Vaclav

Night at the Opera

More than two years ago, The Lyric Opera of Chicago turned 50, inaugurating that season with Mozart’s beloved opera Don Giovanni. I was there to mark the same personal anniversary. This time around, I arrived for the last performance of the current season that turned out to be the most powerful production of the year, the first performances of Francis Poulenc’s intensely spiritual “Dialogues des Carmélites”. Premiered in 1957 at La Scala in Milan, Italy. The “Carmelites” is considered by many the only true masterpiece opera of the second half of the 20th century. It transports us back to the 1790s, the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution, and tells a true story of the martyrdom of sixteen nuns at the monastery in Compiegne, France. Some time ago, I enjoyed listening to the best choice on cd, Pierre Derveuax’s recording from 1958 with many of the original La Scala cast, however, nothing equals the live theatre, and this one better be good, I was hoping in advance.

The Lyric is situated in the financial district of the Loop and the area feels pretty deserted on late Saturday afternoon. Not passing by for the first time, I should have known better to plan for a pre-theatre meal in advance. A quickly eaten slice of pizza at the train station across the river because nothing else was to be found in the vicinity is not too stylish a meal before the opera. Well, next time… As I was returning to enter the opera house, I witnessed a funny scene: A group of youngsters was handing pamphlets “Do not wear furs” to heavily fur-clad society matrons stepping out of their chauffeur-driven luxury vehicules who did their best to ignore the irritants. I, on the contrary, was thanked for not wearing any furs. Honestly, I do not own furs, and cannot imagine how terribly I would look wearing them. Once in the lobby, I gave myself enough time to get in the festive mood by circulating among the patrons while sipping a glass of overpriced sparkling wine and reading the program notes.

Tonight, I splurged and purchased a seat on the main floor as close to the stage as the Lyric computer would allow me. It took some ingenuity, holding several seats temporarily in the website shopping basket and discarding at the end all but one that appeared to be the most desirable. The opera centers around Blanche de la Force, the role sung by our own Canadian-Armenian lyric soprano Isabel Bayrakdarian, an intelligent singing actress, making very affecting Blanche. The culmination of the first act was the death of the old prioress, with Dame Felicity Palmer offering mesmerizing portrayal of Madame de Croissy. The second prioress, Madame Lidoine, starring Patricia Racette, was most remarkable when she sang Ave Maria with the other sisters in Act II. Finally, all 16 nuns find death under the guillotine at the very end of Act III in deeply moving scene singing Salve Regina. Canadian director Robert Carsen created minimalist production, shattering in its understatements: No scaffold, no blade, no beheading. The Lyric artistic director Sir Andrew Davis showed complete mastery of Poulenc’s score of 12 scenes in three acts. What a joy! The audience started to leave only reluctantly after the final curtain call also for the season.

By habit and as a token of appreciation, I always wait for the singers at the stage door. Since this is opera, not a Madonna or Rolling Stones show, usually I see there only about a dozen of fans, many of them relatives of acquaintances of the performers, and there is always a chance for a brief chat with your favourite star. A year ago there I got a chance to meet unexpectedly Renee Fleming who came to visit her friend Susan Graham singing Octavian in Der Rosenkavalier. This time, I almost missed Patricia Racette who was being literally pulled out of there by her better half Beth Clayton (another diva to whom she was very publicly married several years ago) while signing just one autograph. Isabel Bayrakdarian came out next and graciously signed my programme while I begged her to come and sing for us in Montreal. What a classy young lady and human being she is besides her art! Dame Palmer was a little bit in a hurry, perhaps understandably exhausted after the great performance that she has just given. I almost missed her and caught up with her only on the sidewalk with another fan, trying in vain to hail a cab for her. She was saved by Sir Davis who just appeared as if from nowhere and offered her a lift home. With Poulenc’s music still in my ears and fortified by two glasses of sparkling wine (by the way, it was Chandon, blanc de noir, from California), I returned to my hotel to absorb the evening.

Sunday morning

Since I moved to the Plateau de Mont-Royal (bordering to downtown), I do not subscribe to cable TV and have therefore only a handful of basic channels and weak signal. I consider watching commercial TV mostly a waste of time - with one or two exceptions, and I get to see those only in a hotel room when travelling. To help me digest the early breakfast, I tuned to the Sunday Today on NBC. The weekend co-host, Campbell Brown, goes down like a well-buttered toast, and actually you would not mind sharing your breakfast table with her. When I returned to my room, she was just introducing a segment “Nice guys finish first” and was about to interview an author of a recently published book on that subject. We live and work in intensely competitive environment and it certainly does not hurt to (re)discover, that it is occasionally refreshing to give or receive “the kindness of strangers”.

