The Opera - Part I - "Peter Grimes"

Finally, John D and NancyP, here is the first episode.

For a long time I have wanted to hear an opera at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York. I've tried several times to get a ticket, but I have been unsuccessful in matching an opera ticket for a performance that I wanted to hear with the time that I was to be in the city, because my visits are usually short. Then, too, most times Grandpère was with me, and he doesn't like opera.

Since I am 73 years old, going to an opera at the Met was on my list of things I want to do before I die. A brochure arrived from Smithsonian Tours offering four operas in four nights with lectures from an opera expert before each opera, Renée Fleming as Desdemona in "Otello", and a backstage tour of the Met. I jumped in. I have longed to hear Fleming in a live performance after hearing her gorgeous voice only on recordings. I could not resist. It was expensive, but I gave myself a treat.

Our first opera was Britten's "Peter Grimes", which I considered would be my least favorite of the four. However, I found it to be much more compelling than I expected. The tenor, Anthony Dean Griffey, who sang the part of Peter Grimes was excellent and strong both in voice and acting. He's a powerfully built man and totally believable in the part of the ostracized fisherman in the small, claustrophobic English fishing village. The other singers were also quite good, especially Patricia Racette as Ellen Orford, who wants to save Peter, and Felicity Palmer as Mrs. Sedley, the gossipy widow who eggs the others on to turn against Peter.

The opera reminded me of Arthur Miller's "The Crucible", with the small community, which includes a good many small-minded folks, inclined to the herd instinct, with the resulting recipe for tragedy. Not that I didn't know the story, but the portentousness from the first moment was palpable in the opera, in a manner which reminded me of the play.

The opera includes the "Four Seas Interludes" orchestral pieces, which divide the acts and serve to set the scene for the next act, and are often performed in concert on their own. The first of the interludes I found especially beautiful.

From the first moments, I was caught up in the story and the music, and I enjoyed it far more than I expected to. The singing and the acting in "Peter Grimes" were both excellent. I appreciate an opera in which the acting is treated with the same importance as the singing, since opera is, after all, a dramatic presentation.

Apparently, quite a few did not like the set, which consisted of large moving rectangles, covered with material to resemble the rough boards of a fisherman's shack, nearly as high as the very tall opening of the Met stage, with doors at different levels, in which the characters appeared to perform from time to time. The doors swung open and closed spookily on their own and, to me, worked to good effect to help set the mood. Most of those who did not like the set had seen other performances of the opera, with the set consisting of a more realistic representation of a fishing village. All in all, a good evening.

Photo from the New York Times.

Conductor - Donald Runnicles
Hobson - Dean Peterson
Swallow - John Del Carlo
Peter Grimes - Anthony Dean Griffey
Mrs. Sedley - Felicity Palmer
Ellen Orford - Patricia Racette
Auntie - Jill Grove
Bob Boles - Greg Fedderly
Captain Balstrode - Anthont Michaels-Moore
Rev. Horace Adams - Bernard Fitch
Two nieces - Leah Partridge, Erin Morley
Ned Keene - Teddy Tahu Rhodes

Eugene Robinson Says It For Me

From the Washington Post:

...But what was she thinking?

Why did Silda Wall Spitzer literally stand by her man, not once but twice? What compelled or inspired her to accompany Spitzer on Monday as he responded to the breaking story with a terse apology, and then again on Wednesday, when he announced his resignation?

CNN's resident curmudgeon, Jack Cafferty, put the question best: "The other thing I don't understand about this story is how these guys always get their wives to go stand on the podium with them when they cop to this stuff. I remember during the Monica Lewinsky thing, some member of Congress -- I don't remember who it was -- said, you know, if that was my wife, she'd be standing over my bleeding body in the kitchen saying, 'How do you reload this thing?'"

Exactly. I have spoken in the comments at various blogs about the wives who literally stand up in the spotlight at the podium with their wayward husbands, apparently giving their full support to their waywardness just so the men express proper remorse. Whatever comes afterwards in the marriages is a whole different question to be worked out by the couple in private, but I can tell you that I would not be in the lights beside my man sharing the public shame with him. You did it; you go face them. I'm shamed enough by your actions, but I will not share that public moment of shame with you.

Robinson lists the names of other wives who have shared the shameful moment with their husbands:

Wendy Vitter, wife of Sen. David Vitter of Louisiana
Carlita Kilpatrick, wife of Kwame Kilpatrick, mayor of Detroit
Suzanne Craig, wife of Sen. Larry Craig of Ohio
Dina McGreevy, wife of Gov. James McGreevy of New Jersey

Robinson ends his column with these words:

No one deserves the kind of public humiliation that Silda Wall Spitzer had to endure. The governor says he wants to regain his family's trust and respect. He should have begun that process by facing the cameras alone.

