Das Rheingold

Mention the name Wagner and some of us get anxious. His intense and lengthy works are not for everyone. I don't fall in the category of the learned opera goers like Celine and her late husband John who must have started the love of the operatic genius of Wagner when they were probably in their 8th grade.

One day at the Avery Fisher Hall cafe, a dignified white-haired gentleman sat next to me. His tote bag gave him away as a "Wagnerhead". He was joined later by his wife then they engaged in a discussion about the upcoming Das Rheingold production. As I eavesdropped I felt not only so small but also like a fish-out-of-water gasping for breath. These two are not dummies, they know their Wagner. It was intimidating. I tip my hat off to the loyal Wagner fans who seem unfazed by the composer's massive, challenging and very, very long operas.

The new production of the four-part Ring Cycle launches with Das Rheingold in a joint effort by James Levine and director Robert Lepage. Something I'd rather not miss. Sadly I had to give up my chance to watch it live since the scheduled performance coincided with Patrick's wedding held out-of-town. All attempts to exchange our season tickets for the same opera were futile. Those lunatic Wagnerites are quick to snap up tickets for the Ring as soon as the Met programs are released.

Thanks to the Met Live HD Performance which is broadcast in movie theatres across the world, I had a second chance. It was an encore presentation of a screening that took place earlier this month and not a simulcast.

The prominent feature of this multimillion dollar production was the set made of a long row of 24 planks built out of fiberglass-covered aluminum that can rise and fall powered by hydraulics and can rotate 360 degrees. Even the Rheinmaidens appeared scared as they climb a 45 degree angle close to the ceiling. The planks looked like giant piano keys that twist and turn into different forms - undulating to represent the River Rhine or descending into the Nibelung as a flight of stairs and all sorts of clever tricks. It was humongous and at times drowned the music and the voices of the world's premiere opera singers Bryn Terfel as Wotan, Stephanie Blythe as Fricka, Wotan's wife and Eric Owens as Alberich.

It's a mythical story of gods and dwarves and the magic gold in the River Rhine protected by the Rhinemaidens. The long story rolls on into a series of adventures and misadventure, love, killing and betrayal. But it wasn't the same as seeing it live in many counts.

First off, who eats popcorn at the opera? In the second place, I expected some pretty singing without amplification. Third, Lepage who once again brings cutting-edge technology did not do much to impress me. The sets were bulky and lack depth. In the absence of the live stage I had trouble imagining scale and proportion. I liked his work on the Damnation of Faust.

I wonder what it was like had I attended it live. The state-of-the-art set at times was a distraction from the beautiful music and great voices onstage. I also thought that Eric Owens playing the ugly dwarf stole the show from Terfel as Wotan. Despite all these, Maestro James Levine who could barely walk at curtain call carried the orchestra through an inspiring performance soon after his surgery due to back problems. He is a true star.

I won't say I'll never see another Wagner opera again. I don't have to love him, I just have to enjoy his music. And while it's true that the Met Live HD project paid off as it is now being utilized to foster new interest in the opera, I prefer to attend the performances at the Met.

Boris Godunov

I was put off by its length. At roughly four and a half hours, the opera dragged for most of the first act. Worse than that, the story was hard to follow not having read the synopsis ahead of time, a spoiler one might think, but not in an opera; I need to know what it's all about.

It was even tougher for Celine who was seated next to me and whose subtitle screen had malfunctioned. Sung in Russian and with no Met Titles to translate, it's hard to fake an applause when you had no clue what just went on!

I do not have photos to prove it but Celine dozed off a bit and I don't blame her. There's something about staring at the stage from our Family Circle seats, focusing on the singing while intermittently stealing a view from your neighbor's tiny screen, that interferes with one's ability to stay awake. No, this is not made up. You try it with the dim lights inside the opera house. As we say in New York, "What are ya gonna do?" She moved to the empty seat to my right, after intermission and by this time already terribly annoyed.

There was no impassioned romance or a plump diva belting out high notes. It's a story of power and guilt, Russian history in the making. Boris Godunov is based on Alexander Pushkin's play of the same title which details the rise and fall of a remorseful tsar who ordered the murder of the rightful heir to the throne to clear the way for his own gain.

The set design was spare and quite traditional. The historical idea was reinforced by showing large maps. Most striking was the use of an oversized book which laid open onstage on which the monk Pimen was recording the history of the time, in whose pages sometimes the characters literally wrapped themselves.

There was a wealth of good voices. With the German bass Rene Pape as the lead character, the production came much more to life as the chorus delivered its best. It was a big part for them.

