Category Archives: Idiots at the Opera

The Death of Rush Tickets (If I Ruled the Met Part Whatever)

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I was so upset when I heard the Met had eliminated rush tickets as we knew them that I couldn’t even write about it. This is about my fifth attempt . I’ll try not to get sidetracked by other bone-headed decision decisions made by Peter Gelb and the Met board.

First, a brief history of the rush ticket program. Starting in 2006, the Met offered 50 seats a night for $20, Monday thru Thursday to “senior citizens” through an online lottery. Each winner could buy up to two tickets. I’m assuming that they only picked 25 winners, since most people would buy two tickets. These were no additional service charges or fees. I believe these were all in the rear orchestra although the material I think said orchestra or the next level up. There were an additional 150 seats which anyone could wait on line for. Those were also rear orchestra, full view seats for $20. On weekends there were fewer seats available. The cost was $25 a ticket and there was an online lottery for everyone. Continue reading The Death of Rush Tickets (If I Ruled the Met Part Whatever) →

The Metropolitan Opera — Analog Subscriptions for a Digital World

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This year we will be winging it at the Met. Our “to see” list is long. So why didn’t we get a subscription? After all, subscriptions have their advantages. Here are some of the pluses that you get as a Met subscriber:

  • Significant discount on ticket prices.
  • Reserve seats before they are on sale to general public.
  • Opportunity to buy non-subscription tickets before they go on sale to the public for additional operas, including hot new productions unavailable by subscription.
  • Payment plans so you don’t get a big bite out of your credit card all at once.

Sounds great, right? So why didn’t we go for it?

Here’s why:

The current subscription system still has an analog mentality in a digital age. Yes, you can subscribe online, but basically your request goes to human beings who will process it at some later date — weeks or months later. Your actual tickets won’t arrive till long after you’ve forgotten which nights you’re going, what you are seeing,  or which credit card is going to have the charges.  Although the Met has started to update the system a little bit – adding the possibility of exchanges if you can’t make a date in your series, it’s still a clunky system that requires subscribers to deal with customer service if they want to make changes– probably by phone – or to visit the box office.

The main issue is the lack of flexibility. The operas you most want to see may not be locked into the same series. The reviews aren’t out yet and a few of the operas in your chosen series might turn out to be clunkers. You’re booking everything so far in advance, there’s a good chance something is going to come up on one of those nights. And worst of all, while you do get to choose your seating section, you don’t get to choose your actual seats. That’s done for you. Plus, you get the same seats in the same section for your entire series.  This is just unacceptable to most people who’ve come of age in a choose-your-own seats world.

Maybe once upon a time people liked having the same seats every time. They felt a sense of ownership, maybe even started friendships with their neighbors.

But the world isn’t like that anymore. People rent now. They “share.” It’s the difference between buying a car and using Zip Car. If you are going to buy you have to decide the car you want to drive most of the time. If you’re going Zip Car you could go for the Miata when you’re in the mood for something zippy, or maybe a Prius when you’re trying to make a different kind of impression. At the Met, the sound is crystal clear in the cheap seats of Family Circle, but sometimes you might want to be a little closer to the action – like say if there are really spectacular sets, or dancing, or an especially hunky baritone or it’s somebody’s birthday. You can’t mix it up under the current system. You’re committed and defined by your choice. You’re either a Dress Circle Prime swell or a Family Circle Balance bargain-hunter. That’s got to end.

The Met does have some alternatives. After the initial push for subscribers, the Met offers people a “build your own series” option. It enables you to buy tickets before the regular tickets go on sale, but it doesn’t have the advantages of the regular subscriptions. You don’t get a discount. You also still don’t get to choose your own seat or mix seating categories. You don’t even get to buy tickets for the new productions that aren’t on sale to the general public yet.