My emphasis.

Is There No End To The Venality?

From the Washington Post:

The Environmental Protection Agency weakened one part of its new limits on smog-forming ozone after an unusual last-minute intervention by President Bush, according to documents released by the EPA.
This Story

EPA officials initially tried to set a lower seasonal limit on ozone to protect wildlife, parks and farmland, as required under the law. While their proposal was less restrictive than what the EPA's scientific advisers had proposed, Bush overruled EPA officials and on Tuesday ordered the agency to increase the limit, according to the documents.

"It is unprecedented and an unlawful act of political interference for the president personally to override a decision that the Clean Air Act leaves exclusively to EPA's expert scientific judgment," said John Walke, clean-air director for the Natural Resources Defense Council.

Bush is not only an expert in diplomacy, military strategy, and the economy, expert enough to overrule his advisers, but he knows more than the scientists about environmental science. Amazing!

For Jane R - Who Wants A Joke

From Doug again. This one is a bit naughty:

Into a Belfast pub comes Paddy Murphy, looking like he'd just been run over by a train. His arm is in a sling, his nose is broken, his face is cut, and bruised, and he's walking with a limp.

"What happened to you?" asks Sean, the bartender.

"Jamie O'Conner and me had a fight," says Paddy.

"That little O'Conner," says Sean, "He couldn't do that to you, he must have had something in his hand."

"That he did," says Paddy, "a shovel is what he had, and a terrible lickin' he gave me with it."

"Well," says Sean, "you should have defended yourself. Didn't you have something in your hand?"

That I did," said Paddy, "Mrs. O'Conner's breast, and a thing of beauty it was; but useless in a fight."

Dining With Friends - Part Two

After attending services at St. Thomas Church in New York City, I flagged a cab to head downtown to meet with Terry aka Queer For Christ, Gabe, and their friend Lynn at Maroons, for a cool jazz brunch. Terry has a job, works as an actor on occasion, is writing a play, and has a blog. I told him that I definitely wanted an invitation to the opening night, once his play is produced. Gabe aka U.C. or Ultimate Concern, is a seminarian at General Theological Seminary. He has a blog, too, and he writes beautifully, but not often enough.

For our gathering in New York last October, Gabe had kindly arranged a room for us to meet in at the seminary, after which we attended Evensong as a group. On the Sunday following, several of us met at St. James in Fordham, Tobias' church, and Terry, Gabe, Klady, and I went to lunch afterwards and had a lovely time. When I knew I would be in New York, I emailed Terry, and we made our plans to meet.

Gabe is a smart, sweet, gentle man, and I believe that he will make a fine priest. Judging from the writing at his blog, I'm certain that he will be a wonderful preacher, too. Terry is gracious (he's from the South) and kind, full of fun and quite the wit. He also has a law degree, so if all those other efforts don't work out, he can always fall back on that - maybe. The way Terry tells it, it would be a last resort.

At Maroons, Gabe recommended that we order a dish of waffles and fried chicken, which we did, and it was absolutely delicious. I believe the waffles were covered with orange butter, but I could be wrong about that. The dish may sound like a strange mix, but it was quite tasty. In the background, or the foreground, sometimes nearly drowning us out, we heard real jazz - not some of the second-rate noise that is, on occasion, called jazz. Gabe and Lynn had to leave early to get Lynn on a plane, but Terry and I lingered and talked for a while and had a lovely tête-à-tête.

When we left the restaurant - it's the kind of place that allows lingering after the meal - Terry was quite solicitous about assuring that I got the right subway back to the hotel. In fact, he went down into the station and sliced his own subway card to get me through the turn-style, since I had not purchased a pass. He had to slice it over and over through the slot to get it to work. I hope that I didn't put gris-gris on it. It was great to see Gabe and Terry and meet their friend Lynn, who is on her way to becoming a doctor. Oh, and they treated me to brunch, too.

Later that afternoon, I went to the Museum of Modern Art, particularly to see the Lucian Freud exhibit, which included etchings and paintings, often of the same subjects. Freud, who is the grandson of Sigmund, does not idealize his subjects, but portrays them just as they are, warts and all, without prettifying them. Women in the area who are not satisfied with their own bodies should hasten over there. Some of Freud's women are downright obese, and I guarantee that you will come away feeling absolutely svelte.

The highlight on Monday was lunch with PJ and Johnieb. They arrived right on time, despite PJ's getting them lost and headed in the wrong direction after getting off the subway. That happens to me often, too, since I have absolutely no sense of direction. I'm always pleased to meet fellow sufferers of the same malady. It makes me feel not quite so stupid.

