was hard to tell.

SIEGFRIED - Act I
Siegfried is being spun around the stage by the mystery chorus after forging Nothung

The mystery chorus all ran on stage and struck a pose in the final bars of the SIEGFRIED love duet (my guess is they were playing Siegfried's cum). And the weirdest bit of all was when two of the little farts appeared at the beginning of the GOTTERDAMMERUNG "Vengeance Trio" dressed in bright red with white chickens tied to their belts!!!

As opera comedienne Anna Russell often said about the RING, "I'm not making this up, you know!"

So we are sitting there in the audience, drinking in the "Vengeance Trio," when these two little chicken-chokers show up. Well, they stand around for a while and then Brunnhilde goes up to them and procures something from each which she places in a bowl. Chicken blood? Gizzards? Gergiev's brain? Brunnhilde takes the bowl of chicken parts downstage and spills it onto a little table and her bowl starts to smoke. By this time I assume she's enacting an ancient Russian fortune-telling rite using giblets. The beautifully sung "Vengeance Trio" continues, though now our two little chicken-chokers have climbed up onto the upper platform and are doing Martha Graham, while down below Gunther, Hagen, and Brunnhilde plot Siegfried's death. It is unfathomable to me how Gergiev can not understand that he is upstaging one of the great moments of one of the greatest operas in the world with utter nonsense.

More choice bits of foolishness:

In WALKURE Act III we got fourteen Valkyries instead of the usual nine. The extras were just there to move the set but it made hash of Wagner's symbolism and the story.

In GOTTERDAMMERUNG Act III the Rhine Daughters come in carrying a fifteen foot long yellow neon "lance." They spin it and tease Siegfried with it. Then he takes it and sits by it at the edge of the stage. My best guess was that it was a ray of sunshine.

In RHEINGOLD the Tarnhelm was a wire-thing that looked like a Chinese "coolie" hat made out of a Slinky. In SIEGFRIED it seemed to be invisible, and in GOTTERDAMMERUNG it looked like a birdcage with tassels! Why make the story more complicated than it already is?

The actual "gold" in RHEINGOLD was a big fillagree ball about ten feet in diameter. Kind of pretty, but it seemed idiotic at the end of the opera when there was no gold to pile up, and they put Freia inside it.

The Wood Bird was sung by a singer on stage instead of off in the wings or in the pit. Now this is not a terrible choice in itself, but Gergiev dressed her in a heavy white gown with clanky beads and ruffles and frou-frou falling from her sleeves and overlong skirts. She looked much more like Miss Havisham than a Wood Bird! Gergiev also wanted her to sing her lines from the top of one of the giants (in this act it was lying prone on the stage). So Miss Havisham flutters out from the wings, hoists up her heavy skirts to climb the stairs to the top of the giant, sings her lines waving her arms up and down, and goes back down, exiting into the wings. This is clunky enough to do once, but Gergiev had her enter and leave for EACH of her little bird-songs!

SIEGFRIED - Act II
Siegfried and Miss Havisham (the Wood Bird)

Okay, enough bitching about the production. It was a marvelous RING musically and it was often visually beautiful. I heard and saw the most luscious Brunnhilde and Siegfried of my RING career. I met new friends and visited with old ones. The Rhine Daughters have their gold back, and I can wait expectantly for RING number six. I wonder if that's why they call it the RING cycle …

David

When you talk about this blog later, and you will - be kind.

Copyright 2006 D. H. Maxine.