Wait, who reached into my deepest dreams and made one happen? Aprile Millo is blogging, and it's more than a bit disorienting, and quite obscenely exciting. If I were a Catholic nun and I found out that the Virgin Mary blogged, I'd have approximately the same celestial ecstasy. Because we at Sieglinde's Diaries adore her oh so much. We are eager to receive blog posts on her own performances (next is Montemezzi's L'Incantesimo), and, wouldn't it be an eternal Christmas Eve if she were to review other people's performances too? Watch out for the rose-perfumed talons, oooh. But that's a time-will-tell and what-limb-to-give-up issue. Meanwhile, in the here-and-now, we are happy to read any emanation. Her latest post laments the current state of the American Idol we call opera:
(Is all we're saying, Anna.)With each passing a little bit of history and example is gone too. That is going to mean a lot in a few years. The examples of what is correct and acceptable in music. The right color for a role is completely gone today as everyone sings everything. A soubrette, no matter how dark would never approach Il Trovatore or Norma. A voice for Wagner would be just that with rare exceptions if the color could pass for Italian.
Style? If they sing the notes and reasonably make it to the end most seem happy. To have discussed music with Tebaldi, and Olivero, and Milanov, with Bergonzi and Pavarotti and so many fabulous singers from the past generation is to hear about a time when there was a more advanced expectation from both the singer and the public. A feeling of religiosity was pervasive, a “calling”….dressed as if going to church, respect.