I don’t work for the Met, nor have I spoken to anyone who does, so I have no idea how successful or large their subscription program is. My guess is a lot of old-timers are content with the way things are and the scalpers aren’t complaining. But if the Met wants to fill more seats with more subscribers – maybe a NEW GENERATION of opera-goers, then they need to innovate. Regular subscribers are good for business. “Special event” opera-goers, are not the frequent fliers they need to fill the house on a regular basis.

Here’s how I’d fix things:

First, keep the “traditional” system for the current subscribers who want it. Send out notices outlining the changes, but if customers want to do what they’ve been doing since Don Draper was the King of MADison Avenue,  allow them a three week period to mail in, call or go online for a “traditional subscription” before the new system comes online. Maybe even outreach via phone to some of the long-term veterans. Allow the “traditionals” to mail-in, go on-line or phone customer service for assistance. (Set up an  “existing subscribers extension” to make them feel special.) Process the subscriptions as they come in and have a one-week additional grace period before the new subscriptions start.

Second add something nice for all subscribers. Swag is nice. Look around at all those feisty Upper West Siders of a certain age with their PBS and QRX tote bags and visors. In some cultures, it’s a sign of respect.

Another way to make the subscribers feel the love, and maybe a prevent a few from getting mad because they hate change, would be to have some kind of educational program and/or subscriber days/activities. I’m not suggesting these be free, but they could be break-even/low-profit and not high-end fundraisers, maybe even at other venues in collaboration with organizations like the 92nd Street Y, Manhattan School of Music, Symphony Space, etc. They don’t even have to be in Manhattan. They could be on CUNY-campuses. I’m thinking of lectures, recitals, previews, interviews, etc. There’d be admission of course, but maybe with special series discounts to Met subscribers and student discounts as well. (Hint: You might try getting people the young people like involved with this. Neil de Grasse Tyson can fill seats with this demographic. No evidence he likes opera, but he’s a reasonable man. He can be converted.)

As for the the new system, it will feature a lot more flexibility in seats, choices of operas, and dates of performances. It will combine the best aspects of “build your own” and traditional subscriptions. It will be mostly be geared toward people able to navigate online, but for those who can’t, help should be available by phone, and even by mail order though that would have to be “let us choose your seats” and might require phoning patrons to make sure they’re getting what they want.

Here are the particulars:

A) Simplified discounts. The Met doesn’t need to offer as big a discount as they do for subscribers. Yeah, I know, I’m arguing for higher prices, but honestly by making the subscriptions so last century they’ll lose subscribers no matter how high the discount. They need to make the whole process more appealing so that more people will want subscriptions. Keep it simple. No admin fees, option to add single-tickets, and something easy to remember like  a 5% discount on ticket prices for a five-opera-series and a 7% discount on a seven-opera-series (with the discount to include single tickets bought on the same order as the subscription).

B) People of a certain age and archeologists will recall those old-timey Chinese restaurant menus. Remember one from column A? The Met has to make sure subscriptions work to ensure that newer or riskier productions will have some subscribers. Here’s a simple way to do that while still giving customers a sense of autonomy. Calculate which operas likely to be the most popular – call them “Blue” (as opposed to “Gold” or “A” or anything that indicates that these are “better” than the others. Next categorize the operas that will be probably do well but not as well as the first category. Let’s call them “Red.” Third take your more experimental or less known productions, and call them “Purple. Subscribers will have to pick a minimum number of operas within each category, but they will still be able to put together their own series. For instance, a seven-opera-series might include a minimum of two Purples, and two Reds, with a maximum of three Blues.

C) Combine aspects of “build your own.” Allow people to choose the performances they’ll attend. There can be limits. Some operas will not be available for subscriptions, just as now some new productions aren’t. Some will have black-out nights, including the galas. But subscribers shouldn’t be limited to building a Saturday night series, or a Tuesday night series, or a Thursday night series. They should be able to mix it up and choose dates that will work for them. Let them attend all five in one month if they want. Let them shop nights to find the best seats.

