Tuesday, November 01, 2005
This Halloween weekend was something fairly similar: Going out with Rob in another failed attempt to make Chelsea fun, then ending up in the Village. Saturday night we didn’t even bother with Chelsea and went directly to the Village. (I’m facing the fact that I have become old and stuck in my ways.)
Sunday was something different. I went out with Max and his family for brunch, which ended up being a whole day event that included a walk along the Hudson and some dessert, but finally descended into four martinis in Chelsea (stemming from being relieved that his nephew, sent from hell to punish us for our sins, had made his way back with his grandmother and mother to Philly).
It must seem strange that we have become friends after all the hatred. My rationale is simply that it takes a lot out of me to hate this person and burying the hatchet is the most healthy thing I can do. But, given the lack of trust and our history together, I can thank God that there’s absolutely no possibility of rekindling the old flame.
- - - - -
Friday (with Max and his mother) I went to see the Metropolitan Opera’s production of La Cenerentola (Cinderella). Having gone to the Lyric Opera’s hysterical production starring Florez and Kasarova, one would be hard-pressed to expect anything as good; but you would think by now I would learn not to underestimate the Met.
The tenor cast in the Met’s production, Banks, hit the notes but was in a house that was too big for his smaller voice. The Met would not disappoint, however, and pulled out its trump card: Boradina, the huge-voiced mezzo. She has been doing more and more bel canto roles despite making her career doing mostly dramatic singing. So it was a wonder that this huge voice had the control it did to sing Rossini and, in particular, comedy (I recall an interview with her where she said: “I am not funny”.) And in the last act she nearly blows the house off in the aria where she forgives her sisters and father for her cruelty.
Sunday was something different. I went out with Max and his family for brunch, which ended up being a whole day event that included a walk along the Hudson and some dessert, but finally descended into four martinis in Chelsea (stemming from being relieved that his nephew, sent from hell to punish us for our sins, had made his way back with his grandmother and mother to Philly).
It must seem strange that we have become friends after all the hatred. My rationale is simply that it takes a lot out of me to hate this person and burying the hatchet is the most healthy thing I can do. But, given the lack of trust and our history together, I can thank God that there’s absolutely no possibility of rekindling the old flame.
- - - - -
Friday (with Max and his mother) I went to see the Metropolitan Opera’s production of La Cenerentola (Cinderella). Having gone to the Lyric Opera’s hysterical production starring Florez and Kasarova, one would be hard-pressed to expect anything as good; but you would think by now I would learn not to underestimate the Met.
The tenor cast in the Met’s production, Banks, hit the notes but was in a house that was too big for his smaller voice. The Met would not disappoint, however, and pulled out its trump card: Boradina, the huge-voiced mezzo. She has been doing more and more bel canto roles despite making her career doing mostly dramatic singing. So it was a wonder that this huge voice had the control it did to sing Rossini and, in particular, comedy (I recall an interview with her where she said: “I am not funny”.) And in the last act she nearly blows the house off in the aria where she forgives her sisters and father for her cruelty.
# posted by otas : 11:22 AM
