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Plácido
Domingo in Live Performance
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(What's
up with this dialog thing? It looks like a script. Why not just write
in paragraphs? Click here
for the answer.) Live On November 2, 2002,
Xan attended the opening night performance of Mozart's Idomeneo
at the Washington
Opera, and afterward actually got to go backstage and meet Mr. Domingo
himself! Below Xan tells the story to her XoneFriends,
with pictures. Xan's Trip to See Plácido Domingo
Xan enters her house in the XanXone and rushes to the living room with its high vaulted ceiling, looking for her Xonefriends. XAN: Guys! I’m back! Rosa, George and Smart Alec the cat are waiting for her, sitting on a long couch upholstered in irregular stripes that remind Xan of a desert sunset -- blues and purples alternating with oranges, reds and pinks in various widths. All three jump to their feet; Rosa and George come to embrace her, and Alec strops himself on her ankles. ALEC: Mrrrroww! GEORGE: Welcome back! ROSA: Xan! Welcome home! Did you have a good time? George gives her a kiss and leads her to a seat on the couch. Alec jumps up and curls up next to her, and she gives him a few strokes along his spine. He stretches luxuriously. Rosa sits down next to Alec. ALEC: Thaaaaank-youuuuuwwwwr! XAN: It was wonderful. My feet are killing me, but it was worth it. More than worth it. ROSA: Well, tell us about it. Was the opera great? Did you get to meet HIM? Did you get any pictures? Xan laughs. XAN: Yes, the opera was great, yes, I got to meet HIM, and yes, I have pictures. GEORGE: Well, show us. And show us what you wore -- you didn’t get to model your clothes with the necklace and earrings before you left. XAN: Okay. She waves a hand and an image appears in a little window in midair.
XAN: Here’s me with the necklace on -- I wish I looked better in photographs than that, but you get the idea. I posed for that after I got back, just to have a record of it, evening make-up and all. Not that you can tell, really. My eyebrows are still almost as invisible as ever. And the hair is a little too red as usual. And I wish the earrings showed up better. ALEC: Mrroww. The lipsssstick is a little sssstrrrrange too. XAN: Thank you so much, feline. She
snaps her fingers. XAN: That’s a close-up of the necklace. The earrings are a little more visible, too. ROSA: They are so beautiful. Deirdre put in an incredible amount of work on those. XAN: I know. She said she started out to build a cabin and it turned into the Taj Mahal. And now she’s finished the belt that goes with it. Here's a close-up of that.
She snaps her fingers again.
XAN: Here’s a full-length shot, also posed afterwards -- sans belt, this time. I was trying to show that that wasn’t a skirt, but a pair of trousers in disguise. Didn’t really quite give the right impression, though. ROSA: I think I get the general idea. I like them. And you wear them well. XAN: Thank you. Comes from not having any butt. I do like the way they look, but I'll tell you, those loose panels are a menace. I've trod on them, other people have trod on them, I've closed one in a car door -- one even fell in the toilet once. ALEC: Eeeeeeeewwwwwwrrrr! XAN: Fortunately before I'd used it, not after. ROSA: Fortunately indeed. But never mind about that. I want to see you with HIM. Alec makes a sniffing noise and twitches his whiskers. Xan chuckles and snaps her fingers again. XAN: Here you go. Me with Plácido Domingo. Are you sure you don’t want to wait until their proper place in the story? ROSA: No. I want to see them now. Xan smiles at her eagerness.
XAN: Okay. First picture, he was wearing a sort of kimono, not as blue as that picture makes it out to be, more gray, with little yellow patterns in it. I had to lighten the image up some -- the flash didn’t go off. GEORGE: That’s too bad. But this is still a good picture, considering. The angle’s a little strange, though. XAN: Yes, the woman I asked to take the picture must have been about 4 foot 10, so there’s something of an upward tilt. ALEC: And you got a boosssst from thosssse two-and-halffff inch heelssss, too, didn’t you? XAN: Yes, cut the height differential almost in half. Plus I think he's bending forward a little. ROSA: You said there were two pictures? XAN: Yes. I waited until after he’d gotten dressed and tried again. Still couldn’t get the flash to fire, though. Snaps for the second picture.
XAN: Second picture, he’d changed into a tux. Silk, I could feel it. Wonderful texture. George raises an eyebrow; his lips quirk in a suppressed smile. GEORGE: Feel it? Xan grins. XAN: Yes. He put his arm around my shoulders, and I found myself putting mine around his waist. So sue me. GEORGE: Don’t be silly. I was just teasing you. It’s a good picture. XAN: Yes, it’s okay. I cropped this one a little; it was taken from a greater distance, and I wanted a closer-up shot. Had to lighten it up too. ROSA: I like them both, lighting problems or not. He looks good. And so do you. XAN: Thanks. Yes, I think both of them are a fairly accurate representation of both of us. My hair didn’t go the usual crazy red that it does in most photos. ROSA: So tell us how you got to see him, and what the opera was like and -- everything. XAN: Everything? You want a plot summary too? ROSA: Well, maybe later, if you’ve got one. I don’t really know anything about Idomeneo. [Link to plot summary of Idomeneo] XAN: That’s okay. There isn’t actually much of a plot, when you come right down to it. But I’ll get to that. She snaps away the image window and settles back against a cushion. XAN: Where should I start? ROSA: Well, didn’t you say you were going to meet someone who knew him, who might be able to help you get into see him? XAN: Sue North. Yes. She used to be the head of the Plácido Domingo Society. Want to see a picture of her? She snaps her fingers again for the image window.
