"So I was thinking about Paris Hilton."
"Tell me about it."
"Well, I don't usually think about her that much, you know. To tell the truth, I never think about her at all. I mean, she's not attractive to me. In fact, I think she kind of looks like Robert Vaughn. But I was thinking, you know, if all you are is famous for being famous, then what are you going to be famous for when you're not famous anymore?"
"I see. Tell me, what else has been going on in your life."
"What else? Not much really. I got one of those Casio keyboards. You know, those little ones you can buy at Target or someplace like that. It used to be my niece's but she never used it so my brother gave it to me. Anyways, I got the thing and I can't stop playing it."
"Have you ever experienced this kind of obsessive behavior before?"
"What? No, it's like I used to play the guitar about a hundred years ago, and, it was like, you know, all by ear. I'd be like 'Dude, that was awesome. Teach me how to play that' and the guy would show me the chords, but I never understood any of the musical reasons behind it. You know, you just play the chords and that's it. But with this keyboard, it's like you can see what's happening. It's like, wow, that's a C major chord and if I drop these two notes down a half-step then that's a C minor, and if I add this seventh then that's a C minor 7th. It's hard to see that on a guitar, but on a keyboard it's all right there. Man, it's great. Here I am a grown man and I can't stop playing with this toy keyboard. If I would've had one of these when I was a kid I'd probably still be up in my room playing with it. My dad would be like 'Son, you've been playing with that thing for the past 30 years now. Don't you think it's about time you went out and made a living?', and I'd be like 'but Dad, look, an A minor 9th'. "
"This troubles me a little. Have you been ..."
"So I figure this music thing isn't that hard, you know. Who needs Julliard? A couple more weeks of practice and I think I'll finally be able to write that opera of mine."
"Oh yes, the opera. How's that coming along?"
"It's coming along. Want to hear what I've got so far?"
"Yes, please go on."
"Well, first the characters. The tenor I'm gonna call Jared. He's gonna be the hero because, well, he's the tenor. Jared's like this web-savvy, Gen Y, wired-in, bleeding edge type who writes for a popular website. I figure Jared to be one of those types who's always putting down everything that's considered tasteful and praising everything that's considered distasteful because, you know, it's a sign of his blistering intelligence and sophistication. He's also got a lot of charisma, and fellow Gen-Y'rs flock to him because he's so counterculture and in your face."
"Ok."
"I don't have a name for the soprano yet. She's a singer though, and a good one. "
"Why don't you call her Tosca?"
"Ha, ha, very funny doc. She's not Tosca. Are you kidding? This is a modern opera. Tosca would never work in a modern opera. Anyways, she's had this cultured upbringing and is very successful in her field, but for some reason she feels terribly unfulfilled. She keeps wanting to escape her squeaky-clean, antispetic image, so whenever she can she likes to venture out to the seamier side of town. It's the only kind of rebellion she can safely act out within the narrow confines of her world."
"That's it?"
"No, I've also got my evil baritone. He's an old man. Not a bitter old man, just a displaced one, who has long since given up on ever finding any lasting happiness in the world and has withdrawn to a reclusive and bookish life, perfectly content to go on that way till the day he dies. Nothing more than a pathetic old man."
"Yes, that is pretty pathetic. Go on."
"Well, it's a love triangle, you see."
"Oh God, not another love triangle."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't really have the story worked out but it goes something like this. Act One opens with the old man coming into the big city to run some kind of errand. However, his errand takes him to a neighborhood that he hasn't been to in twenty years. Immediately he's confronted by people he doesn't run into in the safe, suburban neighborhood where he lives. Street people, hustlers, and dope addicts all hitting him up for cigarettes and spare change.
"He starts feeling a little nervous and upset and longs to be back in the comfort of his familiar surroundings. Then he sees something that he's never seen before. It's a couple standing on the street corner. The guy has spiked hair which he's died fire engine red and is wearing a ratty old leather coat. He doesn't look well. His girlfriend, though, frightens the old man. She is thin and gaunt, her face is ashen and pale, and her eyes are big, black empty hollows. She looks like she just got out of her deathbed to stand here on this corner. The old man can't believe his eyes. He sees her and realizes he's looking at the living dead.
"The young guy asks him for some change and he shrugs him off, and then the young guy asks him 'Hey, you looking for some fun? For twenty bucks my girlfriend will make you happy. I guarantee it.' The old man looks at the girl and can't believe what he's just heard. What kind of a person would sell his girlfriend for twenty bucks?
