Sexy sedition

So we did indeed go to the Marriage of Figaro yesterday and Paolo Szot, as predicted, was sex on legs to a degree that's not fit even for pseudonymous print. I enjoyed it very much, but the Ghent opera house has horrible sightlines from the nosebleed section - really shitty compared to the Star Wars-y new Toronto opera house or the State Opera in Berlin, the last two places I sat in the nosebleed section. But different times, different priorities. The Ghent house seemed much older, and viciously, blowsily ornate in a way people in Toronto might recognize from the Winter Theatre, or the Elgin, or whatever the fuck corporate name they've slapped it with following its umpteenth buyout. I think it was the Kodak Theatre, or the Minolta, or some other C-grade photocopier company.

That was something that bothered me about Toronto - everything was getting slapped with a corporate name. The new opera house is the Four Seasons, I believe; the Skydome is now labelled the Rogers Centre after the evil incompetent media company that once pushed me into screaming at some poor fuck working for minimum wage at one of their call centres, and then all the big performance theatres are corporately renamed too. I know such institutions in Canada really need the money now that they can't take funding from cigarette companies anymore and our goddamn cheap government doesn't mind the idea of us satisfying our cultural needs by watching American network television. But that doesn't make me feel any fucking better. Canadians are struggling along with the same retardedly high tax burdens as most of Europe, and most of Europe doesn't have to fucking rename its cultural landmarks after the corporations that keep them afloat as an advertising tool. AND most of Europe has a public health service that functions a hell of a lot better. Anyhow. I live here now so I should get over it.

So, the Ghent opera house has horrible sightlines. The F-word got frustrated and left for the second half, which is too bad because the second half is where it gets all horny and one thinks of what a naughty little perv Mozart must have been. Also too bad because, like always, the second half is much emptier, as people realize they've over-estimated how much they like opera and can't face the last 1.5 hours.

The Marriage of Figaro is a very sexy and naughty opera, and the naughtiness has a real political tone, of course; it famously raised some eyebrows by mocking an aristocrat by showing the comparative cleverness of his servants - there's something deliciously seditious about the whole thing still. But what I like the most about it is the distribution of lead voices - baritone (and it's Paolo Szot, a hot Brazilian baritone who can act at that), bass baritone, some sopranos - no fucking tenors, who usually don't do anything good for me. Even Cherubino, the young horndog, is a cross-dressing mezzo. She (in this case, Angelique Noldus) really stood out for me, as did the Countess, Maria Bengtsson - a lovely, rich, velvety voice. Ainhoa Garmendia as Susanna was vocally unobjectionable and a better actress than the other two, though I only got to appreciate that in the second half when part of the audience had fucked off. Figaro, Tuomas Pursio, was frigging awesome. I must add him to my stalk list as he's worth weekend tripping to another city for.