XAN: This is Sue. She was a little shy about being photographed, but I wanted some kind of picture of her. GEORGE: And you met her how? XAN: You remember the tenorissimo.com Website that I always used to look at? ROSA: The one that's just an archive now? Yes, I remember your showing it to us. It was a treasure trove of stuff about HIM. XAN: You said it. And you remember my telling you that I’d been exchanging emails with Anne Lawson, the woman who maintained it? ROSA: Yes. And I've always sort of wondered if all those reviews you sent her to add to the site might have contributed to her decision to shut it down. I know it was a lot of work to put them up. XAN: I've wondered that too. But I think that's a bit too egotistical an assumption. She laughs. XAN: I know from the little that I've done that it also takes a lot of time and effort to surf the web to pick up the latest reports. Plus which I think Anne had a lot of personal contacts that sent her news of HIM too. I'm sure it was a full time job, and I think she just wanted to retire, as it were. GEORGE: So it was through Anne that you made contact with Sue? XAN: Yes. I had said to her that I wished I could make contact with someone in Washington who might be interested in meeting for a drink or something at intermission. Anne very kindly gave me Sue’s email address, telling me that she had been the head of the Plácido Domingo Society and was "nice and helpful". Also that she might give me pointers on getting backstage after the performance. So I sent Sue a message, and we arranged to meet at 3 o’clock Saturday afternoon at the Kennedy Center. ROSA: Which you did. XAN: Yes, indeed. I got there a few minutes late -- I’d underestimated the amount of time I’d need to catch the Metro and walk from the station to the Kennedy Center. And my feet were already sore, and I didn’t want to run. But she was very nice about it. She was waiting where she’d suggested we meet, at that big bust of JFK in the Grand Foyer. She took me upstairs to a cafeteria and we sat and talked for -- I don’t know, maybe half an hour. We talked about HIM, of course, and some other stuff. I really liked her a lot. I hope we can stay in touch. GEORGE: And she did help you get backstage, obviously. XAN: Yes, she took me down to the stage door and talked to the man on duty there, asking if HE was going to be seeing people after the performance. GEORGE: Was there a possibility that he might not? XAN: Well, it was opening night, and there’s usually a cast party after those, so he might not have wanted to take the time. I knew it was a possibility. But the fellow said he thought he would be seeing people, and said I should write a note asking to be put on the list for afterward. So I did, and he said to check back about 6:30 or so to see if I was on the list. Then Sue and I said good-bye -- she wasn’t going to be at the performance that night, another reason I took her picture on the way out -- and I went back to the hotel to get ready. Bought some insoles to cushion my poor blistered feet, too. GEORGE: It’s too bad sore feet interfered with your enjoyment of your evening. XAN: Believe me, they didn’t interfere. Once I got back to the opera house I wasn’t paying any more attention to them. My mind was elsewhere. ROSA: I can imagine. So what was the opera house like? XAN: Well, large, as you can imagine. The Grand Foyer is an exhibitionist's dream, with all those floor-to-ceiling mirrors, too. Or a paranoid's nightmare. Here are a couple of pictures of it. She snaps up the web pages on the Kennedy Center's virtual tour Website for the North Grand Foyer and the South Grand Foyer. XAN: I found it a little unsettling to keep seeing myself out of the corner of my eye as I walked along. The usual opera house red-and-gold color scheme, though. GEORGE: And the inside? Was it as big as the Met? Did it have an ugly curtain too? XAN: I'm not sure if it's as big as the Met or not, since I've never been to the Met, only seen it on video, but no, it doesn't have the same ugly golden duct-tape curtain, thank God. Here, you can see it. She snaps up another picture from the virtual tour -- XAN: There's the inside of the opera house -- and invokes the feature which makes the picture turn in a 360-degree panorama. ROSA: Cool! XAN: That's not what the stage looked like on the night, though. Just an ordinary house curtain. I'm not sure what that floral arrangement is all about. Anyway, as you can see, there are three tiers above the orchestra level, which might be one less than the Met. I sat in the front row of the First Tier, which is actually the second, because there's the Box Tier below that, the most expensive seats in the house. But my seat was great -- I got a good view of the entire stage, and I could hear perfectly. I'll tell you what's a little bizarre though -- they project the supertitles onto a screen that hangs inside the proscenium arch, instead of on the space above it. I guess people must have complained that it was too hard on their eyes to look way up to read them and then back down to the stage. But it's kind of annoying the way it hangs in front of the upper part of the set. GEORGE: How was the translation, by the way? XAN: It was pretty good -- it scanned, for one thing, so it was a singing translation rather than a literal one. But there were bits they skipped, as usual, which I find annoying, because sometimes they're important to the plot. And the translations of the recitatives were a bit more free form. ROSA: But that came later. What about now, as you were just arriving? Did you check to see whether you were on the list for going backstage afterward? XAN: Yes, I went back to the stage door and asked, but the guy who was there -- different guy, evening shift, I think -- said, "Not yet." Apparently my message was in a little pile of things that hadn't been attended to yet. GEORGE: Dios. Were you worried that you might not make it to the list? XAN: Not really. It wasn’t as if a decision had been made yet. The guy just said, come back afterward. So I did. ROSA: Well, we know you got in. But it must have been a little frustrating. XAN: Maybe a little. But I wasn’t going to let it spoil my enjoyment of the performance. ALEC: Sssso tell ussss about it, alrrrready. Xan strokes him and plays briefly with his tail. He puts up a languid paw, batting at her hand more for form’s sake than because he’s annoyed. She smoothes his whiskers and he closes his eyes to slits. XAN: So where shall I start? Did you look at the video of the 1982 Met production while I was gone? ALEC: Yesss … XAN: Well, imagine that same set, all that faux marble with Neptune's face carved in the back, only maybe resized for the Washington Opera stage -- I'm not sure, but I think they might have shrunk it a bit. And imagine the same costumes too -- recreated for this cast, of course. ALEC: Thossse hybrrrrid Grrrreek and 18th century clothessss? Loved the panniers on Elettrrrra … XAN: Right. Yes. The panniers were a stitch. Practically a prop all by themselves in the hands of -- or should I say, on the hips of -- Cynthia Lawrence. She just about stole the show with them a few times. She was way over the top, but in a good way. I know the Washington Post critic said he thought she overacted, but I think the part needs to be played that way. And the voice was great, too. Big and dramatic, good contrast with the Ilia. Especially in the last act aria. ALEC: That big demmmmented nummmmberrrr? That’ssss so ffffunny. XAN: Yes. That one. The audience loved it. ROSA: What about the other singers? Who else sang what parts? XAN: Well, Anna Netrebko sang Ilia, and the audience loved her. I understand she’s something of a house favorite in DC, and I can see why. The man sitting next to me said she was "stunning," and although I think he meant to look at, she was stunning vocally as well. Here's a picture of her.
And Jossie Perez sang Idamante -- I’ve heard her on Met broadcasts, but this was her house debut in Washington. Come to think of it, I think she was one of the Cretan women in the performance of Idomeneo the Met broadcast last January. So she’s moved up to Idamante. GEORGE: How was she? That’s a trouser role, isn’t it? Was she convincing as a man? XAN: Not really. But you don’t expect that. Here's a picture of her with Anna Netrebko that will give you some idea.
