Canadian artist David Altmejd's solo exhibition at the Arnold and Marie Schwartz Gallery is connected to the premiere of John Adam's Doctor Atomic. This all-glass mirror contemporary sculpture many parts of which are cracked or broken symbolizes the effect of the first atomic bomb.
The Kneeling Woman : Monument to Debussy by the French sculptor Aristide Maillol grace the grand staircase of the Metropolitan Opera. It was originally created for a monument at Claude Debussy's birthplace, Saint-Germain-en-Laye.
Today's program was Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice conducted by the renowned James Levine. Written for an alto castrato, the role of Orfeo was played by mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe. The way she was made-up she sure looked like Rosie O'Donnell from a distance. The dancers appear as characters throughout the opera their costumes were contemporary and the choreography a bit modern. Hopping and skipping at the conclusion of the opera, one man's comment was, "There goes your Greek myth of Orpheus. I'll take Jerome Robbins anytime".
I take that as a thumbs down for the dance component.
The chorus was pure delight, it reminds me of Nabucco - Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves. The 100-member chorus played a major role and were fitted with Isaac Mizrahi's costumes representing historical personalities from Moses to Callas to Gandhi to Jimi Hendrix. It was easy to miss the beautiful creations, unless you paid for premium seats, since the choir members were standing on three-tier levels on stage. Thank goodness for opera glasses. The action of the chorus is played by the dancers and the dance music was plenty.
The famous Act III aria Che faro (sung here by Marilyn Horne) and Act II aria Che puro ciel (sung here by Kathleen Ferrier) were probably the highest point of this production of Orfeo.
To me it was more of a dance drama, something different and I'm not strictly a rigid follower of and limited to the classical style of the opera productions. The music superb and the singing heartrending, but the stage design and the choreography is the sort of thing one either warms up to or dislike altogether.
I also found it odd that Amor, the god of love was dressed in a pink golf shirt and a pair of khaki pants with milk-white little wings on his back. It didn't seem to fit.
Nothing is set in stone, not even in the musical productions that adapt with the mood of the times. For those who have a penchant for tradition this Met staging was a departure from the convention, but it wouldn't be fair to say that the opera dies with Gelb's and Levine's concept of change. Che faro will play in my head over and over again regardless.
