T-minus two weeks

To celebrate two weeks until the Met's first radio broadcast of the season, here are some videos of pieces from the operas that will be broadcast (including seven that were recorded at the Met). Enjoy!

O mio babbino caro from Gianni Schicchi from Il Trittico. I remember asking Tom about this when I heard it for the first time in '99 and at the time I really wanted to hear it in context. I forgot about that dream until I saw that the Met will be performing it this year.

Song of Olympia (Les oiseaux dans la charmille) from Les Contes d'Hoffmann. I think Natalie looks like Shirley Temple in this production. Tom has a CD of highlights from the opera and before I left for NBCCD I listened to it constantly. Especially the Entr'acte, which I can't wait to hear the MOO play.

The final scene from Elektra with Deborah Voight, who'll be singing it this season. Besides this video (which was recorded at the Met) I've never heard of this opera.

A scene from Hansel und Gretel. This is from the simulcast that the Met did in '07/'08. Wonderful music (BRAVO MOO!!!) mixed with a wonderful mess. I bet this production is a lot of fun since by the end of the performance the lead singers are absolutely covered in food. Note the KitchenAid mixer.

WOW! I can't wait to hear this for the first time.

The Habañera from Carmen. I've heard a few pieces from the opera, but it'll be nice to hear the whole thing.

This is another one that I've never heard of--but I'll take anything the Met throws at me. This one won't be live, though: it'll be an archive performance from 1958.

Ditto for this opera--but bring it on!

...and this one.

Brace yourself for the high C's--BRAVISSIMO! This is Pavarotti's very first performance of this opera at the Met (1972). This is one of the few times when I actually feel sorry for those who don't like opera (not everyone has to like the same thing): this is such a classic, monumental performance. The high C's (middle C's) are difficult for a tenor to reach and are sometimes downgraded to B natural to make it easier to sing.

Let's just say that this year I'll be hearing a lot of operas that I've never heard of before.

This is one of my favourite operas. It's also the Met's most-performed opera. Tom gave me this performance on DVD for Christmas last year (I'd seen it on TV a few months before). Dig out the kleenexes: the Met knows how to make me cry--and enjoy it at the same time.

The summery of this opera sounds ridiculously intriguing, but I'm not exactly a fan of the music.

Now this is one I could get into--it looks so darn cool! (And it's another one that I've never heard before)

Natalie will be be singing this role at the Met this year. Yet another one that I'll hear for the first time.

This is one of those pieces that I've never heard in context. This was recorded at the Met in '89.

Glory to the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra! If you want a reason why I love that orchestra, here's one--now go listen to the demo of the Hunters' Chorus played by the French horns for the other reason (if you decide to listen to that, prepare to have your socks knocked off by eight wonderful musicians). For the last couple of seasons the Met has been performing a "Family Production" of the opera, which is shortened to one act (it was the first simulcast). As for the overture, just the first three notes are played. This season, however, the Met is performing the whole thing--YAAAAY!

I know almost every word of this piece and have heard it live (André Rieu and the JSO). I also love the Overture, but have never heard either one in context.

I'm familiar with this piece, but I've never heard it in context.

This is one that I've never heard of before, but it sounds really cool.

This will be the Met's final broadcast of the season and it's yet another one that I've never heard of before.

Last season I realized how big the world of opera is and how much I have to learn and this year is no different. The Met is a good teacher and I'm enjoying learning from one of the greatest opera companies (and orchestras) in the world.

the Olympic flame in Fredericton

The Olympic flame came to Fredericton on Wednesday night. Several people from MJC went--some as early as 4:30 that afternoon--two and a half hours before the start of the Community Celebration.

I went just after six and as I walked I could hear the festivities (I sang along with Ordinary Day by Great Big Sea as I walked along Queen St.). Even though I'm not the biggest fan of the Olympics (more about that in a bit), I couldn't help but get wrapped up in the excitement. I couldn't believe it: the Olympic torch was coming to Fredericton! For the first time in my life I'd get to see part of the Olympics in person!

Once I got to Queen St. (Officer's Square, where the festivities were, is about half a block away from NBCCD), the crowds started to get really big. The sidewalks were packed, but the biggest crowd was in the Square itself.

