A star is born

         (Originally posted on April 30, 2007 - 12:59)

         On the stage of the National Opera tonight (April, 29th) was Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro, my favorite opera.
         I have seen two performances of this opera last year at the ONB and they were both terrible. The singers were making very silly mistakes like stepping out of tempo and missing the entrances of the songs. They recovered in the fourth act but then it was way too late. 

         Because of those bad performances I was apprehensive about tonight, even though the singers (with the exception of Vicetiu Taranu and Paul Basacopol) were different. But I had a very good reason to see it tonight for on the role of the Countess was a friend of mine. I haven't had the opportunity to see her singing before because she had just debuted.

         So I went with no big expectation for the production but to see my friend sing. I was anxious because the Countess doesn't sing until the second act. But in this production of the National Opera, she makes a kind of silent cameo appearance in the first act. In the moment that she appeared at the door of the set she struck me with her presence, her elegant and imponent figure.

         The second act starts with Porgi Amor, one of the most beautiful Mozart arias. On this production, in a silly attempt of modernism, the countess is portrayed as a maniac-depressive, Prozac addicted woman. But even this and the fact that she had to sing laying down on a couch detracted from the sheer beauty of her interpretation. Her voice is steady and strong but also soft and poetically lyrical, all in the right places. Her pronunciation is clear and intelligible and has no accents. Her theatrical performance is natural and captivating.

         In the trio "Susanna, or via, sortite" even though she was flanked by two more experienced singers, her voice soared above them, so high that it hit me up there in the balcony, making my chest resonate. Acoustically and emotionally.

         And then there was the two connected pieces E Susanna Non Vien/Dove Sono. In the first part, the anxiousness of the Countess wondering about the success of their plans against the unfaithful and jealous Count is evident in her facial expression and in how well she builds up the tension to an unbearable level... Until she releases it in the second part, so sweet, so warmly shared in a delicate duet with the clarinet.

         Then the astounding fourth act and the climax of the whole opera: "Contessa, perdono". The Countess hears her husband offering her tender words for the first time in years just because he thinks she's someone else. And in a voice of pure forgiveness that wraps the theater in a warm blanket, she sings "Più docile io sono, e dico di sì." conferring on the Count and on everybody else in there, perfect absolution. That was the voice of Mozart on Earth, singing through this young lady. 

          The entire cast and the whole performance was perfect tonight but she 
received the most thunderous applause I've ever seen in the National Opera.

 
         Tonight I went to see a friend sing. But instead I saw something else.
        Tonight I witnessed the birth of a star.
And this star is called Elisabeta Marin.

         Make sure you remember this name because you will hear it many times, associated with the name of great composers, great operas and great conductors in the future. And I do hope this future is near. And I really hope that the direction (I'm trying to avoid the use of any reference related to southern Italian families here) of the National Opera doesn't spoil her career, because I heard that they are reluctant to cast Elisabeta under the excuse that she is "too young".

         Helloooo? What's going on here? What is more important to the arts? Talent or age? I take talent anytime. And she has talent way beyond her years. How can you refuse to cast Elisabeta under such a lame excuse as age and yet you cast untalented uninspired insipid veterans that I refuse to name here but I'll give you a hint: His name starts with "Ga" and ends with "briel Nastase". 

         And there are obvious cases where a young age is an advantage: I am tired of seeing sopranos in their late 40s portraying Madama Butterfly. She's supposed to be in "L'età dei giuochii e dei confetti"!!
Did you get my hint? No? Then let me make it clear: I want Elisabeta Marin singing Madama Butterfly in the next season!! And I am sure I am not the only one!! Get it?

         You claim that she's too young and has no experience. How is she going to get experience if you don't give her a chance?
Didn't you hear the glorious applause that she got tonight? Doesn't that mean anything to you? It means that we the public love her and we want more!

         You hold the future of this young lady in your hands. It's a valuable future. 

        Don't destroy it. 
        Encourage it!

        If your aim is to make the National Opera more popular and frequented then please, give this young lady a chance, let her shine and I promise you that she will not disappoint you. She will make us all proud. The National Opera will have the public that it needs and we, the public will have the star that we love. It's a win/win scenario. No one looses, everybody wins.

       Dear Elisabeta, 




        You are the brightest star in the Romanian musical firmament.
         Thank you for this wonderful evening. You made me proud of being your friend and you made everybody else happy just by being there.
        I can't wait to see you on stage again. And I'll go anywhere you sing. I mean... When you start singing at La Scala and the Metropolitan it will be difficult for me, but I’ll do my best.
     And I am very happy that we've found each other again.

Comet

          (Originally posted on Mar 15, 2007 03:03)

          You came most unexpectedly into my life like a comet. And like a comet you dazzled me with your brilliance and your beauty. You blazed through my skies and after a while you disappeared into the depths of space, most probably in an hyperbolical orbit, which means I'll probably never see you again.

          It was the best of the times for me. For a few months I was happy like I've never been in my life. And for a moment I thought I would be happy like that until my time comes. 

