On this cold, foggy, but rainy Toronto Tuesday, in the midst of a winter that won’t make up its mind; the Greater Toronto Area (“The GTA” to us regulars…ha, ha…not really a regular…but I just couldn’t resist) had the opportunity to shed a few pounds over their lunch hour.  That is to say, instead of filling their stomachs, they could fill their souls instead, with a full helping of interesting musical/artistic fare–courtesy of a Free Concert Series in the Richard Bradshaw Amphitheatre of The Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts.  These free concerts and dance events focus themselves on six different areas of the performing arts, with today’s installment (Tuesday January 17, 2012) being that of the ‘Vocal Series’.

As rain droplets pocked the pavement below, and umbrella tops provided their own brand of pre-concert entertainment, an overflow audience perched itself on the third floor bleacher seating of the dramatic, glass-encased lobby amphitheatre, as others lined the fourth floor standing gallery and looked down.  They were treated to a program entitled In Praise of Women, which featured the long overdue, too long ignored, contributions of female composers to the musical firmament, along with texts by different poets of their day.  The program was performed by members of Canadian Opera Company’s “Ensemble”, or Young Artists Program…more on that later (and a pet-peeve about it!).

With appropriate spoken commentary that preceded some of the individual pieces–and some humorous anecdotes about the plight of the female composer as an entity–the assembled vocalists and their accompanists distinguished themselves by any and all critical measure.  While most will not recognize any of the singers by name (yet), and in most cases will not recognize the composers (Alma Mahler notwithstanding), all in attendance left more fulfilled, more entertained, and more educated than before they entered.

Soprano Mireille Asselin set the tone with an ethereal O Virtus Sapientiae by 10th Century composer Hildegard von Bingen, followed by the duets In der stillen Mitternacht, and So soll ich dich verlassen by Fanny (Mendelssohn) Hensel…whose own work was often attributed to her brother Felix!!  Ms. Asselin, Neil Craighead (bass-baritone), Ileana Montalbetti (soprano), and Christopher Enns (tenor), all acquitted themselves admirably in these rather dramatic and plangent pieces.  Mr. Craighead followed up with a vocally solid and polished Chanson triste and Reve d’un soir by Cecile Chaminade; while Mr. Enns delivered an earthy, well sung set of songs by Alma Mahler.

The crowning achievement of the afternoon, however, had to be Soprano Jacqueline Woodley’s 13 minute masterful exposition of Judith Weir’s King Harald’s Saga.  Armed with only a pitch-pipe, Woodley delivered the very angular, part narrated, part declamatory, part fioratura, chain of events about a Norwegian King’s ill-fated invasion of historic Yorkshire, England.  This piece, composed of three ‘acts’ and epilogue, required Woodley to create several characters (including a sort of Greek Chorus), utilize several characteristic voices, and act with only the help of an armchair; again, all without accompaniment.  She dispatched the devilishly difficult coloratura with absolute pinpoint accuracy and fully convincing characterizations throughout.  She riveted the crowd with her eyes and dazzled them with her vocal prowess.  This particular work can be Ms. Woodley’s recital tour de force for quite some time, should she so desire.

Rounding out the program was Ileana Montalbetti’s rendering of Donal Oge (Young Donal), Libby Larsen’s “aria in search of an opera”.  Montalbetti gave this anthem of ‘stinging rebuke’ a full-throated Canadian premiere, and charmed the audience with an experienced preface–having recently worked directly with the composer herself.  Jenna Douglas and Timothy Cheung provided fluid, delicate, and meaningful accompaniment throughout this program.

Finally, before I am accused of “puffing” this concert series, the COC ensemble members, or Canadian Opera Company in general; let me assure you that I do not know ANY of the singers (with the exception of Mr. Craighead, with whom I am currently working); I have barely exchanged words with the accompanists; and I hardly know this company.  But for the sake of full disclosure, I AM currently involved in a production of Tosca which will open on Saturday, January 21 2012.  Today, however, I was just another audience member sitting rather anonymously amongst the regulars who attend these concerts.  I did not identify myself, and was forced to study my program and its translations like any other concert goer.  In that all of the selections were new to me, I had to truly concentrate on the content of the offerings and am now merely reporting the proceedings exactly as I witnessed them.