Since PJ had a recommendation to The Eatery, the same restaurant where I had eaten with David, aka Reverend Boy, and which I had enjoyed, we decided to walk over there. We had a very good meal. PJ and I had meal-sized salads, and Johnie had a very large dish of I can't remember what, except that it was a lot of food. Then he ordered dessert! It was a scrumptious mixture of chocolate and cheesecake, I believe, and he did share with us, as he was pretty much forced to do, since the waitress had pointedly brought three spoons.

At the meeting in October, I hardly had a chance to talk to PJ. In fact, for a good portion of the time, I didn't know who she was, and then we sat at different tables for dinner, so we didn't have a chance to talk much. PJ won't like my saying this, but she's a beautiful woman, and her hair is absolutely gorgeous.

Johnie and I sat next to each other in October, and we had a chance to talk, so I knew him a bit better before our lunch. We chatted like old friends throughout the meal and then returned to the lounge in my hotel to continue the conversation. Once the bar opened, the barmaid asked what she could bring us, but we didn't really want anything, so we had to move along if we were not going to spend money. It was time for them to get to their train and time for me to move to my other hotel for the opera program. What a pleasure to meet Johnie again and to spend more time with PJ. They are two great people, and I am proud to call them friends.

Again, it was amazing how we dove right into conversation as though we had known each other for a long time. We had a few gaps to fill in about our personal lives, but other than that, I felt as though I was with old friends. Communities that form online and then turn into friendships are fairly new phenomena, and it will be interesting to see where they go.

Anticipating St. Paddy's Day - From Doug

Six retired Irishmen were playing poker in O'Leary's apartment when Paddy Murphy loses $500 on a single hand, clutches his chest, and drops dead at the table. Showing respect for their fallen brother, the other five continue playing standing up.

Michael O'Conner looks around and asks, "Well, me boys, someone got's to tell Paddy's wife. Who will it be?" They draw straws. Paul Gallagher picks the short one. They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, don't make a bad situation any worse.

"Discreet??? I'm the most discreet Irishmen you'll ever meet. Discretion is me middle name. Leave it to me."

Gallagher goes over to Murphy's house and knocks on the door. Mrs. Murphy answers, and asks what he wants. Gallagher declares, "Your husband just lost $500, and is afraid to come home."

"Tell him to drop dead!", says Murphy's wife.

"I'll go tell him." says Gallagher.

Please Pray

Blogger susankay said...

Mimi (or GM -- solves the diacritical marking problem) -- may I ask your community for prayers for my friend Jon and his wife Janice. Jon just got put back in the hospital one week after returning home from a three month stay for wound care, skin grafts etc for bed sores. He is a many decade paraplegic and the worry is that his body may just be shutting down. They are both scared by this relapse when they were so joyful a week ago.

SusanKay, prayers ascend for Jon and Janice - and for you, too.

Anglican Periodic Table - Moi!

Clumber, that wise old dog at Barkings of an Old Dog, has honored me by including me as an element in the Anglican Periodic Table. Here's a quote from the description of my element:

Mimium is a chemical element that has the symbol Gm and atomic number 39. A silvery metallic transition metal, Mimium is common in rare-earth minerals and two of its compounds are used to make the red color phosphors in cathode ray tube displays, such as those used for computers.

I did not know that lay persons were eligible to be included in the table, thus I was greatly surprised by this honor. To read the rest click on the blue link above.

Thank you, you old dog.

Feast of St. Gregory The Great

After en:Carlo Saraceni, or his studio, imaginary portrait of en:Pope Gregory I, ca 1610. Cropped. (Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica, Rome)

As usual with the early saints, Padre Mickey has done a masterful work of biography on Pope Gregory.

Readings:

Psalm 57:6-11 or 33:1-5,20-21
1 Chronicles 25:1a,6-8
Mark 10:42-45

I especially like the words from Mark's Gospel:

So Jesus called them and said to them, ‘You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.’

PRAYER

Almighty and merciful God, who raised up Gregory of Rome to be a servant of the servants of God, and inspired him to send missionaries to preach the Gospel to the English people: Preserve in your Church the catholic and apostolic faith they taught, that your people, being fruitful in every good work, may receive the crown of glory that never fades away; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Image from Wiki

Bishop Gene Robinson's Letter

Cartoon by Dave Walker from The Church Times.

Bishop Robinson has been excluded from full participation in the Lambeth Conference of the Anglican Communion. Although he is the duly elected bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of New Hampshire and has received consent from the Episcopal House of Bishops, he was offered only a place at the margins by Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams - a place to which he already has access without anyone's permission. Here's an excerpt from the whole text of Bishop Robinson's letter in response to being uninvited. From Walking With Integrity:

I first want to thank Ed and Bruce and Tom. (ed.note - the bishops who tried to negotiate with Lambeth for Gene and the House of Bishops) They have been so true to what they were asked to do by the Presiding Bishop. They have been in close communication with me. I have felt very supported by them. They have represented me extremely well.