          I remember clearly the first few times we talked. You pissed me off so badly (now I know it wasn't intentional) that I almost blocked you twice. And after three weeks we met. I really thought we were just going to meet, I would give you the CD and that would be it. The next day you would become inexplicably busy and I would not see you again. I'm glad I was totally wrong this time. We went for dinner. And it was funny how we had to search the whole city for the appropriately fancy restaurant. And we dined just the two of us in that terrace. And every time you smiled it made me feel like I was looking at a Van Gogh sunset. You have no idea how much I wished a temporal displacement would collapse right there so that the evening wouldn't end so soon. I woke up early in the morning wishing to hear your voice and your laugh again but I had to refrain myself from calling you so early. I waited until the appropriatish time and sent you an sms thanking you for the wonderful evening. In a few minutes you answered me saying you will "torture" me again soon and in that afternoon you invited me for a walk in the park. After that, until we went our separate ways we met everyday with only two exceptions: the day I went to the movie set to meet Nae Caranfil and the day you took your mom to Brasov. We met everyday and when we weren't together we were messaging and talking on the phone all the time. We had nothing in common and yet we couldn't stay away from each other. We didn't even have much to talk about in the beginning, remember? "Too quiet?" But we didn't need words.

          Bucharest became a nice place to me just because you were here. I would wake up in the morning, open my bedroom window to that construction site that looked like a Mad Max movie set and I still would think "This is a nice day for the race... Because I know you will call me the moment you wake up" And you did and in that day you wrote the most beautiful words anyone ever wrote to me. No. Those were the most beautiful words I've ever read in my life. They rate about 18 MegaShakespeares in my scale. By comparison Shakespeare's own "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day" somnet rates only 6 MegaShakespeares. And you told me you were not the romantic type... Remember that evening in Constanta when I told you I had to change because I thought you probably considered me too romantic and you held my hands in yours and with tears in your eyes you begged me not to change anything because we were just perfect like that, that you needed me to bring romance to your dull business-oriented life?

          I always told you that any place is fine when we're together. And I meant it. Even being hit by thunderstorm and cold rain in that mountaintop was nice. Because I kept you tight in my arms. That was the best vacation I've ever had, even though it was only one week. You changed so many things in my life. Even our long talks (after we got over the "too quiet?" phase) in the car parked at the Circus's parking lot when we didn't have where to go were nice. Or driving down that rollercoaster road from the mountains at the sound of Queen? Every time I hear Made in Heaven I think of you, of how you drove, your hands on the stearing wheel and the way you would flick your eyes between the road and me. I know I used to tease you about the way you drove. But you know I was only kidding and I trusted your driving. Remember that day when that stupid kid on the black BMer came after us after I gave him the finger? Your evasive maneuvers were absolutely fantastic! And yes I remember I promised you to keep my hands in my pockets after that incident. And I kept the promise. Until I flicked my finger at that idiot on the black Merc. Come on, you know I can't stand idiots who believe they own the roads just because they drive a black German car.

          I was so surprised when you met Cathleen for the first time and she liked you at first sight. I couldn't believe that after just a few minutes she was laying on your lap. And even more surprised when she started sensing you coming and she would jump from wherever she was and she would wait for you at the door. Sometimes she still do that. I don't know if it's because she misses you or because she hears steps on the stairway that sounds like yours. My heart skips a beat when she does that.

          How about our nights at the opera? They were so perfect. A Mozart opera, dinner at the Ruby and long talks afterwards.
          And the dinners at my place... You were always afraid of making mistakes when cooking for me even though I told you so many times that I love your cooking and it doesn't matter whether you make mistakes or not. I meant it. Even though we used to go to those posh fancy restaurants, the best food were always those made by you. Because the best spice comes from your heart. And the times when I cooked also. Remember the pasta al'aglio & olio, Chianti and Pavarotti? Or the japanese dinner? It was such a joy to cook for you because of the look of delight on your face.
          Those were the best times of my life. I loved you a lot. You loved me a lot. I was happy. Everybody saw I was happy. Everybody liked me. I liked myself.

          Then like a comet, it was time for you to follow your orbit and me to remain in mine. And the way we went our separate ways was peaceful. We can't even call it "breaking up", can we? You cried when you told me you want us to separate. And my attempts too engrave the image of your face in my retina failed because I also had too many tears in my eyes. But we didn't break up in the true sense of the expression. And I am so glad we remained such good friends afterwards. And as I promised you, I got over it soon enough. And as I promised you, I made new friends and special friends too. And as I promised you I don't keep comparing them to you, even those for whom I felt and feel special affection.

          Yes, of course I remember all these things. But it's not because I haven't got over them. Its just that all my life I always had too many bad memories and too few good ones. And from our relationship I have only good ones. I just want to cling on to them because they are the precious few.
Everybody ask me why am I still in Romania, after all the bad things that this country has thrown at me. I'm still here because even though I don't love this country and this country doesn't love me, this is the only country in which I felt loved.

          Now I am completely thorn apart between a country that I loved but never felt loved in and a country that I hate but where I felt loved. And between the hope that I will be loved again like you did me and the fear that if I stay here I will die alone like I always knew I would. 

          But today the bad things don't matter.
          Today is a special day.
          Happy Birthday.