Now to that little “pet-peeve” I mentioned earlier:
For years now I have been a guest member of audiences in various cities where I have worked world-wide, and have attended numerous concerts/recitals provided by ‘Young Artists’ under the auspices of a home Opera Company.  I, in fact, participated in such a program at the legendary Lyric Opera of Chicago many years ago (LOCAA then, The Ryan Opera Center now).  I have forever heard of them being referred to as “professional training programs”, or “opera schools” by their own administrators and members of the media.  Today’s description was “prestigious professional training program”.  While I am always prepared to accept the adjective of “prestigious” when attached to companies such as The Met, COC, Paris Opera, San Francisco Opera, HGO, and the aforementioned LOC; I do think it is time to drop the mischaracterization-terms of “training program” and “school”.  If today’s talent was any indication, these artists may be YOUNG, but they are hardly in need of ‘training’, as it were.  These young ladies and gentlemen displayed the grace of finished, competent artists of high caliber and true lasting potential.  They have been brought to these major opera companies to be given bona-fide, legitimate, on-stage experience on an international scale.

Therefore (even though I realize that I am getting very picky here), may I respectfully suggest that we weave into the public narrative this descriptive:  Professional Experience Program.

It’s just a thought, of course…

djc

During a recent industry related conversation, one of opera’s most informed insiders intimated to me that Canadian Opera Company (COC) would, “in five years’ time, become the most interesting (opera) house in North America.”  While it is not likely for me to question the authority of this source, I found the words of Ronald Reagan (politics aside) ringing in my head…”Trust, but verify”.  Our late President used this phrase often as he dealt with his Russian counterpart, Mikhail Gorbachev, with regard to the INF Treaty of 1987.  And if it was good enough for him (btw, Lenin used it too!), it was good enough for me to keep in the back of my mind.

It didn’t take too long, however, for me to realize that COC was/is at it’s core a most intriguing organization.  While hardly in its true infancy at over 60 years old, respectively; COC feels young.  They rehearse and administrate from a daring facility that has seen as it’s former lives (late 19th and early 20th century), a Textile Mill, a Gas/Oil concern, and a Maraschino Cherry factory; but converted–via technical and structural build-out–to a full fledged operatic operations center.  Its red brick walls, giant maroon shutters, wooden/bolted ceiling trusses, and large warehouse windows are perfect host companions to this art-form of all art-forms; as we rehearse the more classic Tosca juxtaposed against a far more contemporary Love from Afar (L’amour de loin).

The staff and administration (headed by Alexander Neef–General Director, now only in his late 30′s, and Johannes Debus–Music Director, mid 30′s)  are vibrant, but also unusually experienced on an international scale.  Filling the shoes of the likes of Lotfi Mansouri, Brian Dickie, and Richard Bradshaw cannot be easy (the latter in particular); therefore a company of this stature, with a very new performing arts center, and a loyal audience, for certain, needs forward thinking and energetic personnel.  This characteristic doesn’t begin and end with the front office, however.  My recent costume fitting was as thorough and creative as any I have experienced at the famed Metropolitan Opera, Paris Opera, San Francisco Opera, or Lyric Opera of Chicago (just to name a few respected venues with whom I have had multiple experiences), the stage management seems prepared for all occurences, the company employs a female chorus master (something you do NOT see everyday in this business), while the Artistic Administrator(s) are forever “putting out fires” (something you DO see everyday in this business!!).

The artistic planning is both bold and traditional…a high-wire that every opera company must walk with special care these days.  While taking the economy into account, attempting to broaden their gallery, and still appeal to the press; outreach is a priority, and so is energy and innovation.  What else would one expect from the first opera company to employ the use of supertitles for the benefit of their audience??…and that was almost 30 years ago!!!

“The most interesting (opera) house in North America?”  We shall see; but don’t be surprised…the source I mentioned in the first sentence of this posting has rarely been wrong.  So I will trust for now, and verify later!

djc

For so many of us in the classical vocal arts, one of the prime directives that we give ourselves early on is to strive to become a soloist, or principal artist, in the industry.  It is a long, hard, scary, and extremely lonely road.  Once achieved–if achieved, comes a whole host of new problems attached to that status: long-term viability, “flavor of the month” complex, vocal health concerns, sex-appeal sustainability, repertoire shifts, ego/self esteem issues, and sometimes the need for moment-to-moment validation (in extreme cases).