After hanging around on the sidewalk and taking photos there, I headed down into the crowd. I hope I don't sound totally weird when I say that I love being in a big crowd like that.

I chatted with one of the torch-bearers who ran that day in Oromocto and CFB Gagetown and got to hold the torch he'd used--it still had the soot from the flame. The torch weighs three and a half pounds, but to me it seemed heavier because of the way the weight is distributed (it's centred in the bulge in the middle of the torch). And yes, it does look like a marijuana joint--there's no getting away from it (though the Vancouver 2010 website says that the design was inspired by "Canada's open land, vast potential and smooth, fluid lines left in the snow and ice from winter sports").

Eventually the torch arrived, carried by Marianne Limpert. I, like everyone else, screamed my lungs out as she lit the cauldron onstage.

When we sang O Canada I didn't bother to hold back the tears. I haven't cried that hard during a national anthem since President Obama won the election (and that time it was The Star-Spangled Banner that made me choke up). I cried so hard that at one point I couldn't sing.

Wendy Nielsen (an opera singer from NB--and yes, she's sung at the Met) sang with the Fredericton Choral Society.

Then another guy whose name I forget sang and played steel guitar.

At one point towards the end the emcee had the crowd scream as loud as we could. He then told us that we were now a part of Olympic history.

They then put the flame in a lantern and extinguished the flame in the cauldron.

And just like that, the community celebration was over. I chatted with another torch-bearer, who told a small crowd how the torch works. I also stopped at the RBC booth and had my photo taken with a torch (that hadn't been used in the relay :-( ). They gave me a card with an ID number that I can enter online and download my photo. When I checked, it hadn't been posted so I entered my email address and at some point I'll get a notice saying that the photo is available. After that I headed back to MJC.

Today the flame left Fredericton. The route went past MJC and NBCCD, but I didn't hear anything at either place. I think if someone had noticed it they would've told others.

Earlier I said that I'm not a big fan of the Olympics, so I'll expand on that: the Olympics are a great idea and the ideals that they promote are worth pursuing, but the Games often fall far short of actually providing an example of those ideals. The Games are meant to bring the world together through sport, but they've been boycotted several times over the years by various countries (including Canada in the 1980 Summer Games); the Beijing Games were heavily protested and there were several things that the press covered quite heavily (the "ugly" girl who can sing really well vs. the "pretty" girl who lip-synched, among other things); Hitler used the Berlin Games to show off Germany's power; far too many doping scandals to count over the years, etc., etc. All of which have added up to make me lose my faith in the Olympics.

Anyone who knows me knows that I don't like ending on a bad note: two weeks, one day until the Metropolitan Opera's first radio broadcast of the season (Il Trittico by Puccini) and one week, two days until the Passamaquoddy Bay Symphony Orchestra's next concert in St. Andrews. You can tell where my priorities lie! This will be my third PBSO concert in seven months--whew!

a long-overdue update

I can't believe how long it's been since I sat down and wrote an entry--almost two weeks! YEESH! Well, let's just say that life has definitely kept me on my toes for the last little bit. This past week flew by so fast that I haven't quite figured out where the heck it went: one second I'm logging into one of the school computers at the beginning of Communication and Student Success (my first class of the week), and the next I'm packing up after Fashion Design (my last class).

But now I'm going to back up and start with the week before. I think the most major thing about that week is that I hardly did any homework, which meant that I had to spend from Friday afternoon to Monday night working. Needless to say, I was worn out by the end. After I got home from my history lecture on Tuesday evening I crashed and except for washing my dishes, I didn't do anything productive until Wednesday morning.

On the eleventh I went to my first Remembrance Day ceremony, which was just up the street from where I live. I've watched the national one in Ottawa on TV before, but as with just about anything, it was something else when I was right there in the audience. As a pacifist, November eleventh is always a painful day, as I can't stop thinking about how many lives have been lost to war since it was invented. However, being in the crowd at the cenotaph somehow made it more real and I was so overwhelmed with sadness that I cried several times.

The day after Remembrance Day, there was a hockey game in front of the school: photography studio vs. graphic design studio (which has now won at least two years in a row). I totally forgot about the game until I arrived at about twelve-thirty--about half-way through. I got to play for the photography studio for a bit (I was cheering for them anyway, since that's what I hope to major in next year).