They did a pretty good job disguising her, uh … natural attributes, though. In fact, when I saw her afterwards I was astounded that the costumers were able to achieve the effect of a flat chest on her. But of course when she sings she has a woman’s voice; it couldn’t be otherwise. I think the people sitting next to me were a little taken aback by the whole travesti thing, though. I don’t know why -- surely they’ve seen Nozze di Figaro or Rosenkavalier. They were subscribers of ten years’ standing, after all. GEORGE: Well, but isn’t Idomeneo a little different? XAN: Not that much. ROSA: Was she good, this Jossie Perez? XAN: Yes, I liked her very much. Very strong mezzo quality -- not like some of the dramatic soprano-wannabes that you hear. Very colorful. I think she was nervous though -- she went a little sharp now and then early on. But by the end of the performance I think she’d found her groove. ROSA: Good, I’m glad. Who else was there? XAN: A tenor called Corey Evan Rotz sang Arbace, and I quite liked him. A different quality of tenor voice than Plácido's, but strong and flexible. ROSA: And the High Priest? XAN: Was sung by someone called Robert Baker. He was okay, but I wasn’t as impressed with him. I guess his voice type and his vision of the part just didn’t really line up with mine. ALEC: Which issssn’t his fffffault … XAN: Of course not. He did a good job. ROSA: Oh, enough about these other people. Tell us about HIM. Was he healthy? Was he in good voice? What was it like to hear him in person? Come on. That was what you went for, wasn’t it? Xan smiles at Rosa. XAN: Yes, it was. But there’s an art to the building up of suspense. Alec hisses. ALEC: Fffforget ssssussssspensssse. Get on with it. XAN: <teasing> Don't you want to hear about the conductor and the chorus? Alec swipes a paw at her. ALEC: Laterrrr. Or wherrrre it's rrrrelevant. ROSA: Alec's right. Get to the good parts. XAN: Okay, okay. She settles in more comfortably. XAN: So. Well, as you can imagine, as soon as HE entered, my focus shifted to HIM and stayed there. Actually, the way that entrance is handled, he spends about a minute flat on his face on the floor with about four other guys in armor, so you can only guess which one is him, though obviously he'd be the one in the center. Of course he's waiting for his cue while everybody from the previous scene gets off the stage. GEORGE: Yes, the scene changes were a little odd I wasn't sure what was going on . XAN: Well, I don't know whether it was an experiment or not, but Mozart wrote right through the scene changes -- there's no place to stop and change sets or anything, so if you're producing this thing you've got to figure out ways to make the transitions with as little wasted time as possible. GEORGE: I see. Well, go on. XAN: So HE picks himself up and starts to sing, and I've got the high beams turned on him. ROSA: Did you bring opera glasses? XAN: No, I didn't. I thought about it, but I don't like them, I find them too distracting. I just relied on my own contact lens-assisted eyes, such as they were. I was wishing I had had both long-distance lenses, though, instead of having to put up with the monovision version of eyesight. It made focusing a little harder than it needed to be. But I managed. ROSA: So how did he look? How did he sound? XAN: In a word, to both, good. Sue had seen him at the dress rehearsal a couple of days before I talked to her, and she said that he'd lost some weight, got rid of the puffiness around the jowls -- here's a picture from the cover of the Washington Opera magazine -- although she wasn't sure if that was on purpose or because he hadn't been well.
She didn't say anything directly about his health, though with all the talk of allergies and such during his performances of Andrea Chénier at the Met I'm sure she knew there was some concern. But I could see that she was right; there was less of a double chin, and his face didn't have as much of the roundness as it's taken on in recent years. As for the rest of him, well, he still takes up a lot of space. Everybody chuckles. XAN: I can't say that the leather body armor was totally flattering either, but considering what Pavarotti looked like when he wore it, it worked a whole lot better on Plácido. In fact, I can show you some pictures of that too.
The first one is for comparison, taken when he did the same production for the Metropolitan Opera in 1994. Then here are a couple from this production
ROSA: Oooh, bare legs. XAN: Yes, in his first scene in Act I, anyway. Then in the second half of the act he changed into a more formal version, sort of dress armor, and you can see he's wearing tights now.
Nice legs, still, whether bare or covered. And you see them in action a fair amount. In his first scene he has to pick himself up, then go down on one knee again, and up and down ... Sue said she was a little worried about his knees because at the dress rehearsal he apparently lost his balance at one point. She told him afterwards to be careful, saying that her knees were the same age and she couldn't do what he was supposed to do. ALEC: I'll bet he blew it offff, though. XAN: More or less. He told her, "Don't worry" -- like she wouldn't anyway. I can just hear him saying it, too. GEORGE: So he didn't have a problem in the performance? XAN: No. There was a moment when he wavered a bit, but it looked deliberate, like he was giving the impression of a man who's just been washed ashore half dead. Have you ever tried to climb back onto the beach out of the ocean? I have. And in the Dead Sea, what's more. You feel like you're on Jupiter. And I think that's how he was acting it. I wondered if maybe he was remembering the time he nearly drowned off that beach at Tel Aviv, what -- nearly forty years ago. ROSA: And the voice? XAN: I thought he sounded good. He seemed secure and focused, but not overpowering. I wasn't sure what to expect, really, since I'd only ever heard him on CDs and videos. I didn't know how his voice was going to fill the house, or if it was. I mean, I was a little worried by those reports from New York about allergies or supposed illness or whatever. I thought it was possible that he might be a little underpowered. ROSA: But he didn't seem to be in distress? XAN: No. He was quite audible, without blasting you out of your seat. Well, maybe a note or two was covered by the orchestra in a couple of the softer passages, but that was true of everybody at one point or another. The conductor wasn't holding back at all. GEORGE: They don't amplify anything, do they? XAN: No, not at all. Thank goodness. Everybody's on the same acoustical level there. It would be awful if houses started miking operas. ROSA: So he seemed to be comfortable? XAN: I think so. I don't know what "comfortable" amounts to in an opening night performance when you've just come off a run where you had to leave a performance before the end because you were too sick to continue. I don't know what was going through his mind, whether he was confident or worried. He'd had maybe a week and a half to rest and recover and rehearse. GEORGE: But you were worried about him, weren't you? XAN: Well, yes, I have to admit I was. Both on his behalf, because I don't want him to be in less than good health, and on my own behalf, more selfishly, because I didn't want to have traveled more than a thousand miles only to arrive and find out that he was too ill to go on. So, yeah, I was worried. But on the whole it turned out fine. ALEC: On the whole? Sssso ssssommmmething did go wrrrrong? XAN: Well, kind of. There was a high note in his first act aria that just sort of disappeared. I can't say he cracked on it, exactly; more like swallowed it. It disappeared into his throat almost before I could tell that it wasn't going to come out, and he kept on going as if nothing had happened. GEORGE: As well he should. XAN: Well, of course. But I remember feeling my head snap back and thinking, "What just happened?" I tried replaying the run in my head -- of course it was the climax of a run -- but I couldn't, over the continuing of the music. ROSA: Did it sound really bad? XAN: Well, it didn't sound good. But it was over so quickly, there was no time to dwell on it. And by the end of the act he seemed to have found his groove. GEORGE: What about his acting? I don't know this opera, but from watching that tape it seemed to me that the characters were moving about rather ... what's the word I want? XAN: Formally? GEORGE: That's as good a word as any. Not naturally, anyway. Like someone choreographed them. XAN: I think they did, to a large extent. And in this production it looked to me as if the director had a detailed account of everything everybody was supposed to do, replicated from the first