It’s a pandemic, you can cut the recit

It is I, your blogger, shut inside a house, like everyone. I watched the Met’s At-Home Gala this afternoon and have some thoughts.

You can watch the whole thing on the Met’s website until April 24.

Many of the performances were delightful, and I’ll get to that. But first: the Met’s current slogan is “The Voice Must Be Heard.” The “must” is doing a lot of work here; the Met’s recent box office suggests that many do not find it imperative. This gala repeated that motto frequently, along with injunctions to donate to the Met. In a series of videos, we saw the lovely or in a few cases terrifying houses of opera’s A-list (yes, I have the screenshots), along with several coordinated performances by the chorus and orchestra. What went conspicuously unmentioned is that “the opera company’s orchestra, chorus and stagehands will not be paid past March.” All the artists, including the Met’s regular employees in the chorus and orchestra, donated their time for this gala.

And that’s the other problem with “the voice must be heard”: the voice. It presents the voice as a disembodied thing, something which doesn’t reside inside an artist who still has to pay their rent and their student loans. The singers here are the top echelon but being a singer is a very tough job even in the best of circumstances and many, many musicians are facing months and months of unemployment. Some of them heard they were out via Twitter!

Near the end of the gala, Yannick Nézet-Séguin said “music and art cannot be silenced,” which, well, that might be news to the soprano who eventually finds an IT job because she needs to pay the bills and is, in fact, no longer singing. Music doesn’t happen without a person making it. Being a musician might be a calling for amateurs, or those born rich, but for lots of people at the Met and in many other places, it’s also a paycheck.

The Met needs to raise money, obviously. But it leaves a bitter taste when they do so without acknowledging that their performers were doing them a giant favor and that musicians everywhere are facing a bleak future. (Even a token would have helped.) If you have money to donate, please give it to a fund for musicians, not the Met.

Now on the brighter side: the highs and lows of this scrappy gala (I am mostly avoiding discussing the actual singing, because audio was… varied):

Best Evil Lair: René Pape

The German-speaking basses really brought it at this gala. Don’t let his Sarastro aria fool you, René Pape might actually be a Bond villain. There’s the mini-me duck on the piano plus, what’s that behind him? Computer, enhance.

Enhance

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Most… Everything: Günther Groissböck

Fellow bass Günther Groissböck has one of the little Wagner statues from Bayreuth, wearing a mask, of course, as well as multiple posters advertising his own work, a model of the Met on his piano, and he accompanied himself.

Most Varied Talents: Erin Morley and co.

Some singers got live accompanists (side-eye: are you giving Helmut Deutsch coronavirus???), many used a recorded accompaniment, and a few accompanied themselves. I particularly liked Erin Morley’s sprightly “Chacun le sait,” in which she encouraged the audience to sing the chorus parts.

Matthew Polenzani and Étienne Dupuis as well as Groissböck also managed their own pianos.

Most False Advertising: Angela Gheorghiu

She was in the intro and then didn’t show for the actual gala. Which is, granted, very much in character. (Note, the circle on her chest is because my video froze at this moment.)

Most Fans: Yannick Nézet-Séguin

Yes, this is that kind of blog post.

Most Rustic: Piotr Beczala

Nice dacha, Piotr! It reminds me of Act III of the Tcherniakov Tristan. (Photo from Twitter because I didn’t get one.)

Most Elegantly Prepared: Lisette Oropesa

Lisette Oropesa had her pianist on her TV, a better mic than anyone else, and a caftan that I would be happy to wear for the rest of quarantine. Plus, she sang an unusual aria from Robert le Diable.

Most On Brand: Elina Garanca

Best Bookshelves: Elza van den Heever

I Used to Be Ensemble in Zürich, That’s Why I Live in Switzerland, There is No Other Reason: Tie between a lot of people

I’m sure Switzerland is so pleasant no one ever wants to move away.

Most Off Message: Jonas Kaufmann

Those are Nationaltheater seats! (I vaguely remember them selling them off in a renovation a few years ago.) Points for invoking the Bayerische Staatsoper even while performing in another opera company’s gala.

Most Architectural Digest: Renée Fleming

I haven’t looked it up, but I would be surprised if this house wasn’t in Architectural Digest.

Most Appropriate Diva-Wear: Anita Rachvelishvili

She really found the intersection of a bathrobe and a gown. Plus, piano bling!

Most Relatable: Roberto Alagna

Aren’t we all.

Most melancholy quirkiness: Peter Mattei

An accordion adds that Winterreise touch to “Deh vieni alla finestra.” Plus, nice umbrella stand! What else do I have to do on this Saturday afternoon beyond admiring the umbrella stands of distinguished baritones, truly.

Most On Point Music Choice: Anna Netrebko

She didn’t explain it, but this was the text of Anna Netrebko’s Rachmaninov song, “Ne poy, krasavitsa, pri mne” (musicologists, you might know this one from its chapter in Defining Russia Musically):

Alas, your cruel strains
Remind me
Of the steppe and the night,
And the moonlit face of my distant beloved.

(Translation from here.) It’s more direct than most of this gala was, which is maybe why she didn’t explain.

I was going to revive this blog this summer when I made a grand tour of the summer festivals but NOPE that will not be happening! See you some other time!