D) This is revolutionary: Allow people to pick their own damn seats online and to mix sections in their subscription. (Why? If you have to ask, you need to move to an adult community in Boca already, and also I’ve already explained.) Those choosing to subscribe by mail, might still be limited to picking a section, but even over the phone a service rep can find seats using a terminal and obeying a customer’s wishes. Most people will be doing this themselves because most people in 2014 prefer NOT to deal with people for stuff they can do online, and even the very old will likely get a beloved grandchild to help them out.

What will my season look like without a subscription? Pretty fantastic. There are at least a dozen productions I’m planning to attend. I’ll be in the orchestra section, and I’ll be doing it on the cheap. Of course I’ll have to earn those cheap seats by sitting on my butt waiting for weekday rush tickets at the Met. This is still the best-deal in the City, even if people (including professional-line-waiters) start showing up mid-morning. Yes, this isn’t an option for those who don’t have flexible work schedules, but for those who do, you can’t beat $20 orchestra seats. And I can also enter the weekend ticket lotteries — though  it means I might have to cancel existing plans if I win. Then again, my existing plans aren’t usually as exciting as a night at the opera.

UPDATE: 9/22/14 — Just read that the Met has completely revamped it’s rush ticket system. Now they’ll be going to a lottery only that can be entered online which means that it’s completely left to chance, and I may never get tickets to anything — ever. Nice little FU to New Yorkers of moderate means. Oh well, guess I’ll just stay home. No Met for me. Thanks a lot Mr. Gelb.

(Find this useful? Mr. Gelb, you could thank me with comps or possibly a “no show” job. Others could please click on something from My Picks above, preferably one of the books I wrote, but anything will do. Thank you much.)

If I Ruled the Met (Part I) — Idiots at the Opera are Back

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Now that the threat of a strike is over, and the season about to begin, I thought I’d write a series of blog posts, offering Peter Gelb unsolicited advice on how to run the Met because this is the internets where every idiot can express his/her/their opinion.

During the tense negotiations, I kept thinking that the unions were wrong about one thing – the problem wasn’t expensive silk poppies in Prince Igor. Even a stark production like the Willy Decker version of La Traviata is still going to be expensive, and spectacles bring in the audience. I gasped when the palace was revealed in Act II of Zeffirelli’s Turandot, and the Paris street scene in La Boheme is as a vivid in my memory as a visit to the actual City of Lights.

If the Met isn’t making enough to sustain itself – especially with live in HD, then the problem is elsewhere, and so are the solutions. I don’t know if Gelb himself took a pay-cut in the end, but that probably would have been a nice place to start. Granted, this isn’t Europe and the government doesn’t subsidize art here, but cutting back on sets or rehearsal time is NOT a viable solution.

I’ve been to performances that appeared to be sold out, but I’ve also been to plenty with empty seats. There’s a lot the Met could be doing to fill more seats – both with its HD performances and at Lincoln Center.

Don’t get me started on subscriptions. I’ll devote a later post to that. In brief, the current system seems designed to appeal to people who’ve subscribed for the past 40-plus years and still haven’t quite figured out e-mail. I’m also not sure why HD is NOT blacked out in the New York metro area. The only reason to have local HD would be for operas that have become phenomenons, where the shows are selling out and HD is the only way to accommodate all the people that want to see it. Otherwise, people should be encouraged to get to the Met, and there are all kinds of things they could be doing and aren’t doing to build up both the local audience and to convince tourists that a night at the opera is both a must AND affordable.

Not only does opera need to be made more appealing to more people, but people need to know that as a form of entertainment it’s not beyond their reach financially. Advertising must emphasize that the Met is a fantastic venue, and even the cheap-seats offer full stage views and clear beautiful sound. They need to know that while dressing up is certainly a nice thing to do, you can wear what you’d like, and spend far less than you would on tickets to a Broadway show.