staging back in 1982 -- not only for the blocking, but what they were supposed to do with their hands, everything. Stylized is another word for it. You can't expect it to look natural. GEORGE: I suppose not. But surely there was some leeway for personal expression? XAN: Oh, yes. There has to be. In this case, I think, mostly in facial expressions, which from where I was I couldn't see as well as I wished I could. But it was possible to see all of the singers express changes in emotional states through expression and gesture. Sometimes Plácido resorted to what I've seen one critic call the "clutch and stagger" school of opera acting, but not really that much. And he has this way of biting his lower lip when the character is in great distress that tends to carry over from one opera to the next. I saw him do that once or twice also. GEORGE: Well, even if it's a mannerism it can still be effective. XAN: Sure, as long as he varies it with other expressions. Which he certainly does. I remember particularly at the end of Act I, where Idomeneo tries to bring himself to embrace his son, whom he knows he will have to sacrifice to Neptune, and at the last second he can't do it. The pain that showed on Plácido's face when he turned away was just a stab to the heart. And the curtain came down on that. ROSA: Oooh. That sounds like an image that stuck. XAN: Yes. ALEC: Sssso did you go out and mmmmingle with the crowd at intermmmmisssssssion? Sssshow offff your clothessss and your necklacccce? Xan laughs. XAN: Actually, at the first intermission I spent most of the time in line for the loo. I couldn't believe it when I got to the head of the line and found that there were only four stalls in the women's bathroom that was expected to serve the upper part of the house. I think -- I hope -- there was another one somewhere else. But they desperately need to upgrade those facilities. I don't know if that's in the plans for the renovation or not. So no, I didn't really show off the ensemble, though anyone standing in the line that was interested would have had time to check it out. And after that there wasn't much time to do anything but go back to my seat. I talked a little to my seatmates again, but the lights went down pretty soon after I got back. ROSA: So there were two intermissions? XAN: Yes. There are three acts, so they chose the natural breaks. There wasn't much need for scene changes, so the intervals were pretty short. I think all they needed to do was move in a bit of furniture for the second act. Alec stretches himself slightly and curls more tightly against her side. She passes a hand down over his spine and he closes his eyes in pleasure. XAN: Act II begins in a council chamber or some kind of room in the palace where Idomeneo and Arbace can be private. GEORGE: And who is Arbace, anyway? XAN: The libretto doesn't say. I think we're meant to assume that he's been Idomeneo's stand-in while he's been gone -- regent to Idamante, maybe. Otherwise why would he be in Idomeneo's confidence? GEORGE: Then he'd be pretty horrified when Idomeneo tells him that Idamante is going to have to be a sacrifice to Neptune. XAN: Yes, very. He's probably been been a father figure to the boy while Idomeneo has been off fighting. When Idomeneo asks him what he should do to avoid having to sacrifice Idamante, Arbace tells him to send Idamante away, and sings a big aria in which he reassures Idomeneo that he is willing to do anything he can to help. That's probably the only reward the singer gets for this relatively thankless part -- his other aria, later on in Act III, was cut, probably because it would have slowed the not-very-fast forward movement of the story down even further. ROSA: And you said the singer was -- XAN: Corey Evan Rotz. I thought he did a good job. I liked the quality of his sound, and he certainly had good control in the coloratura. And he managed to put enough expression into it that you weren't just snoozing and waiting for something to happen. He got a nice round of well-deserved applause. ROSA: Good. XAN: Then Ilia comes on, and she gets a big long aria too. All about how, since her father is dead, she is starting to look on Idomeneo as a father, and on Crete as her home. Anna Netrebko did full justice to it, I thought. I'm not much for sopranos in the usual way, but I wouldn't mind hearing more of her. Here are a couple of pictures of her with Plácido during the aria.
So anyway, after spending at least twenty minutes, maybe more, on stage with nothing much to do but listen to other people sing, Plácido gets his turn. First he has a recitative in which Idomeneo expresses his fear that Ilia and Idamante are in love, and that if he has to go through with sacrificing Idamante, three people will die: Idamante by the sword, and Ilia and himself of grief. Then comes the big number, "Fuor del mar". GEORGE: Did he sing the same version of it that we saw Luciano Pavarotti sing in that video of the Met production? I thought you said there was another version. XAN: Yes, there is, but you don't hear it too often. It's far more difficult, with a lot of tricky coloratura. They didn't use it in the production you saw on tape, and they didn't use it here. I've got a recording of George Shirley singing it if you want to hear it sometime. No, Plácido sang the low-fat version, as he always has. ROSA: And how was it? I seem to recall you were worried about how he would get through it. XAN: Yes, I was. It's kind of the make-or-break for him in this opera, and it has its own set of difficulties You recall that some of the concerns about the allergy problems or illness or whatever was plaguing him in New York had to do with how his breathing and his high notes were affected. Well, "Fuor del mar" only goes up to an A, but he'd already swallowed one A in the first act aria, so it was a bit nervous-making to anticipate the As in this one. GEORGE: How did it go? Xan pauses for a moment and a shadow deepens briefly under her eyebrows. Rosa frowns, and George looks grave. XAN: I wish I could say it was great. Or really good, even. It was ... adequate. With a few spots that really were good. The other two watch her without saying anything, waiting for her to continue. XAN: Mind you, these were only my impressions, but I was paying as close attention as I could. And it seemed to me that he never really got comfortable in it. I don't know if he was nervous about it himself, or what, but I thought that it seemed like he was breathing short, huffing and puffing here and there, not getting the attacks right on the button. Of course he is supposed to rush about the stage very agitatedly, which doesn’t help. He started out okay, maybe a bit underpowered, but it seemed like the phrasings were a little choppy, as if he were using the emotion of the piece as a justification for shortness of breath. Which is a reasonable interpretation. The sound of the voice was fine -- I didn't hear any hoarseness or strain. But there was one place where it sounded like he was clearing his throat, and unfortunately it took him so long to swallow whatever he'd hawked up that he missed the first word on the reprise of "Fuor del mar." ROSA: Ouch. That must have been painfully obvious. XAN: Well, it was. But he carried on as if it hadn't happened, just like the other time. GEORGE: Of course. That's what performers do. Whatever they may be feeling inside. XAN: And he's the consummate professional. Xan clears her own throat, perhaps in sympathy with the memory. XAN: You know, I've listened to him sing this a lot on recordings, so I know it reasonably well, and I found myself mouthing the words along with him. GEORGE: Keep him breathing by sympathetic magic? XAN: Something like that. GEORGE: And comparing the version you'd heard on recordings with what he was singing at the moment, no doubt. Wondering if there'd be some kind of rearrangement to avoid some possible trouble spots? Xan's lip twitches, but she doesn't quite smile. XAN: Hoping there wouldn't be, is more like it. GEORGE: And were there? XAN: Mmmm. A couple of things, not huge, but definitely noticeable if you've memorized the aria. There was one long run on the word "minacciar" which he actually broke up into three parts, repeating the word instead of holding onto it, apparently so he could snatch tiny gasps of air between them. That snapped my head right back. Then there was the final phrase of the piece, with the high A. ROSA: And did he hit it? XAN: Well, yes. But not in the way I was expecting. GEORGE: How do you mean? XAN: It's hard to explain music in words. GEORGE: Can you show us? Xan thinks a moment, then snaps her fingers for the image window she had used before. XAN: I think so. The window shows a page from an orchestral score.