On the homework front, this past week was better. I don't have it all in the bag (which is very funny, since we made garment bags in class yesterday--though I'll have to finish mine next week), but it's much more manageable. And this weekend I've imposed a strict no-schoolwork-after-five-PM rule (unless I need to finish a thought in an essay or I'm really close to finishing a project).

This past week I asked Mom if I could come home about a week later then originally planned because the PBSO (remember them?) will be performing in St. Andrews on December sixth. Gene will be performing, too.

an afternoon at the opera

I am ridiculously tired this morning since I was up past one last night celebrating the simulcast and music in general. But I still want to write this (though parts of it are lifted directly from an email that I wrote to Lynn last night, since there are some things that I can't imagine saying any other way).

Yesterday was one of the busiest Saturdays that I've had in a while. I woke up at about eight and until I left for the opera I was a blur: getting breakfast, packing like crazy (I went home after the performance), ironing my shirt and pants (on the way home I asked Mom to get me an iron for Christmas, since the one at MJC is crap), getting lunch, getting dressed, putting on makeup, and then flying out the door.

All morning I was worried (there I go again) that I wouldn't have enough time to get everything done and I was constantly rushing to cross the various tasks off my list.

I skidded out the door at about twenty to one and walked as fast as I could to the Kings Place Mall (which is the hub for all the buses). I met another NBCCD student whom I'd seen around school (it's a small enough place that you eventually get to the point where you recognize a lot of faces) and we chatted for several minutes while I waited for my bus (which wasn't due for another TEN MINUTES).

A few minutes later I looked up from studying the bus schedule, and there it was: 16 Prospect. So once again I rushed to get to the bus (which was only a few metres away). Once there, I paid the fare ($2), chose a seat, sat down, and waited some more.

The bus stop is at the opposite side of the mall (where the theatre is) from the entrance that I usually use, so I spent several minutes walking around outside.

"After a while I gave up, and just chose a random entrance, found a map of the mall, located the theatre, found the theatre, gave them my booking reference number, asked which theatre the simulcast was in (theatre one), went in, had a moment where I said to myself, "I'm fulfilling a promise!," had another moment of amazement at how many people were there (it was almost sold out), found a pretty darn good seat, sat down, and waited (again)."

I chose a seat that was quite high up (it was stadium seating, which meant that your seat is high enough that the head of the person sitting in front of you won't obscure your vision. The seat backs were much higher then I'm familiar with--also very nice.). The screen was one of the biggest I've ever seen--I'm guessing that it was about two stories high--and it was very wide.

When I arrived, you could hear the orchestra (ONE OF MY FAVOURITES!) tuning and going over the hard parts one last time (which is a cacophony that I absolutely love--to me it adds a feeling of suspense and expectation). But you couldn't see them: instead there was info about the Met's HD Live series, supporting the Met, stuff about the stars of the opera, etc. There was also a countdown (first in minutes, then in seconds) on the right side of the screen.

When they started showing images of the inside of the opera house I thought that it was just photos until I looked more carefully and realized that--wait a sec!--the people were moving! We were in New York!

The performance wasn't a perfect one: the sound kept cutting in and out. It was a problem that was Canada-wide apparently and during the first intermission a staff member came in and told us that we weren't the only ones with the problem, and that they were working with New York to get the problem fixed. I'd come prepared, though: on the Met's website they have a series of FAQs about the simulcasts and one of them is "Broadcasting a live theatrical performance to movie theatres must present some technical challenges. Do you experience any?" According to the Met, most of the problems are local: one theatre might be having issues, but another theatre a couple of blocks away could be having a perfect transmission--which is why I was really surprised when the guy said that our glitches were happening not just in Freddy, but also in Halifax, Vancouver, St. John's, Ottawa--you name it, they were experiencing the same thing.

He also offered a free ticket to anything at the theatre: a movie, the encore of Turandot--anything. I chose not to get a ticket because even with the glitches, I thoroughly enjoyed the performance. At times I was so absorbed in it that "I felt as though it was just me and the Met."

Also during the first intermission I went and got a snack, since I would be in the theatre a little past supper-time and I knew I'd be hungry. Since the Pretzel Maker stand was only a few metres from the theatre, I decided to go there and get one of their cinnamon pretzels (soo good!) to tide me over.