There are periods, however, when we also look back to “simpler times” when we were still in striving mode, and a wistful smile usually crosses our face.  For those were the times when we were also struggling to “survive”; that is to say…pay for school, get our studies done on time, work two or three jobs, pay our rent, hope that our usually crappy cars didn’t require an expensive repair, etc, etc, etc; and of course, worrying about the next audition or competition!  Along that vein ran the need for many of us to sing in church choirs, usually with the obligatory Thursday night rehearsal, or an extra-early Sunday morning appearance (or both) to earn money, while plying our craft a bit at the same time.  At this time of year–Christmastide–we were often presented with a wide range of holiday music that was certain to touch many souls no matter how trite or sophisticated.  Olde English Christmas Madrigals, simple Christmas Carols, the Christmas portion of The Messiah, or Bach’s Christmas Oratorio, all hold special places in people’s hearts.

At the Old South Church in Boston, where I sang for a few years while studying at Boston University, we were told up-front that in order to accept the job (which paid well as far as church jobs go…and did NOT have a Thursday night rehearsal) we had to be available to sing the late Christmas Eve service–no Ifs, Ands, or Buts; as Fred MacArthur (the music director at that time) didn’t fool around.  The result was nothing that ever fell short of pure Christmas magic.  A stunningly beautiful church, a dignified service, and the most beautifully programmed choral music I think I have ever consistently sung.  When the service ended, everyone walked out with a sense of peace and loving security, including–or perhaps especially–those of us who sang this wonderfully composed/arranged music.  We knew that we contributed mightily to the enjoyment of the service as a collective…not as a star soloist, but ultimately, just as a humble musical participant.  It felt really good; but as the years pass, many of us no longer participate in church choirs, or gathered vocal ensembles…much of it having to do with our need to move around from city to city to earn a living.

But oh, how I miss singing that Christmas music, and the unassuming contribution I made to those ‘magical’ services as an ensemble member.  In a way, there was nothing quite like it!!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays,

djc

THAT IS THE QUESTION!!!!

When I performed in the 1970 Broadway musical Applause, (in 1985) at the Brunswick Music Theater in Brunswick, Maine; I must admit that I never would have imagined that I would ever script a commentary on just such a subject.  But as the lyrics to the title song ring in my head: “Why do we work our asses off? Applause, Applause…”.  I found myself pondering just that…

You see, a funny question was posed to me the other day following the Sunday matinee of Boris Godunov at the Lyric Opera of Chicago.  A member of the audience (a friend) was asking me what was up with all the applause coming from the performers themselves…”aren’t you supposed to be the ones getting the applause??”, he asked.  Good question, I thought; so I began to give it some consideration…

Old school protocol seems to reinforce the mindset that at curtain calls, the performers should gracefully receive the applause that they have earned for the performance they have just given, and refrain from applauding one another.  OK, I can understand and accept that to a certain extent, and also understand its reasoning.  But over the years there HAS been a tendency for performing artists to applaud one another as we take our curtain calls.  This normally happens when the curtain is “out”, and we enter from the wings to take our applause, as opposed to what we term “paged bows”, which is when the curtain falls, then is opened at the center by a Curtain Page–at which point we emerge in two’s, three’s, a group of five, etc;  and of course, the solo bow–all of which are effectively in front of the curtain.  The bows are all pre-arranged, and are indeed usually rehearsed so that they do not look sloppy.

I know for sure that for several years now, we on-stage performers have been so grateful to sing with a live orchestra, that we heartily applaud their efforts.  We therefore applaud for them when the conductor comes out to take his/her bow, and acknowledge the forces in the pit!  Keep in mind, they sit and play non-stop; especially rigorous is their task on those nights where Richard Wagner is on the menu!!  Remember if you will, that the live, true, operatic format (along with symphony, and ballet) still uses a full classical orchestra as accompaniment–or primary focus in the case of symphony, of course.

But back to the singers applauding themselves:  I for one, am always anxious to applaud my colleagues, and often do…even if it is two or three simple claps.  I guess it is because I know what it has taken to get to the point of even being able to take a bow.  Therefore, if I am guilty of breaking old-school protocol, then so be it…I am guilty, as charged.  Note also that when I take a bow, I sometimes applaud the audience!!  It’s my small way of saying “thank-you for coming!!”.

Then there is the special case scenario such as this (give me a second, I will get to it):

In our current production of Boris Godunov at the Lyric Opera of Chicago, we are lucky enough to have one of the great interpreters of the title role (Ferruccio Furlanetto) in our midst.  I have been honored to sing Boris Godunov twice in this year of 2011–once in Dallas with another outstanding artist, Mikhail Kazakov, in the title role (see http://www.davidcangelosi.com/boris-godunov-at-the-dallas-opera/), and now Mr. Furlanetto.  I for one can tell you (if you want to know what goes on “behind the scenes” sometimes) that all of the principal artists crowd into the “wings” to watch and listen to Mr. Furlanetto as he sings Boris’ death scene…the scene that, in this performing version, ends the opera.  It is no exaggeration to say that it is riveting, even as we watch from a side angle!!  Those who are lucky enough to view this scene from the full-on audience perspective, are especially gifted.  His is, in fact, the modern day gold-standard interpretation of the role; following in a not too terribly long line of great bassos who have sung this role to utter distinction.