My ultimate favourite, though, is CBS Sunday Morning, and my heart goes out to Mr. Charles Osgood. His show covers subjects not normally covered by mainstream networks: Opera, classical music, fine cuisine and travel. It is well known fact that Mr. Osgood himself loves “fine living” and owns a vacation property on the French Riviera. It was only appropriate for him do a segment on the French winemaker Chateau Mouton de Rothschild, the house that prides itself on high quality wines and trademark bottle labels featuring works by famous artists. Mr. Osgood’s guest was Baroness Phillippine who explained in lively and entertaining English her selection process. Apparently, she is still waiting for David Hockney (whose retrospective exhibition last year in Boston I did not get to see) who promised to paint something for her “one day”. C’est la vie, Madame La Baronesse. Like all good things, that program was about to come to an end, and I got ready for another planned event: A visit to the Arts Institute of Chicago.

Later – with Georges

The Arts Institute can be counted as yet another iconic institution of The Loop, along with The Lyric and Chicago Symphony, to name a few. Not to have to be in a hurry, prior to leaving the Hampton Inn, I secured a 2 pm late check out and was left with four more hours to spend at my leisure before heading for the airport. Knowing that Georges will always be there, I did not look in advance to find out who else might be there as a temporary companion. To my delight, till May 12, the Institute is hosting a special exhibition “Cézanne to Picasso, Ambroise Vollard, Patron of the Avant-Garde”.

Actually, their system works well for early risers. Special exhibitions are open from 10 to 11 am for museum members only. That leaves us, out-of-towners, ample time to admire and explore the other exhibits. For many years, I have been hooked on the magic of Georges Seurat’s Un Dimanche Après-Midi à L’Ile de la Grande Jatte (Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte). Seurat was a neo (or post) impressionist painter who devised the pointillist technique of painting with tiny dots of pure colour. Imagine all that before the computer era! La Grande Jatte, a bigger-than-life canvass is considered the flagship painting of the Institute, and as such, it never travels. Shortly after 10 am, the museum was all but crowded and I had the luxury of sitting on a bench alone just in front of that masterpiece for quite a while. No-flash photography is permitted, and I am actually looking at a reproduction bought at the museum store and a picture of it that I took myself last year. It helps my concentration on task at hand!

At 11 am on the dot I was queued at the entrance for the special event. The main goal of the whole event is to emphasize the ways how Monsieur Vollard, art dealer, shaped the careers of our favourite artists and to help us understand the history of art from a fresh perspective. The highlight of the exposition is Paul Gauguin’s Tahitian masterpiece “Where Do We Come From? What Are We? Where Are We Going?” It is here on loan from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. It is another longer-than-life work of art (122 ft long). Nowadays, it is hard to believe that the painting did not sell until years later, to Gauguin’s dismay at the time as well. Somerset Maugham’s novel “The Moon and Sixpence”, inspired by life of Paul Gauguin is next on my list.

Another advantage of the Institute besides being manageable in size during a single visit is the restaurant facility. There is a choice of a very reasonably priced cafeteria where I lunched on corned beef, cabbage and baked potato, or a full-service restaurant for those not pressed for time to return quickly to the collection. For it was well past noon, the museum started to fill up and I wanted to go for a stroll in the adjacent Millenium Park, it was time to say good bye, à la prochaine and head out.

Back to O’Hare and home

Outdoor mass events, often held on Sundays in major North American cities, can cause unpredictable traffic havoc and one could easily miss a flight. I learned that the hard way in New York City and only then took time to figure out how to get to the LGA airport by subway and bus. Riding on CTA trains is even easier, and I knew exactly how much time to set aside. My apology to those who noticed me calling erroneously parts of Chicago proper “suburbs” in the first part of my report. I stand corrected now! Knowing that all flights to Canada were oversold long time ago due to the end of the Ontario school break and considering the potential delays as a result of the earlier winter storm on the east coast, I did not want to take any chances to miss my return flight. Nver mind the confirmed upgrade and Elite status, I did not care to be bumped this time and deal with all the hassle.

