George Frideric Handel

Opera Review: George Frideric Handel’s “Acis and Galatea” at White Recital Hall

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

“Oh, the pleasure of the plains!”  The exuberance of the opening line of George Frideric Handel’s “Acis and Galatea” possessed special resonance for me at White Recital Hall on Thursday, November 4.  The UMKC Conservatory presentation was my first in-person post-Covid opera experience.  I loved every minute of the amusingly frisky and refreshingly irreverent production.

Two unfortunate elements failed to derail the integrity of the performance.  Rather than the sumptuous orchestral accompaniment that helps make “Acis and Galatea” delightful, the vocalists were supported solely by piano.  The performers also wore masks.  While commendable, the hindrance obscured their voices.  The same couldn’t be said for the dullards in the audience of about 100 who pulled down their masks when the house lights were dimmed. 

Forgiving the inappropriate applause that followed several energetic arias was easier.  In spite of the minimalist set, the outstanding stage direction of Mo Zhou resembled a series of Spike Jonze pop music videos more than the conventional operatic stagings associated with Franco Zeffirelli.  The cast’s vocals were good; their acting was even better.  Single-camera footage of the pleasure of the plains has already been uploaded to YouTube.

Never Too Much: Playboi Carti and R.A.P. Ferreira

Screenshot of Komische Oper Berlin’s production of "Semele" by There Stands the Glass.

Screenshot of Komische Oper Berlin’s production of "Semele" by There Stands the Glass.

Two hip-hop albums I’ve listened to compulsively in the last several days have almost nothing in common.  Playboi Carti’s synthetic Whole Lotta Red is a decadent exercise in willful stupidity.  R.A.P. Ferreira’s organic Bob's Son: In the Garden Level Cafe of the Scallops Hotel resembles the extracurricular activities of an undergraduate teacher assistant in an elite university’s philosophy department.  I love ‘em both.  The loony idiocy of Whole Lotta Red is propelled by exhilarating digital beats.  And while the Atlantan’s lyrics are absurd, Carti possesses the flow of a futuristic jazz artist.  Ferreira actually is a sort of jazz artist.  Bob’s Son sounds like a J Dilla remix of a collaboration between Frank Zappa and the Last Poets.  Yet one element of Bob’s Son is disappointing.  A few of his raps about rapping- one of my biggest pet peeves- can be interpreted as insults of mumble rappers like Carti.  Why so reactionary?  My world is big enough to accommodate the wildly disparate work of both men.

---

I’m already backsliding.  Three days after concluding my opera-a-day marathon, I began watching Komische Oper Berlin’s production of "Semele", a remarkably saucy George Friedrich Handel opera I’d yet to see.  I was rewarded by the discovery of "Endless Pleasure, Endless Love" at the end of the first act.  Playboi Carti would approve.

---

I review The Standards, Vol. 1, the new album by the Christopher Burnett Quintet, at Plastic Sax.

Album Review: Metz- Atlas Vending

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

As an impressionable teen during the punk revolution, I bought into rigid credos I now know are hogwash.  The Canadian band Metz breaks a few of the bogus rules on the opening track of its new album Atlas Vending"Pulse" overlays what could be the catchiest riff from Led Zeppelin’s sinuous “Dancing Days” over bleak Gang of Four-style scaffolding.  True punks know that’s against the rules!  Metz’s willful disregard of the dilapidated form’s restrictive codes is invigorating.  Unrelenting rage and artistic abandon makes Metz one of the relatively few purveyors of guitar-based rock that doesn’t sound ridiculous in 2020.

---

I continue to aggravate Kansas City jazz pollyannas at Plastic Sax.

---

Opera update: Although necessity dictated I slightly expand my parameters, the streak is still alive.  I recommend the remarkable treatment Staatsoper Hannover gives to Handel's gorgeous “oratorio Il trionfo del tempo e del disinganno.”  The drab production of Beethoven’s “Fidelio” I began watching during lunch today will be #207 in 207 days.