ALEC: What issss that? XAN: It's the last page of the aria we're talking about. This line -- She snaps her fingers and one of the staves is buttonized for emphasis.
XAN: -- is what Idomeneo is supposed to sing. ROSA: That looks really strange. She points at the symbols on the extreme left end of the staff for Idomeneo's vocal line. ROSA: What is that thing? And the sharps are in the wrong places. XAN: That's a tenor clef. It changes the location of middle C on the staff. The sharps are in their correct places, if you figure that the second line from the top of the staff is middle C. ROSA: Oh. I get it. Or at least I probably will if I study it enough to get used to it. XAN: I know what you mean. I have a hard time with C clefs of all sorts. Here, let me transpose it to a G clef and get rid of the orchestra. Xan snaps her fingers again and the image is simplified.
XAN: Is that better? It's the last two lines of the aria. I added a couple of notes from the previous page to complete the first phrase. ROSA: Yes, that's better, thanks. XAN: Okay, now look at the second to last bar of the second line. See how it goes down to a G, up to an A, then up to the D in the next bar? That's what Mozart wrote. But that's not what Plácido has sung, either on his recording or in performance. GEORGE: Well, for one thing, there's no high A there. I thought you said that was the high point of the aria. XAN: It is. I'll show you what it would look like if the score reflected what he's actually sung. She snaps her fingers again and a couple of the notes jump up above the top of the staff. The changed score freezes in the window
XAN: See? The G and the A are now an octave up. That's what he's been singing on recordings, and in previous performances. High A and all. GEORGE: So what did he sing at this performance? And why did you say he hit the A but not like you expected? XAN: Because the last two bars were entirely different. At first I thought he had cheated and not taken the A. But then I realized that it was there, it just came sooner and didn't last as long. Look, I'll show you what the difference looks like. Another snap, and the notes in the last two bars of the music rearrange themselves again.
XAN: This was what he sang in the performance. GEORGE: I see. But why, do you suppose? XAN: I don't know. I assume all the changes were decided on way in advance, with the collaboration of the conductor -- I seriously doubt he was going to sneak them in under her nose at the last second. But I don't really know the reason for it. ROSA: How did the audience respond? Do you think they noticed the changes? XAN: I doubt it. I'm sure they noticed the missed entrance, but they obviously didn't care, which was good. No, they thought he was great. Loud applause, and I heard some bravos. I clapped, of course, but I had too big of a lump in my throat to yell anything. ROSA: Why? XAN: I guess because I was sad that he had seemed to have a hard time with it, and because I was proud of him for gutting it out. More sad, though. It's not that tough a piece. It made me wonder how much trouble he'd been having over the month or so before that. But how does anyone find out the truth? ROSA: I don't know. But I sympathize with your concern. XAN: Thanks. She snaps the image window away and leans back against the cushions again. XAN: Anyway, after that he was off the stage for a while, and Cynthia Lawrence got her chance, with Elettra's big number in this act. This character is -- well, let's say that maybe nowadays she'd be diagnosed with some kind of mood disorder, if not as bipolar. First act, she's angry because Idamante prefers Ilia to her. In this act, she's happy because she's going home and Idamante has been told to escort her, to get him out of the range of Neptune's wrath. Next act, well, you'll see. Anyway, Cynthia Lawrence had the audience right where she wanted them. I was very impressed with her. Here's a picture of her.
ROSA: Isn't the character supposed to be sort of unbalanced? To be sure that everyone's relieved when she doesn't get her wish to be queen of Crete? XAN: Probably. At any rate, I think that's how this production chose to have her played. And I think it worked. ROSA: Isn't she in for a disappointment here, after all her fantasizing about making Idamante forget about her? XAN: She sure is. Everything seems to be going her way at first -- the sun is shining, the sea is calm, the chorus is doing some of their best work with "Placido è il mar" -- I was really impressed with the chorus, by the way. They did a fabulous job. Made me a little nostalgic for the days when I had an idea I wanted to be an opera chorus singer. GEORGE: Seriously? XAN: Well, semi-seriously, at any rate. I don't know if I could have done it, and I'll never know now, because I never gave myself the chance. I'll tell you about it some other time. Anyway, that particular chorus was always something of an inspiration to me in that regard, although since then my sights have been trained on Act III of Otello. ALEC: What'sssssssssss that line about one's rrrrreach exceeding one's grrrrassssp? XAN: Oh, hush, cat. Never mind that for now. When Elettra and the chorus have set up the situation for this scene, Idomeneo and Idamante come in. Idamante, of course, is going to board the ship with Elettra, and Idomeneo is there to see him off. In this production Ilia is present, though she doesn't have anything to sing. She's there for Idamante to gaze longingly at, and at one point address by name. But the big number here is the trio of Elettra, Idamante and Idomeneo. And that, I have got to say, was wonderful. ROSA: I'm glad. XAN: Me too. I don't know what Plácido did backstage after "Fuor del mar," if he just got a drink of water or a hit off an oxygen tank or what. But when he came back, the voice was there in spades. It was exactly what I'd come to hear, and at that point I think I was choking up not out of sadness but with joy. When he challenged Neptune to take him as the sacrifice and not demand the blood of an innocent -- you'd have thought that there was suddenly a pipe organ on stage. All his colors were there, and the focus and balance and volume -- just remembering it now it's still a thrill. That act ends in darkness, with everybody running from the sea monster, but I felt like I'd just been bathed in sunlight. ROSA: I'm so glad. Alec starts to purr under her hand, and she gathers him into her lap, stroking him and smiling at the memory.. ROSA: What did you do at the second intermission? XAN: Well, the first thing I did was to find a postcard to send to an opera fan I know who likes to collect postcards from all over. I was hoping for one that would have Plácido's picture on it, or at least a picture from the opera or something, but I had to settle for a big one that was just a shot of the interior of the house and the stage. Then I thought I'd get something to drink, but the warning bells went off while I was still in line, so I changed my mind. I wouldn't have been able to finish anything I'd bought, especially if it was alcoholic, before the third act started. So I went back to my seat and talked to the fellow on my right some more. Turned out he'd been to Minneapolis, and we tracked his memory back to a performance of the Solzhenitsyn play in 1968 that he had attended. I saw it too, when I was a sophomore in high school -- that was how we were able to pinpoint the year. ROSA: How funny. XAN: It was, a little. Anyway, it passed the time till curtain. ROSA: And how did Act III go? XAN: Very well. I think all of them, Plácido included, had settled in and were having a good time. My other favorite bit is in this act, the quartet with Ilia, Elettra, Idamante and Idomeneo, and that went really well. I wasn't worried any more, and I could just sit back and enjoy it. And I also like the scene in which Idomeneo almost loses his nerve and can't bring himself to sacrifice his