I want to be clear than I am not here to whine. I learned of the result of this negotiation on Friday evening. I have been in considerable pain ever since.

But I want to acknowledge that I am not the first or last person to be in pain at a House of Bishops meeting.

My own pain was sufficient enough that for 36 hours I felt the compelling urge to run, to flee. My inspiration for staying came from my conservative brothers in this house. I have seen John Howe and Ed Salmon and others show up for years when there was a lot of pain for them. I see Bill Love and Mark Lawrence, and I know it is a very difficult thing for them to be here right now. For me, the worst sin is leaving the table. And that is what I was on the verge of doing. But, largely because of you, I stayed. Thank you for that.

I want to tell you why I declined the invitation as it was proposed. I really had high hopes that something might work out. I have been talking with the Anglican Communion Office for almost a year now. I got my first phone call four days before the invitations to Lambeth went out. I thought something would work out.

The offer to be hosted at the Marketplace is a non-offer. That is already available to me. One workshop on one afternoon and being interviewed by the secular press was not anything I was seeking. I wasn't going to Lambeth to have another interview with the secular press. If interviewed at all, I want to talk with a theologian. I want to talk about the love of Christ. I want to talk about the God who saved me and redeemed me and continues to live in my life. I want to talk about the Jesus I know in my life.

But my mind boggles at the misperception that this is just about gay rights. It might be in another context, but in this context it is about God's love of all of God's children. It's a theological discussion, it's not a media show. I have been most disappointed in that my desire was to participate in Bible study and small groups, and that is not being offered. It makes me wonder: if we can't sit around a table and study the Bible together, what kind of communion do we have and what are we trying to save?

I am dismayed and sickhearted that we can't sit around a table, as brothers and sisters in Christ, and study scripture together.

It has been a very difficult 48 hours sitting here and hearing your plans for Lambeth.

In my most difficult moments, it feels as if, instead of leaving the 99 sheep in search of the one, my chief pastor and shepherd, the Archbishop of Canterbury, has cut me out of the herd.

I ask two things of you. Some of you have indicated that if I am not invited, you won't go either. I want to say loud and clear - you must go. You must find your voice. And somehow you have to find my voice and the voices of all the gay and lesbian people in your diocese who, for now, don't have a voice in this setting. I'd much rather be talked to than talked about. But you must go and tell the stories of your people, faithful members of your flock who happen to be lesbian and gay.

For God's sake, don't stay away.

And second, please don't let them separate me from you. Please don't let that happen. It will be difficult, and we will have to be intentional. I know that the last thing you will need at the end of the day is another meeting just so I can catch up with you. But I hope you will be willing to stay in touch with me.

From the day I have walked into this House I have been treated with respect and welcome, even, and perhaps especially, by those of you who voted no on my consent.

I can never thank you enough for that. I will always and every moment treasure your welcome and your hospitality.

Don't let them cut me off from you.

All this is really sad for me and for my diocese. I won't have the experiences you will have, to share with them. But I will be there in the marketplace, willing to talk with anyone who wants to talk, especially with those who disagree with me. If you know me at all, you know that that's true.

Now, my focus has to change. Maybe this is what God has in mind. I had hoped to focus on the community of bishops at Lambeth, making my own contribution to its deliberations. But now, I think I will go to Lambeth thinking about gay and lesbian people around the world who will be watching what happens there. I will go to Lambeth remembering the 100 or so twenty-something's I met in Hong Kong this fall, who meet every Sunday afternoon to worship and sing God's praise in a secret catacomb of safety - because they can't be gay AND Christian in their own churches. I will be taking them to Lambeth with me. They told me that the Episcopal Church was their hope for a different, welcoming church. They told me they were counting on us. Yes, the things we do in the Episcopal Church have ramifications far, far away - and sometimes those ramifications are good.

I hope we can talk about the ways we can stay in touch in Lambeth. I will be praying for you, all the time. I know it will seem very strange, being separated from you. But we can do it if we want to. I have nothing but respect and sympathy for the Archbishop of Canterbury and the difficult place he is in. I was trying to help him, and it just didn't work.

Pray for me. I will need that. A lot.

I intended to quote excerpts from the letter, but I could not choose what to leave out. I have highlighted the parts of the letter that resonated the most with me.

I confess that I don't understand his exclusion at all, not at all. Bishop Robinson's words from his heart speak for me, however, as painful as it is to me that he is excluded, his pain is much greater. The whole of the Anglican Communion will be diminished by his exclusion from a gathering in the name of Jesus, who included all in his invitation to come.

Thanks to Ann for posting the letter