When Mr. Furlanetto enters the stage to take his solo bow in front of all the chorus, supernumeraries, and other principal artists; the chorus shuffles, or lightly taps their feet, while we others applaud unabashedly…WE DO IT OUT OF RESPECT!!!!

A truly great artist is entitled to this from the audience AND his/her colleagues.  They have earned this kind of reception because of their many years of service to a large body of work, or for a particular role for which they have become synonymous!!!

I hope this helps to address the issue, and I appreciated the question.  It was a good one!!!

djc

Throughout my career, I have counseled the general opera-going public to never confuse the real-life person with their on-stage persona, regardless of the character they are playing.  The swarthy, always in control characters that Clark Gable played on the silver screen, gave way to an insecure, boyish, real-life personage who had to marry up and up in order to advance his career.  “The Duke” John Wayne, with the rugged style and ironed sided nature of all of his dramatis personae, was forever under the thumb of John Ford–the great movie director that is fully credited with making Wayne a star.  In fact, when Ford felt that Wayne was getting too big for his britches, he busted him back to B-movie status; a lesson the latter learned quickly and never forgot…he didn’t cross Ford again, despite Ford berating him daily on the movie set even AFTER Wayne had attained superstar status.

In Richard Strauss’ part serious/part comedic opera Ariadne auf Naxos (performed in two parts: Prologue and “Opera”), he tackles this issue full force; but it is rarely articulated in critical commentary.  The ever serious “composer” in the opera’s prologue presents himself (pants role, sung by Alice Coote) as someone who simply cannot bend or adjust his artistic principles to accommodate anything or anyone, until–in private–his paycheck is suddenly threatened!  Similarly, the flighty, sexy Zerbinetta (Anna Christy) who comes across to her fans as the break-your-heart/unfaithful-lover type, reveals in more private moments that all she really wants in real life is one man who will love only her.  Ultimately, no one is who they seem to be when they are ‘on-stage’, and some directors (Nic Muni comes to mind) have successfully staged this opera in a way that helps to expose its underbelly.  The current production at the Lyric Opera of Chicago, which debuted in the late 90′s, does not delve this deeply.  Instead, we get a very handsome, four-square solid, period presentation that is nicely directed by John Cox based upon Robert Perdziola’s original production (also directed by Cox), and viewed at its final dress rehearsal on Wednesday November 16, 2011.

The farcical Prologue is meant to be fun, with its biting satire of both high-brow, and low-brow entertainers who are to perform at the home of a wealthy Viennese patron.  At the last moment, due to dinner running late and a fireworks display that must start at exactly 9:00 p.m., the two very different performances are ordered to be combined and performed together, at the same time, with the entertainers left to decide on how to blend the content.  Egos and tempers flair, wigs begin to be thrown, insults hurled, and side deals are made.  Two seasoned veterans, Eike Wilm Schulte, and David Holloway ply their craft as the Music Master and Major Domo, while Edward Mout makes the most of his gem arietta as the Dancing Master.  The aforementioned Alice Coote delivers a choice rendering as the Composer.  Strauss teases us throughout the Prologue by giving the Composer very short snatches of glorious melody, pulling up just short of our full listening satisfaction.  He does it time and again, until he finally provides this character with a complete paean on the musical arts that closes the relatively short first half.  Coote provided full-throated, solid vocalism throughout.