son, until Idamante persuades him that he is willing to give up his life. That was very effective too. GEORGE: And isn't there a sort of mad scene for Elettra there at the end? XAN: Kind of. At least, she flies into a rage because Neptune has declared that Idomeneo should abdicate in favor of Idamante and approved of Idamante and Ilia's marriage, so she knows she's lost any chance to be queen. Cynthia Lawrence played it the same over-the-top way as you saw Hildegard Behrens do it on the video, flinging herself all over the stage and appearing to brush invisible snakes off herself. By the end of it, she falls down in a fit and gets carried off by four of the priests of Neptune. It was a riot, and the audience just loved it. She probably got the biggest hand of the night after that. GEORGE: What does everybody else do while she's melting down in front of them? XAN: Pretty much just stand there and stare, as if she were some sort of traffic accident. Except for Idomeneo, who just turns his back on her. That looks kind of funny, but it makes a certain amount of sense. She's nothing to do with him; he just wants to get on with handing the crown over to Idamante and going off for a nice long rest, I fancy. ROSA: And he does. XAN: Yes. And then at the end, he finally gets to smile. Plácido has said that one of the things that draws him to this opera is the character's tremendous suffering, that he can't smile until the very end. He certainly gets that across, both the suffering and the joy at the end. ROSA: And then everybody sings a hymn to Hymen, and they all go home. Xan laughs. XAN: I guess so. Certainly the audience did. Although first they applauded the performers with great appreciation, I was glad to see. And yelled. A few people even stood up. GEORGE: Did you? XAN: No, actually, I didn't. I wished I thought I could, but much as I enjoyed it, it wasn't quite the electrifying experience that brings me out of my seat. ROSA: But you weren't disappointed? XAN: Not at all. I enjoyed the heck out of it. And I really want to do it again. GEORGE: Well, start working on putting the money together, and you will. XAN: Once I've decided what I want to see, I will. Considering how much it takes to travel halfway across the country, I can't just go to everything he does. GEORGE: I'm sure there will be viable options. XAN: Oh, yes. I know about a few already. And one possibility I'm not sure about -- but I'll get to that later. GEORGE: Right. Tell us about what happened after the performance. Obviously you got backstage, but at that point you didn't know whether you were on the list or not. XAN: Yes. I said good-bye to the people I was sitting next to and went to the loo again just to be on the safe side. Then I went down to the stage door and asked if I'd been put on the list to go backstage. ROSA: And you had. XAN: Yes. So I was happy. I stood about with a bunch of other people who were waiting to get in too. There was a woman who was sort of doing sentry duty, telling people they'd have to wait until the performers were ready to be seen. Well, duh. GEORGE: Seguro. They wouldn't want to have people in while they were cleaning off the makeup and taking off their costumes. XAN: Exactly. So it was maybe fifteen minutes before they let us go down. Most of the rest of them seemed to know where to go, so I just followed them. One funny thing -- the woman walking down the stairs ahead of me had on the same kind of pants-skirt thing that I was wearing. I think hers were probably silk, though, not polyester. ROSA: Well, at least you had confirmation of your taste. XAN: I guess. Anyway, we got down there, and found what's basically the intersection of two featureless corridors, one of which has the dressing rooms. I didn't see Plácido anywhere, and I'd missed whatever it was that was said about where to find people, so I sort of wandered down the dressing room corridor looking for the names on the doors. It wasn't until I was coming back up the hall that I saw him -- he'd been on the first room on the right, which is logical. I don't know how I missed seeing that. Anyway, there he was, and he wasn't even dressed, as such, just wearing a long gray kimono with a diamond pattern and flecks of yellow in it. Remember my first picture? She snaps up the image window again and displays the first of the two pictures.
ROSA: I like the chest hair. Xan chuckles. XAN: He certainly didn't seen self-conscious about being seen like that. Although later -- well, I'll get to that. Anyway, there he was, and he was greeting a short line of people, so I put myself at the end of it just as he turned to the last person. GEORGE: So it worked out to be good timing then. What did you do? XAN. Well, I put my hand out to shake his and said, "I'm Xan Laurence, and I flew all the way from Minneapolis just to see this." Or words to that effect. ROSA: I'll bet that got his attention. XAN: Yes -- although he's the sort of person who focuses on whoever he is talking to at the moment, so I don't think it would have mattered what I said. ROSA: What did he say? XAN: Just, "Ah, sí?" But he took my hand in both of his and turned a little to face me more directly. I was trying to put my next sentence together -- all of a sudden it was a little hard to think properly. Alec makes a spitting noise, his equivalent of laughing. ALEC: The unflappable Xxxxan, tongue-tied in the pressssencccce of her herrrro? Xan gives the end of his tail a playful bite and heaves him off her lap. XAN: Stifle it, cat. I did have something in mind to say, like, "It was worth every mile," -- trite, I know, but true -- but before I could get it out, he totally threw me for a loop. ROSA: What do you mean? What did he do? XAN: He said, "Are you a relative of Cynthia's?" GEORGE: Why on earth -- ? XAN: I know, that was my first reaction too. And I must have looked as confused as I felt because somebody -- not him, I don't think -- said, "Cynthia Lawrence." And of course then I twigged to it. And of course I told him, no, different spelling, no relation. As if my vacant expression hadn't already told him that I wasn't there because of her. And at that point the initiative sort of went elsewhere, what with all the other people wanting a word with him, and I lost my chance to say anything else. GEORGE: Well, at least you know he caught your name. XAN: Yes, I suppose so. But that's not much in the scheme of things. ROSA: But it's interesting that he didn't automatically assume it was he that you had come to see. XAN: I suppose so. Maybe if I'd said, "to see you," instead of "to see this," it would have been different. Or not, who knows. ROSA: It doesn't really matter at this point. What happened, happened. At least you got to shake his hand.. What was that like? XAN: Different than Í expected, I think. Knowing that he plays the piano, I think I was expecting a grip that was a little more sinewy or something. But his hands are rather soft. Actually, they reminded me of the handshake of someone else I know who plays piano and organ. Kind of loose, ready to move fast or forcefully. ROSA: But didn't you get a flutter when he took your hand in both of his? XAN: Why do you think I couldn't remember what I was going to say next? He has that effect. And it doesn't help that I never really have been able to say anything sensible when I meet someone I really admire. ALEC: And therrrreby hangssss a tale. XAN: Yes, and I'm not going to tell it here. There'll be other web pages for that. ROSA: Alec, stop teasing her and let her get on with it. What happened after that? XAN: Well, he was signing autographs, and I got him to sign the cast page in the program. Then I said, "I'd ask for a picture, but I imagine you want to be dressed" or something like that. GEORGE: And I imagine he said he didn't care, since you did get a shot of him wearing the kimono. XAN: Basically, yes. He said I was welcome to wait if I wanted, but it would