One problem is that in recent years, the Met seems to be trying to go low-brow on some productions, to make them more accessible by dumbing them down. This is one of those short-term gain schemes that really won’t help in the long-term. In the 2012-2013 season I was eager to see the Vegas Rigolletto because in theory setting it in a rat-pack casino sounded exciting and fun, but the reality was the Guys and Dolls “translation” didn’t really work. The “curse” being delivered by an Arab sheik was nonsensical and racist. The staging wasn’t very good. What saved the show (if it was saved) was the dynamic performances of superstars Diana Damrau and Piotr Beczala What saved it, was that they didn’t screw up the music.

Even worse than Rigoletto, was the truly horrible “new book” for last season’s Die Fledermaus. Apparently, an English libretto with Broadway pandering worked in the 1950s and was a solid hit, so they thought they’d do it again only more vulgar for a new audience. They threw in the same break-the-fourth-wall-and-make-fun-of-the-poors-in-the-balcony schtick that half the shows on Broadway are doing, added several scenes that do nothing but explain what’s already happened (in case the audience was napping), and made the primary couple Jewish because it allowed them to throw in Yiddishisms which everyone knows are hysterical.

While this kind of stunt, might bring in the curious, it does nothing to increase the opera audience. The people who are going because they’ve heard it isn’t really like an opera, aren’t going to fall in love with opera and they aren’t coming back.

We (the better-half and myself) are still novices. It will be three years this spring since our first venture at the Met. The spouse got us tickets for my birthday. We didn’t go on my actual birthday because that night was Wagner, and uh you know. It was the next evening when they were performing the Willy Decker production of La Traviata, with Natalie Dessay (who actually showed up). We were blown away. Why? Because it was NOT a Broadway musical. Because the sounds we heard were beautiful and it seemed almost impossible that unmiked humans could be making them. Because it was pure emotion. Because big themes – love, death, lust, sacrifice, tragedy. Because it was one of the most fantastic experiences of our lives.

What if our first production had been Die Fledermaus? Would we ever have returned? I doubt it.

I’m not saying the Met shouldn’t be trying “new” things, but Gelb should not be dumbing down opera to reach a wider audience. Why not try to smarten-up musicals the way Glimmerglass does? Why not one classic or new musical suitable for an opera stage each season, with a mixed cast of Broadway belters and opera singers? How about A Light in the Piazza for a start? It’s mostly sung and definitely NOT one of those shows like Chicago or Grease where you could get away with stunt-casting. The singing roles take some serious chops. Some of it is even in Italian!

Here’s a clip:

The “Broadway at the Met” productions themselves wouldn’t need to be the most elaborately staged. The emphasis could be on the music and the musicianship of the cast and orchestra. It would be a great way of getting people who already like musicals to begin with to look at opera. It would bring new people into the house.

The Met could also commit to one American opera every season. Last season they did have a couple of English-language librettos, but I’m talking about operas that tell American stories – even if they aren’t always written by Americans. They don’t have to be new productions (but that would be awesome). Here are five possibilities: Moby Dick, An American Tragedy, A Streetcar Named Desire, The Ballad of Baby Doe, Treemonisha.

There’s lots more they could be doing to create a future generation of opera goers, and none of it involves making opera less opera-like. Next post will continue this. Meantime, feel free to talk amongst yourselves and comment.

(Idiots at the Opera is a continuing series of views and reviews written by a idiot who knows nothing about music, but loves opera. All views expressed are probably wrong.)

Idiots at the Opera – La Traviata, NY Opera Exchange

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We idiots stopped by the Church of the Covenant over on East 42nd street to see the New York Opera Exchange production of La Traviata. What drew us there? The chance to expand our operatic horizons beyond the Met, cheap tickets – general admission $30 (less for students and seniors), the opportunity to participate in this “start-up” company’s mission to create “performance opportunities for emerging artists on the cusp of professional breakthrough.” There’s more to the mission statement but the rest reads like buzzwords for grant applications though that doesn’t make them untrue or not sincerely felt. (I know this as an occasional grant writer.)

