Okay, I’m done, the operaplot deadline has passed, and I actually submitted a whopping 25 (the max allowed). I’m going to guess MIss Mussel limits the entries next year; how Jonas Kauffmann is going to go through all of these I don’t know!

While we are told we have 140 characters in which to get our plot out there, we really only have 130 (or 131 if you don’t put a space between the plot and the #operaplot tag that is required). Sometimes that was a challenge. Obviously you have to draw out only a portion of the plot; operas can get rather complicated!

I’m not sure if all of mine will be understood by everyone. One requires knowledge of a song from White Christmas to really “get”. Some might be a bit vague, but I always try to have a hint that opera lovers will catch. None of mine are the sort that appeal to the folks who like those funny ways of spelling words (like using numbers as letters), and I don’t use symbols because those don’t always translate to someone else’s page (I’m probably using the wrong codes when I do that). I did receive some very kind kudos from some, but I know others really weren’t impressed. There you go. It’s all a matter of taste, yes?

But here they are, ready or not. Can you guess the operas? Hope so!

  • She dances just to get a head.
  • Why would he leave true love? Only the shadow knows. It all results in bedlam.
  • No virgin village this, but there’s one fish in the sea who is. Will it be the death of him? Naw. Grab the money & run for fun!
  • When a girl can’t get the guy she wants she takes care of him in a pyramid scheme. At least he doesn’t die lonely.
  • Sisters! Sisters! Never have u seen such fickle sisters. Turks arrive & they fall so quick. Fiances return; it was all a trick.
  • Cold hands, warm heart. Come Spring, we will part. Cough cough, say goodbye. Warmer hands, but still I die.
  • Ah, that old black magic. Wishes are granted; knowledge & power of genius are his. But the devil is in the details.
  • Love is in the air and at Bullier’s! But her sordid past nixes marriage; it’s something she just can’t swallow.
  • Leaving your husband & child isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. In the end she finally gets on track.
  • A ghostly resemblance & a hairy strangulation. Whew! Murder is all illusion. That does it, I’m gonna escape this dead city.
  • Fall in love with an ass? Dream on.
  • Whoa, he sure faked well in front of that firing squad. Oh. Wait. Guess I’ll take a flying leap.
  • He’s made a long list, checked it more than twice. Everyone knows he’s naughty, not nice. Dinner time for Statue & Don.
  • It’s all relatives except the biggest winner, Gianni.
  • Oh say can you see my American wife? She will come take your child, and you’ll take your life.
  • It won’t end well; U love your friend’s wife. He will find out & you’ll lose your life but 1st pardon is given; all is forgiven.
  • A Golden Opportunity! Buy the chocolate. Find the ticket. Get the tour. Will Charlie win Wonka’s heart? Willie?
  • Always trouble! Man, wanting to stroke soft fur can get a person shot in the head. That’s so not mice.
  • 3 Rhine maidens like to sing; this is how we start the Ring. It won’t end for several days, with lots of death & one large blaze.
  • I love her, she loves me not. What’s he have that I ain’t got? Mmmmm, elixir hits the spot! (I even rhymed with #operaplot!)
  • Families feud. Lovers wed. Potion taken, she looks dead. Lovers sing. Lovers die. Feud is over. Now goodbye.
  • She threw the wrong baby into the fire, now the gypsy’s only desire is avenging her mom, & then she’ll retire.
  • His painted on smile does nothing but chill her and his clownin’ around will be a real killer.
  • If he’d stuck to loving his tree instead of wanting me there wouldn’t be three acts of misery. At least it all ends happily.
  • Smokin’ hot story: Seduction. Desertion. Prediction of death. Rejection. New lover. She takes her last breath.

Here is our judge this year, Jonas Kaufmann:

And here he is, joined by a few others (Renee Fleming, Barbara Vignudelli and Paolo Cautoruccio), singing some of La Rondine.

Bevo al Tuo Fresco Sorriso

30. April 2010 · Comments Off on Rondine Review Compilation · Categories: Opera, Reviews

Okay … what I’ve seen so far:

I don’t know if we’ve ever received so many reviews. Guess La Rondine got some people’s attention, eh?

30. April 2010 · Comments Off on Sing For Hope · Categories: Videos

They love what “sing for hope” stands for:

For some reason I just get this sound of little kids banging on a piano happening all around New York, combined with horns honking and people swearing at pedestrians for getting in the way.

Yeah, sometimes I’m a cynic.

But I hope someone goes around with a video camera and films this event. Prove me wrong, k?

30. April 2010 · Comments Off on TQOD · Categories: TQOD

omg I am so jealous that you play the oboe! I will learn before I die

30. April 2010 · Comments Off on Bret Beat Me (And It Didn’t Hurt At All) · Categories: News

Bret Pimentel blogs more about the possibility of an oboist on the Supreme Court. An article by Meghan Daum, author of the article Music is my Bag (an article that upset some and even made one musician get weepy, believe it or not), writes that The Supreme Court could use an oboist.

Wood is an oboist.

This is no minor detail. The oboe isn’t just an instrument; it’s a way of life. Wood plays the oboe (and its bulbous cousin, the English horn) in two orchestras, the Chicago Bar Assn. Symphony and the North Shore Chamber Orchestra in Evanston, Ill. Presumably these gigs don’t demand the concentration and practice time of the Chicago Symphony, or even of a woodwind ensemble composed entirely of members of the American Board of Thoracic Surgery, but they’re pretty darn impressive. Playing the oboe means living your life entirely at the mercy of tiny wooden double reeds that crack at inopportune moments (weirder and more awful yet, you’re supposed to make them yourself as though you were a 19th century artisan). It also means blowing so hard into them that you risk a brain aneurysm every time you try to hit a high D. It also means you’re a huge nerd.

I know all this because I was an oboist myself. And I use “was” loosely. Although it’s been nearly 20 years since I bought a spit rag at Sam Ash or prayed to make it through the last movement of the Mozart Oboe Concerto, once an oboist, always an oboist.


30. April 2010 · Comments Off on But Can It Make An Oboe Reed? · Categories: Videos

I do love the bobbing head thing goin’ on.