Nagano: On the Road
Art thou not Kent?
It was a lovely, straight performance under San Francisco’s soon-to-depart music director Donald Runnicles, sweetly sung by William Burden and Laura Aikin as the lovebirds, darkly done by James Morris as Nick Shadow, and carried to a hilarious turn by Denyce Graves as the bearded Baba the Turk. Carl Fillion’s stage set could not erase memories of David Hockney’s magical sets and costumes the last time around in San Francisco; nothing could. At least there was no horse.
Back home, I rack my brain and my far-flung gray cells to locate a memory of music uglier in overall sound, more exasperating in its inability to resolve its stated premise or reach its proposed point, more singularly inept in the mere housekeeping of its orchestral sounds such that inner orchestral voices become audible one from another, than the Domestic Symphony of Richard Strauss that befouled the air of Disney Hall last Thursday. Some of the fault may be laid to Zubin Mehta, who as usual approached the podium as though awakened from a bad dream, but I defy anyone, from Salonen on down, to turn that ghastly farrago into music. Following the Dvorák Cello Concerto, wondrously played by Johannes Moser, did not, of course, help.
Now Trending
-
Voice Places
Find everything you're looking for in your city
-
Happy Hour App
Find the best happy hour deals in your city
-
Daily Deals
Get today's exclusive deals at savings of anywhere from 50-90%
-
Best Of...
Check out the hottest list of places and things to do around your city
- Profile
- Newsletters
- Mobile
- Logout