There was no prelude, no memorable arias but enough monologues were barked out. One just has to concentrate on the beauty of Russian music more than the story itself. There is no question in my mind, the stars of this opera are Rene Pape as Boris and the Met Opera Chorus - the tsar and the mob.

Camilla and Patrick

Leaving behind the rumble of construction trucks, the whirring and buzzing of drills and chain saws, for sure a less tense atmosphere here in Maryland would be a welcoming change. Surprise, surprise.

Everyone was on edge at rehearsal including those of us who were not part of the wedding entourage. In his bold, strict voice, the officiating priest laid down the rules. No flowers except for two arrangements on the altar. Not on the aisle. No flash photography. Be quiet. I have a funeral to attend to after this and in between I have to eat supper so everyone pay close attention. It will be up to me to tell you when to kneel or stand, and a litany of others. Holy matrimony!

For the most part we obeyed as if following military orders. Unable to stay at ease, our friend Mila who was one of the sponsors broke the rules. While fidgeting with the strap of her halter top she accidentally (?) raised her hand to which the Gestapo called out loudly,

"Yes? Do you have any questions?"
All of 5 feet and change but packed with energy Mila nervously replied,
"I'm sorry Father, I was just scratching my arm."
You have to know our petite pal here in order to appreciate this story, the script of which will be rehashed way even after the rehearsal dinner.

Now Reverend Monsignor here may have had good reasons to be cranky. Some Filipino weddings such as this one, involve many participants. 8 pairs of sponsors, 8 bridesmaids partnered with same number of groomsmen, a maid of honor, a matron of honor, best man, parents and grandparents of both bride and groom. You name it. Anybody whose surname even comes close to that of the couple and to whom they are afraid to say No to, gets their name on the list of the grand-marchers.

At rehearsal dinner the restaurant was also packed. A ton of friends and relatives were present sort of keeping with Filipino tradition. You don't leave out the aunts and uncles from out-of-town. It's a banquet. As I started to get full yet couldn't stop making a pig of myself, I slyly took off my shapewear (aka girdle) under the table. Aaaahhh! Pain comes with fashion but I won't put up with it.

Camilla the young and beautiful bride wore a simple but gorgeous ivory silk gown. Patrick was a dashing groom. The ceremony went on as rehearsed without a hitch except for the part where Father Francis dropped one of the rings. His excuse, "I was distracted by too many flashes."

The reception was a couple of hours away at least and another hour's drive from our hotel so we decided to get that much needed feet rest before going. Boy I can't remember the last time I wore these heels now they are killing me.

Without a printed map it was hard to tell where we were headed. Should Chong just follow her piloting instincts rather than Lady Jane? The signs point to Prince Frederick in South Maryland, we may be on to something here. We finally got there after traveling some rugged terrain. It is so remote after a while we were cut off from the world, kaput no signals.

If you ever dreamed of a rustic wedding in a beautiful setting like Tuscany or Napa Valley, this is it. The Running Hare Vineyard sits on a picturesque farm with rolling hills and sweeping views of meticulously kept vines. It is magnificent but this made me nervous. The reception building sits atop a small hill!

You may be in for a stale disappointment, no pun intended. First, I know how to appreciate fine wine but can't talk to you about body or tannins; second, I might need an oxygen tank for this hike. I also got accessibility issues here and was getting extremely sweaty just staring at the long stairway leading from the vineyard to the hilltop.

The walk on the gravel wasn't something I had expected. A change of shoes wasn't part of my plan either. Never mind the dirt as my pristine heels started sinking into the grass by the side. My concern here was balance or my complete lack of it!

Alas, difficult but not impossible, I made it. The view from the hill was stunning. The backdrop of the vines on the hills made for a most magnificent setting for Camilla and Patrick's wedding reception. It was awesome.

I love weddings except for the dancing part. My part. I have two left feet, definitely got no rhythm. It's not like I'll be singled out by the cameras and watching guests, but I'll still be making a fool of myself twitching like the Tasered Granny. The band played great music so I didn't mind the blasting speakers right behind me.

Perhaps another memorable part of this event is the joy and excitement of reuniting with old friends we have not seen in ages. It was a happy occasion.

The sun has gone down and it was time to go. Camilla and Patrick caught up with us as we left for the parking lot. It would not have been a pretty sight had I gone tumbling down to the bottom of the hill. I held on to Patrick's arm tightly and slowly climbed down the dimly-lit stairway, poor Camilla had to wait.

There was a big crowd behind them waving goodbye as the newlyweds rode off to their honeymoon. They were a lovely couple on to a new life together. It was a pleasure to be a part of their celebration.

It would have been perfect if Patrick's brother Chris was there.

He is in Afghanistan. His wife Linh's charming presence made up for his absence.