probably be a while before he was ready. ROSA: So you decided to go for it then and there. XAN: Yes. I asked a very obliging woman if she would take the picture, told her which button to press, and prayed. GEORGE: And the flash didn't go off. XAN: Right. I'd have sworn I had it on the right setting, but no. And I wasn't going to make him stand around waiting while I figured it out. So I just had to be content with that shot. I tried to capture him a couple of times as he was moving around the hall, but those didn't turn out at all. So I decided to wait until he'd got dressed and try again. He posed for more people and signed more autographs, and then he went to get dressed. GEORGE: And was it a long wait? XAN: Actually, I never looked at my watch. It was a while, but I talked to a few other people who were waiting as well. And it was there that a couple of people admired my necklace and earrings. I told them that Deirdre had made them, and I pointed out the various kinds of beads. One of the women -- the better-dressed one, if that's not too crass -- said, "Does she sell them?" meaning bead jewelry. "Does she have a shop?" And I said, "She wants to." Sell things, anyway -- maybe not have a shop as such. Anyway, the woman said, "She'll do well with it." ROSA: What a nice compliment! GEORGE: It's no more than the truth. XAN: I know. It was nice to hear. Anyway, I talked to the other woman a little, and while we were waiting more fans came down. And amongst the second wave were four women who were probably in their sixties or seventies, accompanied by a man who was also probably sixty-something. At first I didn't pay much attention to them, but then I saw them signing to each other and I couldn't help taking furtive looks. Not that I could make out anything they were saying -- I've forgotten ninety-nine percent of the sign language I learned. But I was fascinated by the idea that here were deaf opera fans, coming to see a favorite singer. ROSA: How do deaf people know what's happening in an opera? XAN: Same way most people who don't understand the language being sung do -- through the supertitles. At least that was what the man who was with them said. He was apparently there as an interpreter, but I think these particular women must have had some hearing. Actually, that comes into the story a little later. For now, we're just all waiting for Plácido to emerge from his dressing room again. But while we were waiting, other people were coming and going too, and we saw a man, not really young, but not quite middle-aged, who looked an awful lot like Plácido. I concluded it must be Plácido, Jr. because he looked to be about my height, and the pictures and video footage I've seen of him and his brothers seems to indicate that he's the shortest of the three boys. He was speaking Spanish to a couple of people who had come down to visit, and when they left he turned to go into his father's dressing room and he saw us all standing there ready to pounce. He said, "Hi," in almost an embarrassed kind of way, which seemed a little strange. ROSA: That does seem odd. Surely he must be used to encountering his father's fans all over the place. XAN: I'd have thought so. Who knows. Anyway, we all said hi back. But I kind of wish now that I'd said something to him about how much I've enjoyed the songs of his which his father has recorded, but I didn't. Oh well. GEORGE: I wouldn't dwell on it. Go on with the story. XAN: Well, it wasn't long after that that Plácido Senior came out again, this time in black tie. I was kind of hoping for tails, but those are really work clothes, not party wear. He posed for pictures again, and I asked someone to snap me with him a second time. And in spite of all my messing with it while I was waiting, the flash didn't fire again, darn it. But the result isn't bad, after a little doctoring. She snaps the image window up to show the second picture again.
XAN: That was when I got to put my arm around his waist and feel the texture of his jacket. Heavy silk, with an amazing hand, like soft, supple steel. ROSA: Sounds nice. ALEC: Ssssoundssss exxxxpenssssive. XAN: Don't be crass. ROSA: Did he sign autographs or have his picture taken with the deaf women? XAN: Autographs, yes. I don't remember about pictures. Someone did take a picture of the group while they were waiting, but I don't know if they got a shot with him. I couldn't tell what he made of their speech -- at least one of them spoke to him, I'm sure, though I didn't hear what she said. I think I was still waiting for my turn for a picture, probably messing with the camera. ROSA: I'd be curious to know what he thought, if he realized they were deaf. XAN: Me too. But who knows, maybe he meets lots of deaf fans. He certainly seemed to take them in stride. She smiles at the memory. XAN: It was about this time, I think -- during the picture taking, anyway -- that someone asked him, "When are you going to bring us Otello?" and I thought to myself, "Oh my God. What's he going to say?" Part of me wanted to say, "Please don't," and part of me was waiting to hear him tell them that he was going to do it. GEORGE: What did he say? XAN: I don't remember his exact words, but he didn't say either "Never" or "Soon." It sounded like a sort of "I'd like to" waffle, not committing himself. But I was standing there thinking, "Are you nuts?" ROSA: But you didn't say that out loud, did you? XAN: No, I didn't. I should have. I wish I had. ALEC: That would ccccertainly have gotten hisss attention. XAN: I don't doubt it. Actually, it probably would have gotten me savaged by the fans who were asking him. You could tell that they reeeeeeeally wanted to hear him say, "Tomorrow." As it was, I think they went home in a more hopeful frame of mind. ROSA: And you? XAN: I was pretty torn, myself. I would love to see him do that role live, more than any other part in his repertoire. At the same time, considering the trouble he was having with Idomeneo, which is not a demanding part at all, I just blanch to think what Otello will do to him. It could be deadly. GEORGE: Well, he didn't commit himself, did he? He may not do it. XAN: He didn't commit himself then. But later -- well, that's getting ahead of the story a little. Let me finish off the opening night story, and then I'll get to the part about Otello. ROSA: So what happened after the photo session and the rest of the autograph signings and such? He left for his party? XAN: Yes. We all waved as he headed off down the corridor, and we went back up to the entrance level. One of the deaf women also had mobility challenges -- I think she had cerebral palsy -- and used a walker, so we took the elevator up. And on the way I talked to the man who was with the deaf women -- his name was Justin -- just general chat, mostly, but I did ask him about how deaf people follow an opera, and he mentioned the supertitles. He didn't really say anything about how they actually experience the music, though. But he did talk -- and talk -- and talk -- about other things. We must have stood there for half an hour, the women signing away to each other, the man chattering away to me, until two of the women left and I was thinking about how I could politely excuse myself and go back to the hotel to process the evening's experience -- not to mention getting off my feet. I was beginning to notice them again. GEORGE: How did you finally get away? XAN: Well, I didn't, not really. The shuttle to the Foggy Bottom Metro station had stopped running, and the two women and Justin were waiting on a special cab service that was supposed to come and pick up the woman with the walker, Sally. But the cab didn't show, and didn't show, and they were trying to put together some kind of Plan B via Sally's pager and Justin's cell phone. Then all of a sudden Sally's ride arrived, and it transpired that for a buck apiece, the driver would drop the other three of us off wherever we wanted