"The old man is disgusted and torn. On the one hand he is tempted to just give the girl the twenty bucks and go on his way, but for what? So she can put more poison in her arm? He can't be responsible for that. On the other hand, what will she do? Will she just die out here on the streets tonight if he doesn't help? Finally, all he can do is just shrug and continue on his way. He can't solve the world's problems.
"Further down the street he hears a voice singing in one of the clubs. It's the soprano, and he's immediately taken by the sound of her voice. He goes into the club and sees her up on stage and for the first time in twenty years he is overcome with feelings he thought he buried long ago. As she continues to sing he feels that he must get to know this girl and somehow make her his. That's what I've got so far."
"That's all?"
"Well, you see, that part of the story is true. I mean, it really happened. To me. Last month, I mean. Anyways, I changed some of the details, but for the most part it's true. The rest of it I have to make up."
"And?"
"And? Ok, I'm still working on it but generally the rest will go like this. The old man introduces himself to the soprano but she doesn't want to have anything to do with this pathetic old man. She's more interested in Jared, who's also in the club that night. Jared is the center of attention of all the digerati in the club, and they all celebrate the modern world and its decadence. The chorus joins in and they then sing about the joys of youthful freedom. Soon Jared notice's the soprano's interest in him and he walks up to her. She is immediately impressed by his coarseness and crude ways, and they sing a love duet before disappearing offstage for some passionate lovemaking. End of Scene I.
"Scene II opens with the old man bemoaning his fate and cursing Jared and the soprano who has stolen his heart. Soon the soprano appears singing a beautiful aria about her new love, after which she suddenly remembers she has left her coat behind in Jared's room. She returns for her coat, but instead finds Jared passionately engaged with another young woman. She is enraged, and can't believe that no sooner has she left than he has brought in someone else to take her place.
"Jared laughs at her foolishness, and reminds her that this is a new world, one full of pleasures, and she should laugh with him and enjoy all that worldliness has to offer. She angrily leaves and soon runs into the old man again. She is crying now and the old man consoles her and asks her to dry her tears and come away with him. She is furious with Jared, and reluctantly agrees. Act One ends as they depart.
"Act Two opens in living room of the old man's house. He and the soprano are married now, but it is not a happy marriage. She is restless in the quiet surroundings and longs for the hustle and bustle of the city. An old friend she knew from the music academy is visiting and she complains to her about this suffocating existence of hers. She never should have married the old man, and now she feels trapped. Her friend tries to console her and reminds her that the old man loves her and how wonderful it is to be loved. She then sings about her love back home and their quiet nights before the fire. It's only by finding true love that any of us can be happy she tells the soprano.
"The soprano will hear none of it. She is a famous singer, a star. The whole world loves her. How can she settle for the love of just one man. No, that kind of love is for fools. She wants freedom. She wants to travel. She wants to love any man she pleases. She will never be happy with just one man."
"Uh-oh, sounds like
Sempre Libre to me."
"Yeah, I'll have to work on that. Anyways, the old man comes home. The friend greets him and tells him how wonderful it is that he has given the soprano all this happiness. 'Happiness?', the old man asks. The friend tells him that she is sure that deep down inside the soprano truly loves the old man. Then she leaves.
"Immediately, the old man settles into a chair and begins to read. This infuriates the soprano who asks him how he can be so dull. How can he sit in that chair night after night and read book after book and not get out and see the lights and revel in the sultry air of the bars and cabarets. She will not spend the night in this house, she tells him, and demands that he take her somplace where she can dance and flirt and drink champagne. The old man is stunned, but agrees to take her into town. End of Scene I.
"Scene II opens back at the club. The old man is feeling tired and out of place but the soprano is living it up. A little ballet here would work. Then after the ballet Jared walks into the club and immediately the old fire between Jared and the soprano is rekindled. The old man sees what is happening and confronts Jared. Jared angrily tells the old man to go home, telling him that it is time that he reclaimed what the old man had stole from him. A fight breaks out and Jared throws the old man to the floor. The crowd then leaves, and only the old man is left sitting in the dirt and filth of the barroom floor. End of Act Two.