“The Opera” portion of the opera (ie. the next Act), allows us full access to singers/characters that were only ‘hinted at’ during the prologue.  Delightful were Nili Riemer, Jamie Barton, and Kiri Deonarine (Naiad, Dryad, and Echo); their voices all splendid individually, but harmonizing together beautifully–with Barton a particular standout.  Matthew Worth (Harlekin), Wilbur Pauley (Truffaldino) and James Kryshak (Scaramuccio) provided slapstick style vaudeville/commedia dell’arte antics, while Rene Barbera lent his effortless tenor to the role of Brighella–Lyric audiences will surely hear more from this Operalia multi-award winner soon.  Anna Christie brought us a bright voiced and vibrant Zerbinetta, and was intelligently measured in her big second half aria.  The role of Bacchus (Brandon Jovanovich) seems to be reversely akin to that of Brunnhilde in Richard Wagner’s Siegfried…he does not appear until late into the opera, he comes to the stage basically fresh, and has only an elongated duet to sing with Ariadne, who has already been singing for some time.  One almost wonders if Strauss has parodied Wagner here–as the musical similarities are so glaring; but that is entirely academic.  Mr. Jovanovich sings the tricky (if somewhat thankless) role with great aplomb.  His voice seemed secure, even in the upper-most reaches of vocal phrases that have brought many a helden-esque tenor to their knees.

Ultimately, however, this opera is entitled Ariadne auf Naxos and–needless to say–a few direct moments have to be spent on the title character, which I have saved for last intentionally:

Singing the role of Ariadne is Amber Wagner, a relative newcomer to this challenging repertoire.  She delivered stout overall singing, peppered with moments of great power, as well as fine, impressive pianissimi.  It is clear that Ms. Wagner will continue to pursue this repertoire and will, no doubt, over the years amalgamate her singing and acting to grow into a first rate performer of this material.  The good news is that she has time to grow, and she surely will.

Finally, it is no secret that I have been a long-time, stalwart principal artist, great friend (and cheerleader) of this world-class opera company.  I offer this “review” simply because I felt I had something to say, and my readers enjoy and respect my candor.  I am fully aware that I critiqued a final dress rehearsal, but so have the finest critics worldwide when scheduling does not permit their attendance at a premiere.  It is, of course, very important to make that fact exceedingly clear as I have done several times.  It is also noteworthy that LOC is undergoing some extreme changes, while attempting to control budget costs during these very difficult economic times.  It is my opinion that we must continue to put the FINEST talent on our stage at all times.  It is a fine line to walk as we ALL attempt to do our part in the arena of expense mitigation.  Therefore, we continue to wish new General Director Anthony Freud and his full team of Administrators the best of luck as we move ahead into the future.

For those so interested, the final San Francisco Opera Radio Broadcast of Siegfried will be Sunday, November 6 at 11:00 p.m. (EST), 10:00 p.m. (CST), and 8:00 p.m. (PST) on KDFC 90.3, San Francisco.  Below is the link that will take you the “Listen Live” page for the live-stream internet broadcast.  Please take a listen as ‘yours truly’ dispatches the role of Mime with as much aplomb as I can muster.  I hope you have the time to enjoy this hard earned effort by myself, and all my wonderful colleagues, of the new Francesca Zambello staging of this Wagnerian epic classic!!!  (Click on the link below!!!!)

http://www.kdfc.com/Listen-Online-/5809385

djc

As I sit today (Saturday October 15) and listen to the 32nd annual Operathon on 98.7 WFMT here in Chicago (in between studying my Russian for our upcoming production of Boris Godunov), I am compelled to outline in writing something that I articulated earlier today in my “on-air” appearance.

Why donate to the Lyric Opera of Chicago??  The answer it pretty simple, but it goes far beyond the operatic art-form:

The Chicago Symphony Orchestra, The Lincoln Park Zoo, The Newberry Library, The Art Institute of Chicago, The Museum of Science and Industry, as well as other such organizations in the greater Chicago area are–by definition–cultural INSTITUTIONS in this great city.  Therefore, by this designation alone, they have “withstood the test of time”.  This is an important distinction to consider when deciding where to invest your extra dollars for the purposes of cultural development and expansion.  With the current economic metric in place, it is important to know that your hard earned (disposable) income is helping to underwrite an organization that will be at your disposal to enjoy today, next week, next year, or a decade from now.

My experience has been that the Lyric Opera of Chicago is disciplined both fiscally, and artistically.  It regularly gives back to the community, and helps make Chicago one of the great cities of the world.  While all the other aforementioned organizations deserve your attention–as they will no doubt vie for your dollars–; today is Lyric Opera of Chicago’s day in the bright, autumnal, fund-raising sun.  I hope you will consider it worthy of your support…

djc

Saturday October 1, 2011 will most certainly be remembered for many things in the annals of Chicago operatic history:  It will have marked only the third time that the Lyric Opera of Chicago has mounted a production of The Tales of Hoffmann in some 35 years; it also marked the beginning of a new era in Lyric Opera history as a new General-Director (Anthony Freud) was passed the proverbial baton.  It further heralded the continuing ascension of an old colleague of mine (Matthew Polenzani) with whom I began my career so long ago; and sparked the start of what might well be a fine future for a new colleague (Emily Fons).  Furthermore, it celebrated the artistry of an operatic “old-shoe” (but Gucci or Prada for sure!!), in one James Morris, as well as continuing to welcome legendary soprano Renee Fleming to the artistic staff, as special consultant.  Yes, there was something for everyone at the opening of Lyric Opera of Chicago’s 57th season–including an appearance by ‘yours truly’ for the 15th consecutive year.  (For the record: The Lyric also greets a new interim Chorus Master, a new Wig & Make-Up Mistress, along with an assortment of new choristers.)