Let’s start with the hall. The opera was not actually performed in the main chapel, but in a “fellowship hall.” Acoustics were good. But it did present challenges. The stage is a raised platform but only a few feet up. The orchestra area was cordoned off, and while the sitting musicians didn’t block the view, the conductor smack in the middle did to a greater or lesser extent depending on where you were sitting.

The stage was small, but movement was well-choreagraphed to work with that.

As for the performances, Nadia Petrella sang Violetta the night we saw it. Her coloratura was lovely. Dramatically, I thought she was at her best singing Sempre Libera, and it was here that the character’s conflict with herself over her feelings was clearest. She may not have been helped by the “concept” imposed on this production. More to come on that.

There were a number of cast substitutions that night. While the program lists the different casts and all the covers, there were no notes stuffed in with the updates. Instead, we got a very quick muffled announcement right before it started. I didn’t catch it all except the big one – Germont was sung by Roberto Borgatti. Per the program, he’s done recitals before but this was his operatic debut. Don’t know if he got to sing the role before the performance we saw, but for a debut that was amazing. There were couple of times when he looked like he might he might have been struggling, but except for a tiny cough, he sounded great.

My only real quibble is with the choice of setting for the story. They’ve set it Rome at the end of World War II. Violetta is an upper-class aristocrat now reduced to being a courtesan and trying to keep up appearances. Alfredo, an American GI. After seeing the stunning graphic, I thought it would be a hoot – a kind of neo-realist thing, like a post WWII, Italian film.

When I read the act by act description in the program I had my doubts. The better-half didn’t mind it so much. He pointed out it was “unobtrusive.” Alfredo and Germont wear army uniforms. Other people wear evening clothes. They didn’t muck around much with the translation. But it bugged me. As presented it didn’t make lot of sense. (Granted, this in an opera where a dying girl sings – a lot.)

Violetta Valery was based on a specific real person, who most definitely was not an aristocrat, though she may have seemed like one. She was a wealthy woman alone in the world who earned everything she had – on her back. When Germont comes to ask her to give up he’s son, he’s bowled over by her manners – the fact that she has any. Alfredo loves her despite her “past.” What made the story popular from the beginning was the redemption factor — the idea that this hardened tart was willing to sacrifice all she had for Alfredo – and even for his sister whom she didn’t know, the idea that “love” could somehow save her or that the lack of it would hasten her death. The tragedy of the opera is that they are kept apart, and kept apart because of class — her lack. Even Germont learns a lesson and is left to live with a burden of guilt and regret.

Of course a decadent aristocrat, maybe even one who’d been in bed (literally) with fascists to keep what she had, could also be redeemed by love, but it feels like a much different story, and if you set it in the 1940s, it seems doubtful that Alfredo’s romance with such a person would ruin his sister’s marriage prospects.

I was thinking of the film, A Foreign Affair, in which GI’s in occupied Germany get in over their heads with Germans who may or may not have been Nazis. I was expecting maybe more of that — Italians on the make, naive Americans who don’t know what they’re getting into. Violetta could have been an impoverished Sophia Loren-type trying to work in film while being supported by a Baron who maybe made a shady deal or two to hold onto his fortune during the war. There could have been more solid reasons implied for why the relationship would have been scandalous and ruined Alfredo’s family — maybe a threat to his military career or a future in politics.

I guess what I’m saying is, having come up with the idea, they could have gone a little further with it, and really had fun. This was half-measures. However, it was still La Traviata, and still pretty great. I will be checking out more of New York Opera Exchange next season. (As of this posting, you can RUN to the last performance today at 3:00, which could be sold-out for all I know and there’s no phone number on the website, but if it doesn’t work out, you could always get the 7 from nearby Grand Central and visit the Long Island City Arts Open five minutes away. Or you could stay home and read this novella.)

Idiots at the Opera — La Cenerentola, Who Doesn’t Like a Cinderella Story?