My prediction proved true. It was mayhem in progress at ORD. Air Canada had many flights cancelled or severely delayed due to mechanical issues with their new Embraer aircraft flying in cold weather, other airlines were operating in “service recovery mode” as after the storm effect. I was offered an earlier flight but wisely refused , reconfirmed my web check in and returned to the ORD Hilton for a swim and sauna. Hilton Honors Gold qualifies you for half price day pass, and at $6 it was quite bargain with huge locker and towels supplied.

Refreshed, I returned to the terminal and headed for the E concourse gates. Before long, I was on the other side of the fence ready for the lounge hopping. At ORD (in contrast to MIA or BOS) it is possible to walk among the concourses going through security only once. My first stop in line was the Delta Crown Room at concourse L. Entering with my Priority Pass, I settled in a corner seat with a glass of complimentary cabernet sauvignon and a travel magazine. Outside, an American Airlines MD80 (why do they still operate those gas-guzzlers?) was being pushed away from the gate with another one ready to pull in. Many other guests were talking on cell phones, dealing with cancelled flights.

The time came to return to concourse E and check the latest situation for my flight AC512. It was the only one listed “on time”. With almost two more hours to spare, I walked completely on the other side to concourse B and to the United Airlines Red Carpet Club. Entering with my Air Canada Elite (Star Alliance Gold) card. Their lounges resemble the most miserable places you can imagine. It was not only crowded but they had almost nothing on offer. I ate an orange, grabbed a bunch of candies and Twix chocolate bars and returned to my gate. Now all flights were delayed. I was talking to some passengers admiring how they took the situation in stride, like a group of tradesmen from Prince Edward Island, returning from a training course. They spent the whole day (!) at ORD, being shifted from one oversold flight to another. I gave them the candies and chocolate bars and decided to check more lounges. I could take in one guest but they were three and did not want to leave anybody behind – fair enough.

I had a choice on another RCC which is a joke and a combined Continental/North West President’s Club, entering once more with a Priority Pass. The place has a nice view of the tarmac, quiet area (no cell phones), and complimentary refreshments including wine. None of them however beat Maple Leaf lounges of Air Canada. By now I had enough of the lounges and wanted to get going home. The incoming A320 of AC511 was slowly (and late) pulling in.

Shortly before boarding AC512, I saw that the tradesmen from PEI got their boarding passes for the same flight. One of them wanted to call his wife but changed his mind, saying: I will believe it when I am board and the door closes. With so many stranded passengers, some travelling with children, boarding was little bit disorganized, with only two overworked and overstressed agents handling it all. Obviously, it was a full flight. Settled in 2D, ready for another glass of Codorniu and chicken skewer – by now, I knew the “menu” by heart. This A320 was not yet XMd but I found it in remarkably clean and in shape. When the service started, I was given only one skewer and asked how it was possible that the quantity varied from 1 to 3. The in-charge FA replied that they did not expect a full flight. She was misinformed because all flights were full or oversold for days. Anyway, more chicken skewers were found and seconds were offered. Again, with the little they have to serve nowadays, the service was very good.

The arrival to Toronto was late and then they could not find the ground crew to pull the bridge. I was among the first who deplaned, running like a lunatic across T1 to the Canadian Customs and Immigration hoping somehow to make up a one hour delay. The young female officer was sympathetic, handed me back my papers fast and said: Run, you may still make it. I consider myself in excellent shape relative to my age, had only a carry on and I am used to travelling. So if I am not familiar with the particular airport, I can quickly figure out how and where to proceed. Many others probably did not make their connections and it is a shame.

Sprinting again across the whole place and going through another security where they wanted to see the inside of my carry on, I finally reached the gate of AC434 that happened to be delayed due again to the missing flight attendant. As I was standing very close to the gate, I noticed that the in charge FA came out and was interested in the passenger names. Then he had some of them upgraded. I was just wondering how many were his friends – or more employees perhaps? Well, finally the missing FA showed up and we were allowed to board. Being still in good mood due to the cultural events experienced in Chicago, I decided to continue reading my novel while having more Codorniu and chicken. At this time, it did not really matter what they had or did not, so I did not even bother with close to mediocre service. It was past midnight and they all must have been tired.

All ended well in Montreal. I was parked in a covered parking and was thus spared shovelling the snow. In an hour I was at home and in bed, since Monday was a working day for all.

I hope that you have enjoyed a little but my long report. Next time, I will try to upload some pictures. My upcoming itineraries: Vancouver for Easter and later in the month Czech Republic.