It was originally to have been a new production, but resulted in a thirty-some-odd year old rejiggered import instead.  This was hardly the auspicious beginning that incoming General-Director Anthony Freud may have hoped for, but ultimately this decision was not his to make, given the pace at which productions are chosen in the years preceding their mounting on the stage.  But still, it is no exaggeration whatsoever to proclaim that a new chapter (or should I say a new ‘volume’) is being written at the Lyric Opera of Chicago.

As City construction workers raced like mad to complete the new stretch of road that borders the entire opera complex (one enormous city block) for opening night, it seemed as though the limousines had been lining up for days–readying for the release of the well dressed Chicago elite who wait all year for the opening night festivities that include a 5:00 p.m. swanky cocktail party, an early performance curtain, free flowing non-stop champagne and hors d’oeuvres during intermissions, and–of course–the piece de resistance…the ever anticipated Opera Ball.  Paparazzi, Glitterati, a Red Carpet, Long Gowns, Tuxedos, and a sumptuous classic ballroom at the Chicago Hilton and Towers, replete with the finest food and the most beautiful flowers imaginable, make for the perfect dream-night for the wealthy, the “see-and-must-be-seen-crowd”, and–oh yes, opera fanatics!!  Even the most well connected, social event-weary regulars cannot help but gasp at what is surely the best show in town (The Ball, that is).

It is truly something to behold…except “When Life Interrupts”…

You see, we opera singers are part of the show!  Not just on stage, but at The Ball too!!  We are invited guests.  In fact, we are the real stars of the evening, along with our spouses, dates, soul-mates, or significant others.  We purposefully mingle with, and are seated amongst the biggest donors, board members, top administrators, et al; except “When Life Interrupts”…

But instead of heading to the Opera House with my tuxedo pressed and ready for the post-performance party, and instead of walking into the building with my beautiful girlfriend donned in a glorious gown that she purchased in San Francisco months earlier, and green satin Louboutin shoes that she purchased in Paris; I walked in the backstage door alone–dressed in sweat pants and a sweater–and ambled to my dressing room in a state of exhaustion.  This is what happens “When Life Interrupts”…

At 4:30 a.m. Saturday October 1, my girlfriend awoke with the type of excruciating pain that sends the observer of that pain into abject terror.  In moments, we were off to the hospital…no time to call 911…it’s just a matter of getting to the hospital ASAP…no time to wait for an ambulance, that’s for sure.  The innocent vanity of the masses that would permeate the grand lobby of the Civic Opera House just hours later that same day does not exist in an Emergency Room; there are no wig and make-up rooms, only receiving rooms; no dressing rooms, just treatment cubicles where clothes are unceremoniously stripped off of you; no parade of Opera House Administrators tending to your needs/nerves or bolstering your confidence, just doctors and nurses moving in an endless scramble to deal with a steady flow of the suddenly ill or severely injured.  With too many questions and not enough answers, we endure the Triage process; and then we wait what seems like an eternity before the intravenous pain medication makes its way through a willing vein and into the bloodstream.

Long story short: Kidney Stones scuttled months of expectation and excitement for her, and relegated me to one of my most exhaustive on stage performances in years (as a result of spending 12 hours in the ER waiting for a diagnosis and a room).  She lay in the hospital while I walked the two lonely, unremarkable blocks home amongst a giddy opening night crowd post performance.  No one recognized me (no matter), and the night had turned a silvery cool as the breeze had increased; but at least I was finally home.  There was no Ball, no recognition, no dinner, no dancing, no limousines, no champagne.  All that remained was concern for my girlfriend’s well being, and the unmistakable perspective that is the residue of what is left in the wake of:

“When Life Interrupts”…

P.s. The stone passed after about 72 hours; life went on, and so will the next performance.  As a friend wrote to me: “The Show Must Go On ‘pill’ is tough to swallow sometimes.”  But as Hyman Roth said in The Godfather, Part II: “This is the business we’ve chosen”…

djc

When I was stopped on the streets of Chicago on an unusually chilly early September Tuesday, and was asked to participate in the inaugural segment of something entitled “Bringing America Back” for ABC World News, how could I refuse?!  I was told I would be a featured guest that very evening (Sept. 6); so with camera rolling and microphone at my lips, I seized the opportunity to serve my country in an attempt to help “Bring America Back”!!