to go. ROSA: How nice. XAN: That's what we thought. And we all took him up on it. So I didn't have to walk to Foggy Bottom and take the Metro back to the hotel. ROSA: I'll bet your feet were glad. XAN: Were they ever. But it was a typical cab ride -- too fast, too many yellow lights, and a hairpin turn at a speed that made me almost squash poor Sally as I slid into her. I was glad it wasn't longer than it was. We dropped Justin and the other woman, Janet, off -- I refused an invitation to have coffee with them, and thank goodness I did -- I'd probably have gotten to bed at three in the morning. GEORGE: You figure Justin would have bent your ear some more? XAN: I have no doubt of it. And he wasn't boring, exactly -- it was just that I wanted to be thinking about something else. ROSA: I can understand that. What time did you actually get back to the hotel? XAN: About 12:30, I think. I was next to be dropped off after Justin and Janet. And as we were driving to the hotel, Sally asked me if I lived on Thomas Circle -- she had obviously picked up on the fact that that was where I was being dropped off -- and I explained that that was where my hotel was. She apparently had enough hearing to understand me when I said, "Holiday Inn," because I think it was too dark in the cab to read lips. Then she asked me where I was from, and I said, "Minneapolis," and she repeated that, so I know she understood that. Then she blew me away. She said, "Plácido Domingo has a beautiful voice." ROSA: But -- XAN: I know. I sort of missed a beat, and then I said, "Yes, he does." And she said, "Heavenly." Just like that. ROSA: But how does she know? XAN: I don't know. I assume she has some hearing, and has listened to enough singing to be able to compare his voice with others. "Beautiful" can't exist in a vacuum. But I have no idea how she experiences his voice. Does she hear just some frequencies, and are they high or low or in the middle? Does she hear the full range but at a lower volume? I would have liked to ask her more, but we got to the hotel before I could even think of a question. But it just sort of put that last little touch on the evening, to know that even hearing-impaired people appreciate his singing. The three humans smile at each other, and Alec puts his head on Xan's thigh and purrs. ROSA: So that was it? XAN: Except for the mundane tasks of getting packed up and getting home, yes. I'd gotten what I'd come for. ROSA: And how did you feel about it? XAN: Like it was worth every mile, every minute and every penny. Even the sore feet. Even the bits in "Fuor del mar" where he scared me. GEORGE: Would you do it again? XAN: Of course. ROSA: Weren't you a little disappointed by the backstage part, though? XAN: I don't think disappointed is the word. Sure I'd have liked to have been more sensible and had a chance to actually converse with him, but I know what backstage is like, and I didn't have my hopes set really high. I got to meet him, shake his hand, have pictures taken with him -- that was as much as I could reasonably expect. And I realized something that kind of put it into perspective for me. GEORGE: What was that? XAN: Well, as I watched him back there, talking to people, signing things, posing, I realized that, affable and charming though he was, he wasn't a hundred percent there. I don't mean that in a bad way. Just that he wasn't, I don't know, his total self. ROSA: I'm not sure I understand. XAN. I think that he is only really fully himself, alive and whole, when he's out there on the stage, immersed in the music and the performance. That's what I went to see, and that's what I saw. Colds, allergies, breathing problems aside, he was all there on the stage. GEORGE: So you wouldn't care if you never met him in person again? Xan grins. XAN: Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say that. But I'm guessing that it would be the same kind of encounter all over again. I figure that the only way to see him being his complete and total self offstage is to work with him ROSA: Wouldn't that be cool. XAN: It would. But unless he needs a librarian or a researcher, I'd say the odds are poor. Never mind. At least I can make chances to go see him perform again. ROSA: As Otello? XAN: Who knows? That's kind of the coda to this story. I told Sue in an email that Plácido had been asked about doing it in Washington, and that he had not ruled the idea out, and she answered a couple of days later, saying that he had said, on live TV, that he was going to do it again at the Met, and bring it to Washington! ROSA: Oh God. XAN: That's what I said. She said that it wasn't likely to happen soon, because the Kennedy Center is being closed for renovations, but that if and when it did she was going to get a block of tickets, and should she put me down for one, or was that a silly question? ROSA: And was it? XAN: Of course. I dearly want to see him do it, which is why I think my evil genius kept me from blurting out, "Are you nuts?" when he was asked the question. The possibility is scary, and yet somehow exhilarating. And maybe that's the way it seems to him too. The role is demanding and exhausting even for a man twenty years younger than he is. But it has rewards beyond price. ROSA: But who knows what kind of shape he'll be in two or three years from now, or whenever this production would be mounted? XAN: Exactly. If he keeps going the way he has been, he'll burn himself out before he ever gets the chance to do it. But if he slows down and paces himself, I believe that he has the potential for one last great interpretation of it. And I mean singing it as it's written -- not with transpositions and glossed-over high notes. But if he's really serious about doing it, he should train for it as if it were a marathon -- maybe starting right now. If he takes the proper steps to prepare himself, and the proper precautions in case he finds that it's beyond him after all, he may yet succeed. GEORGE: Or not. XAN: Or not. It's a crap-shoot, really. Which is why I'd like to be able to tell him why, much though I love him, I don't want to see him crash and burn in this part. I'd rather see him fool all the vultures who'll be hovering, and soar high above them. But you know what I'd really like to see? GEORGE: What? XAN: I'd like to see him do Iago. Anne mentioned that, and the idea just gave me a thrill. ROSA: But isn't Iago a baritone role? XAN: Yes, but Plácido has been saying he may eventually snap back to the baritone he was in his youth. And he has said that if and when he does, he'd like to sing Simon Boccanegra, a baritone role, as a sort of final farewell to the opera stage. But I think Iago would be a much more challenging and fascinating role for him to embrace. He's said that he was sorry that he had no villains in his repertoire, and so am I, sort of. It would be fascinating to watch him be evil. And I think he has the making of a great Iago. Oooooooooh. Just thinking about it gives me chills. I wish there were a way to tell him that we'd like to see him do that. GEORGE: There is. Write him a letter. Explain your thoughts on the subject. How you feel about the possibility of his doing Otello again, and what the potential advantages there might be to trying Iago instead. You might feel better about the whole thing. XAN: Or maybe I'll feel even more of a fool. GEORGE: That's up to you. You don't have to. XAN: Write the letter? Or feel like a fool? GEORGE: Either one. It's entirely your choice. XAN: Well, maybe I'll think about it. I could put something up here, I suppose -- an open letter to Plácido: "Another Otello? How about Iago Instead?" GEORGE: It would be a start. But it would probably be better if he actually saw it ... XAN: I know. I'll think about it. But for now, my story's finished. Rosa and George embrace
Xan, and Alec jumps onto her lap and starts purring. ©2002 Xan Laurence |
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