Of course, one of the high points was Nessun dorma (at the beginning of the third act), which is one of the most famous arias ever written. As soon as I heard the opening notes, I started sobbing: this was it! It was live! At the Met! With one of my favourite orchestras in the pit! (There were no glitches during the aria: they happened less often in the second act, and even less than that in the third act.)

"[...] everything came together to create this one, perfect moment. By the end, I was almost bent double, I was crying so hard. Little did I know how powerful the end would be (both musically and emotionally).

"I have said before that I'm in love with the Met. Well, those times are looking more and more like infatuation: during the finale my love for the Met hit the roof and kept on going, it was so strong and powerful, and I was completely consumed by it. So consumed, in fact, that when combined with the music it was enough to make me start sobbing--again. I've never felt that much love towards the Met before."

When I came out of the theatre I immediately whipped out my cell and dialled Mom's number--but just after I hit the 'send' button I looked up--and there she was. I immediately started squealing like mad and gushing about the opera as we walked out to the car to go get my stuff at MJC and then drive home.

That evening I stayed up dancing like crazy (and being reduced to tears yet again--this time by the Bangor Symphony's violin section, though I did listen to Tom's recording of Nessun dorma, which is the same version as the video that I included in my last entry) to blow off some of the energy and emotion of the day. I also wrote the email that I sent to Lynn.

And then I crashed into bed, thoroughly worn out and feeling like the happiest woman this side of the Metropolitan Opera House.

whew!

This week passed in such a blur that my memories of it are a bit hazy. It was one of those that started out badly but then got better as it went along.

Last weekend was Halloween and MJC had their annual haunted house, which was a lot of fun. Since I live there I got to see the behind-the-scenes stuff. Thankfully, it didn't spoil any of the fun. This was my first haunted house.

It wasn't all that scary. Okay, when the lights went out in a couple of the rooms I screamed, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. I know I'll be back next year.

They did extremely well: there were a lot of cans donated to the food bank (including two from me). Also: when I joined the line in front of the door of RC, it was lined up to the sidewalk. By the time I got into the building the line stretched to the corner of the block. I heard later that some people waited for two hours to get in.

The next night was the Pumpkin Sacrifice, which a bunch of us went to. I'd planned on going to the Coffee Shop Affair concert afterwards but by that time it was just too late.

As a result of all this excitement I hardly did any schoolwork all weekend, which meant that by Tuesday I was close to panicking. On Monday afternoon I did go to school and work on an essay (or try to) for three hours, until my eyes felt like "at" symbols.

Prior to midterms I had a meeting with Adam and he told me that I'm a worrier. Ever since then I've been having moments where I've said to myself, "ya know what? He's right!" This week was one of those, as I kept going over all I had to do in my head, trying to figure out some way to get it all done.

Wednesday night and Thursday morning were the worst of the bunch. I had two assignments to do--one from last week (which just had to be matted--I stayed late and did that on Wednesday evening), one due Thursday afternoon (for which I had yet to buy materials).

I went to school mid-morning on Thursday and spent it chasing supplies: the school store didn't have what I needed, nor did Endeavours, but they suggested substitutes for some of the materials.

By the time I finally settled down to work on the project, it was about eleven. I ended up working until about twelve-thirty and then grabbed a sandwich and muffin at Read's.

John said that the project from last week was my best so far--I just glowed (by the way, I also finally got a decent grade in Creative Process--YAAAAAYY!!!!).

This morning I had fashion design and we started one of our projects (a drawstring bag). There are so many gizmos! Some of which I can't remember the name. Let's just say that I'll never look at clothes in quite the same way again (same goes for pottery).

Tomorrow is the Met's simulcast of Turandot and I'm unbelievably excited--I'm almost twelve hours away from fulfilling my promise to Lynn (back in April she made me promise to go to a simulcast) and a goal of my own (those two happen to be the same thing).

So since I want to get a good night's sleep before the big day, I'll say buona notte (good night), and leave you with one of the most famous arias ever written: Nessun dorma from (what else?) Turandot, performed by Pavarotti. I'm so packing the kleenexes tomorrow! The Met has made me cry before, and I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they do it again tomorrow. BRING IT ON!