I was pointedly asked what our country’s biggest problem currently is, and what we can do to fix it?? 

Being a political junkie who has also read every book possible (a bit of an exaggeration) regarding world economics, international stock exchanges, personal and institutional investing, currency/capital markets, interest rate trends, and the labor force; I felt instantly ready to take to my unexpected bully pulpit and let loose with a dazzling display of rhetoric for all to witness–after all, millions of Americans would be watching, and counting on me to deliver!!  I would, in fact, single-handedly identify the problem(s) and TRY to propose a solution…

Trust me, my friends, I did not disappoint; after all, I was in my wheel-house!! 

I waxed knowledgeably about the National Labor Relations Act; the rise of the greatest middle class the world has ever known; Congressional Reconciliation; Quantitative Easing; our current debt crisis (including the tens of trillions we can probably never repay Medicare and Medicaid).  I spoke with great confidence, however, about how America was historically the best positioned nation on earth to stage this type of comeback.  I warned of the dangers of trying to tax our way out of this quick-sand canyon…keep in mind…no civilization on earth has EVER taxed itself into prosperity (counter to what Ravi Batra suggested in his book The Great Depression of 1990).  I pontificated about our need to GROW our economic base and revive our ever shrinking manufacturing sector (a-la Lee Iacocca in Where Have All the Leaders Gone?).  I expressed with sadness how–at this moment–we here in America just do not produce the kind of goods that the rest of the world is demanding; and even if we did, the cost to produce them is just too high–when one factors in the costs of Federal/State regulations and labor–to make us competitive on the world stage.  I continued on about how we are more of a nation that now provides services–mostly financial services (as predicted in the book Mega-Trends 2000, for example)–via the “trading of paper”, and by creating financial instruments that industry reps themselves do not even understand.  Yes, my friends, I was on a ROLL!!!

The camera man gasped; the interviewer stood stunned (‘who is this man-on-the-street?’ he must have been thinking), but managed to get out one additional question: “Well, how do you propose we implement your growth plan??”  I answered:  “As our President once said in one of his primary debates against Hillary Clinton (on a different issue, admittedly), “Uhhh…, that’s above my pay grade.” !!”

Perhaps that was the answer that sunk me; because after 10 solid minutes of dizzying “tape in the can”, I got an entire 3 seconds on the 6:30 evening news!!  Only 9 words, in fact, that were pulled out of context from the middle of one of my sentences: “…we don’t make things the way we used to…”

That was it; and it hardly shook the nation, believe me!!  Well: My ego may have been bruised, and my broad knowledge/opinions may have been muzzled; but at least my red scarf looked great on camera!!!!

djc

When I first heard the characters Mama Morton and Velma Kelly sing the duet “What Ever Happened to Class” from the Kander/Ebb/Fosse musical Chicago, my derriere became a size or two smaller from laughing so hard.  Even though the characters are from the days of Prohibition, their social commentary about men, women, and the ‘youth of today’ (although bawdily delivered) struck a chord!  The audience roared at how generation after generation, we who have grown and matured, at one point begin to complain about the young men and women (or boys and girls) that follow behind us some 20-30 years later.  Well, I am about to join the old fogeys, because this past weekend I officially became: “Old in San Diego”!!!!

Did you ever wake up one day and realize that you have ‘grown old’??  I must tell you, it is akin to when we awoke one day to realize that our childhood was now past.  We were not children anymore; and that neighborhood game of ‘kick the can’ didn’t hold the same relish that it once had.  The annual showing of The Wizard of Oz on network TV, and the plethora of animated Christmas specials no longer held us in the grips of anticipation for a solid week or two before airing.  No; our childhoods were over…and it was sad.  Now that I am officially an old fogey (story coming up, believe me); I am not sad at all:  I am just MAD!!!