"Act Three opens in Jared's apartment. The worldliness and debauchery that Jared so heartily embraced have begun to take their toll. In fact, Jared is now a drug addict. He is sitting on the sofa with the young street addict from Act One and they are both fixing up. The soprano walks into the apartment and sees them on the sofa. Angrily, she tells the young girl to leave, which she does. Jared scowls at the soprano, telling her to mind her own business. Saddened, she sings of her love for him and hopes that one day he will come back to her when they will laugh as they did before. Jared curses her, and she takes him in her arms.
"At that moment there is a knock at the door. It is the old man, and when the door is opened he confronts the lovers. He asks her 'what is this hell-hole that you are living in', and reminds her that she was once a famous singer. He also reminds her that she is still his wife and demands that she come home with him. Never, she replies and demands that he leave.
"Jared, however, tired of the soprano's constant interference in his life, tells her to go with the old man. Shocked, she asks him how can he ask that of her. She loves him, she pleads. Well, he replies, he doesn't love her. He never did and wishes she would just go away and leave him alone. She will never abandon him she says.
"Just then, the old man sees the drugs lying on the coffee table and feeling incensed that the soprano would rather stay with Jared than come with him, he grabs them in his hand. 'Is this your life?', he asks the soprano. 'Is this what has become of you? Well watch me, then, as I flush this vulgar life of yours down the toilet.' Jared, seeing his stash about to be flushed down the toilet rises to his feet and screams at the old man. 'Give me back my drugs', he yells at him, 'they don't belong to you'. The old man laughs, and taunts Jared. 'You want your drugs, junkie, well come and take them from me'.
"Panicked, Jared lunges at the old man but he is very stoned and can't grab the drugs. The old man continues to laugh and Jared continues to lunge. 'Look, look at your hero now' he tells the soprano. 'Jared, the great lover, now no more than a common junkie'. Flushed, Jared stares at the old man and then leaves for the bedroom. The soprano disgustedly spits at the old man, and tells him he will never have her love. She will never come back to him. Fine, says the old man, then die here in the gutter with Jared.
"At that moment Jared emerges from the bedroom with a gun. The soprano screams as Jared lifts the revolver and shoots the old man dead. He then drops the gun, picks up the drugs, and hurriedly makes his way back to the couch to prepare another fix. The soprano looks at Jared and sobs 'you were willing to let him have me, but you killed him rather than let him have your drugs'. Jared only stares as the heroin begins to take over, and silently he slips off into oblivion.
"The soprano picks up the needle and the drugs, and sits next to Jared in silence. Then she takes the spoon and cooks up a dose, sticks the needle in her vein, puts her arms around Jared and tells him now we are at peace. End of Opera."
"What? End of Opera? That's it?"
"Well, ok, I'm working on it."
"I certainly hope so. What kind of ending is that?"
"I said I'm working on it, ok? Sheesh. You know Wagner didn't write Parsifal on his first try."
"Yeah, well, I think we need to talk about this some more."
"You mean again?"
"Make the appointment on your way out."
"See you next month Doc."
Anyways, 25 year old Baiba Skride is another one of those celebrated European violinists who is just now starting to make a name for herself in America. The problem is that when you look at her picture you can't help but thinking "uh-oh, not another overated, glamour queen violinist. Sheesh..." There's no question that she is quite a beauty, but fortunately she has some talent to go along with her good looks.
Unfortunately for Skride, after listening to Julia Fischer play Mozart I think it's hard for any violinist not suffer in comparison. Skride plays a very spirited Mozart Violin Concerto No.3, but she just doesn't play with the same joy or the achingly beautiful and delicate lines that Fischer does. Particularly in the adagio you begin to notice that Skride sounds at times a little too deliberate, and at other times a little too precious, though always very expressive and musical. It's tough - I like Skride's playing, but at the same time I can't forget that Fischer plays this better.
And you know what, with all the talented new players coming along these days, this just may be shaping up as the golden age of the violin. One weekend last month we had no less that four violinists giving concerts and recitals around the Bay Area, and coming up we have Christian Tetzlaff coming to town to play with MTT and the SF Symphony, and, wouldn't you know it, Baiba Skride giving a recital with her sister Lauma at the Palace of the Legion of Honor. After Tetzlaff's really awful performance of the Stravinsky Violin Concerto on the SF Symphony's Opening Night I don't know if I'm really anticipating another appearance by him, but Skride might be worth a trip up to the city (in fairness to Tetzlaff, the Chronicle reported that he had to read the notes off the score as he gave that performance, so apparently he hadn't had time to properly prepare. Still, it was truly awful. I didn't see it, I just heard it on the radio)
