Notes on Notes

Paintings by Vuillard: fabric-a-dabra

Made it to the last week of Edouard Vuillard at the Jewish Museum.  He's quoted as saying something like, "I don't paint portraits:  I paint people in their surroundings."  The exhibition is called "A Painter and his Muses."   His mother was a dressmaker, and his real muse was fabric.  Neither his people nor his drawing or color rendering are as well done or as appealing as whatever dress or curtains steal the show.If you go, the shop has interesting gifts for the Jewish holidays--including a mini-box of "Mother's chewing gum," which says on the side, "Go.  Rot your teeth."

 

Met "Ring" cycle on PBS: a great miracle happened here

This view, from "Die Walkure," looks down from our helicopter through the ring of flames, at Brunnhilde with her sword and shield, having been put to sleep on a rock by the god Wotan (in blue) as punishment for disobeying him.  (Siegfried will come along and wake her, and after a short ecstatic time, things will get disastrously worse for all.)

Wagner's four-opera "Ring" cycle, in last year's Metropolitan Opera's monumental, controversial staging by Robert Lepage, was televised on PBS over four nights.  After the introduction, the announcer said, "And now, without further interruption, here is 'Gotterdammerung'" (or whichever of the four).

Without further interruption.  These giant operas took up to 5 hours apiece, with not only no commercials, but no intermission distractions.  

Hearing the Met's cycle in one gluttonous gulp--without leaving your house or paying the big bucks--is an immense gift.  One can focus on themes that develop from one opera to the next, and become familiar enough to get earworms from some.  (I'm embarrassed to say what mine was, but I can tell you that "Hojo toho--wah!" is no way to call a waitress.)

We all know about network television--about 5 minutes of commercials for about 6 of programming.  Or the other way round.  And cable is worse.  So what must it have cost PBS to say, "Without further interruption," and then give us 4 or 5 hours of Met performances four nights running? 

Whoever made this possible is a real superhero.  (And now we can sing Wagner's theme for that.)  Where's my checkbook?