Idiots at the Opera

We caught the penultimate performance of Rossini’s La Cenerotola.. Saturday is the final, and it’ll be live on HD. If you already have your live in HD-ticket you’ll have a great time. If you don’t, and it’s still possible to get one, why not? If you want to catch it at the Met, standing room will be your only option as the house is sold out.

The story is of course a familiar one, Cinderella, but with a few twists. No stepmother. In this case it’s a stepfather and while he’s squandered Angelina’s inheritence, and mistreats her, but he’s so buffoonish that you can’t quite get up a full head of steam to hate him. The stepsisters are equally deluded and awful. There’s no fairy godmother, but the Prince’s tutor fills that role.

Now here’s the thing, there are a gazillion versions of the Cinderella – rags to riches story, and very few of them contain actually “magic” as in supernatural beings like fairy godmothers who get the job done by transforming pumpkins into coaches, etc. My FAVORITE version of the tale is the classic Colombian telenovella, Betty La Fea, in which the stepsisters are evil co-workers, and Betty not only gets her prince, but transforms him from a insensitive man-whore, to a responsible husband and father. Her fairy godmother is a publicist who befriends her, helps her pick out clothes, and gets her to depiliate. But I digress…

If you follow the libretto, in Rossini’s version the Prince’s tutor, Alidoro is not a magical being, but he sometimes acts like one. He shows up in scene one disguised as a beggar to better scope out a bride for the Prince. It’s Angelina/Cinderella who treats him with true Christian piety taking seriously that “least among you” stuff. It’s that which makes her worthy to ascend to the ranks of royalty. Alidoro is the one who takes her to the ball.

In the Met’s version, they’ve added a kind of Touched by an Angel gloss to his character. While it was clearly done to entertain, and is not at odds with the libretto, it’s not explicitly supported by it either. Two days later I’m still not sure how I feel about it – creative, or pandering to our expectations? Given the 1930ish costumes, he could have arrived in a Bentley with a bunch of Coco Channel type assistants to dress her up, but what do I know? I’m an idiot, not a dramaturge. Again, in many modern versions of the fairytale, – Pretty Woman, The Devil Wears Prada – mortals have filled the role quite nicely.

This production got a lot of press because the hot tenor, Juan Diego Florez was ailing and the role was taken by Javier Camarena who got raves. We saw it with Florez, who was excellent and has those matinee idol Prince Charming looks as well. In the second act aria, Si, Ritrovarla Io Giuro, he seemed to hit and hold an impossible number of high notes.Opera, is often a competitive sport, so I couldn’t help wondering whether he was trying to banish the memory of his fill-in’s performance.

In addition to that aria, there’s a hell of patter tune in the second act that features the entire ensemble, and a haunting melody sung by the title character in several scenes. Fabio Luisi ably conducts. There’s also tons of physical comedy and the costumes and set design are all a joy.

American soprano Joyce DiDonato was amazing in the title role both dramatically and vocally.

Allesandro Corbelli, Pietro Spagnoli, and Luca Pisaroni all provided excellent support in the roles of Don Magnifico (the stepfather), Dandini (the Prince’s valet) and Alidoro respectively.

Patricia Risley and Rachelle Durkin played the stepsisters. While there is no vocal heavy lifting in their parts, both gave great performances involving a lot of physical comedy. They and were also featured in these roles in the Met’s last go round of this opera in 2009. They worked incredibly well together. For some reason, they don’t have bios included in the Playbill. Isn’t it punishment enough that neither gets to marry the prince?

We’ve seen about 14 operas at the Met this season, and while I’m not sure if I’d say this was our favorite, it’s certainly up there.

This was probably our last Met outing till October, but not our last opera till fall. Next week we’re off to see the New York Opera Exchange’s production of La Traviata. Tickets are still available.

(What does Marion do when she isn’t going to or writing about opera? She writes fiction. You could read some.)