In an effort to enjoy the few weekends of summer that remain, my lady-friend and I decided to go somewhere neither of us had ever been.  I suggested San Diego, and she eagerly agreed.  Plane tickets? Check! What about hotel?  Let’s do some research!! Result:  The Andaz Hotel, San Diego…one of the Hyatt Hotel chain’s newest brand of boutique offerings worldwide, that soon became the site of my reverse “Benjamin Button At High Speed” revelation.  I chose this hotel because it is part of the Hyatt family, with whom I enjoy very high status as a frequent guest…much the same way that I enjoy the highest ‘frequent flyer status’ with United Airlines.  I build up points toward future stays, enjoy room upgrades, late check-outs, early check-ins, and other little niceties that help build brand loyalty.  Well if this past weekend’s experience is any arbiter of the Hyatt corporation’s attempt to hold on to their most loyal customers, they had better get back to the drawing board very quickly!!  However, if it is their intent to build a new customer base that consists of drunk, giggling 20-something females (whose breasts are as big and as fake as their laughs), Hollywood wannabes, L.A. styled losers, Jersey Shore male knock-offs, and unattractive snide Snooki imitators (not that she is any great prize herself); then they are doing a great job!!  You see, this boutique hotel is for the young and tragically hip, or men in their 60′s trying desperately to dress and act in their 40′s, and spoiled foul-mouthed 20-somethings who act as if they are 16 year old girls and boys.  Each person a study in practiced irony.

But before you start to lose heart, rest assured that all the above are duly complemented by under-staffed, under-educated hotel bartenders who only know greetings such as “Hey Bud”, and etiquette responses such as “Thanks Man”.  And we mustn’t forget the absent minded, air-headed cocktail waitresses on the rooftop, and the other uncaring, ‘overwhelmed’ hotel staff who walk around doing nothing (with the exception of the pool cleaning lady), and looking all the more superior for it–and why not, they’re being paid!!

And the crowning touch would have to be the elevator/velvet rope goon squad who pose as security/crowd control officers who don black suits, wear their “I’m a Secret Service Agent” earpiece, and act as if they are doing us all a favor by opening the velvet rope to allow us access to the elevators that take us up to the rooftop night-club, down to the basement night-club, or over to the adjacent lobby night-club.  This is especially irritating to hotel guests, like myself, who are supposed to have the run of the place as VIP’s.  Well, all I was trying to do was get to my room one night…just for the record…but was told I had to be patient!!!

This phony-baloney, restrictive, “you must be a member” attitude, simply alienates we 40-somethings who are neither/nor, but betwixt and between two worlds with nowhere to go, but with some dollars to spend–believe me–you should have seen the hotel bill at check-out time.  Is this what I am spending my hard earned disposable income on??  This time the answer was an unfortunate ‘yes’, but it will also be the last, I can assure you.

But it goes further than that:  All through the very animated Gaslamp District of beautiful San Diego–with it’s stunning historic buildings, trendy restaurants, no-recession style spending, and ample night-club scene (whose music is so heart palpitatingly loud, your body actually vibrates as you walk down the street), all I could see were clones: Every girl dressed in the same arrestingly short, napkin-sized dresses.  All with the same Kim Kardashian hair-style, super-sized eyelashes, and too tall shoes (yes, they were actually falling off/out of them as they walked).  Every man dressed in the same ill fitting denim jeans that slouch so far down the ankle that they look like the Wicked Witch of the East’s legs as they curled under Dorothy’s fallen Kansas home.  All with flat Ked’s-style sneakers on their feet (you know guys, the ones we 40-somethings wore when we were 8 years old!), and ratty t-shirts, or too tight plaid shirts with the shirt tails hanging out–I know, I know: “That’s the style“…I have seen Abercrombie and Fitch ads!!

And this is what these slutty-dressed (as they ‘giggily’ referred to themselves, believe it or not), drunken women go for these days??? (and vice-versa)…a bunch of equally slutty looking, sloppy, under-dressed, drunken, rude men?!?!???!  (And believe me, they were rude!)

Well OK, if that’s how it is–a race to the bottom; I guess I will simply admit that I have indeed now become ‘old’, an old complaining fogey…and it happened in San Diego.  But I simply must ask you my friends:

What ever happened to class????

djc

P.s. I must, for the sake of fairness, sincerely compliment a few of the hotel staff who tried their best to be accommodating–but they were simply too young and inexperienced to know what it meant to provide meaningful service to their guests–or too overwhelmed by the wave of incompetence that permeates the staff of this hotel.  Furthermore, I am far from a prude, but I prefer to dress nicely for my girlfriend–which means pressed pants and shirts, a blazer or suit, and dress shoes when we go out.  It’s a respect thing…