A few weeks ago Sir Alexander McCall Smith visited Portland from his home in Scotland. For those of you for whom that name rings no bells let me explain that he is famous on two different fronts. As an author he has written a very successful series of books whose theme is The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency. There have so far been nine of these novels all of which are set in Botswana and revolve around not only the solving of mysteries but the eccentricities and foibles of the characters involved. A series is in preparation for broadcast on BBC television, so I imagine that we may expect to see it here a few years down the road. In addition to his authoring, Smith is the founder and driving force behind the The Really Terrible Orchestra. This group of players whose enthusiasm greatly outweighs their technical ability or musicality was founded by Smith in 1995 as "an inclusive orchestra for those who really want to play, but who cannot do so very well. Or cannot do so at all, in some cases." This orchestra has developed something of a cult following, particularly in Edinburgh where it regularly performs at the annual Edinburgh Festival under what it describes as the distinguished baton of Sir Richard Neville-Towle. Indeed so popular have they become that a guest gig is much sought after, as evidenced by the fact that when they performed the Major-General's song from Gilbert and Sullivan's HMS Pinafore they had a real Major-General to sing it. Sir Alexander wrote a charming column for the New York Times recently entitled “And The Band Played Badly.” I recommend that you read it and give yourself a smile to get the week off to a happy start.
All of which leads me to why I am writing about Sir Alexander here and now. He has turned his attention to opera. Not just listening to it or writing about it either. He has founded an opera company with its very own opera house (not surprisingly perhaps named the No. 1 Ladies Opera House) in Gaborone, the capital of Botswana. I say “opera house” but really it is a converted garage (please keep your quips about the Keller Auditorium to a minimum here, folks). I first read about this in the Daily Mail and you too may read the article here. At a time when those of us who are into the opera world find ourselves obsessing over Peter Gelb and the Met broadcasts or Anna Netrebko and her pregnancy, it is so very refreshing to be reminded that this art form, because its attraction is so very visceral and emotional, is capable of reaching out to everyone. I do hope Smith finds the support and enthusiasm in the community to make this venture a success. This is about as grass-roots as an opera company can be and I find the whole venture very exciting. I shall be following their progress and you may expect reports.
Reading about this opera house made me think of another and not dissimilar venue. A few years ago when returning from a few days of cultural craziness at Burning Man, Holly, Elizabeth and I stumbled upon the Amargosa Opera House in Death Valley Junction, Nevada. This charming but very funky little place is run by an amazing character named Marta Becket. She discovered this building while on a trip to Death Valley in 1967, renovated it and has been performing there ever since. This year marks her 40th anniversary. I would just love to host a dinner for her and the redoubtable Sir Alexander McCall Smith. For all their differences I'll bet they would have much to discuss and similar experiences to share and laugh about. If you ever find yourself in Death Valley Junction, stop by and say hello. They really don't make 'em like Martha any more.
Very well. I have kept you in suspense long enough and will now answer your silent question "What the devil is a picture of Marilyn Monroe doing on Operaman's blog?" A number of reasons, gentle reader, none of which has anything whatever to do with opera. The first is that that picture is so very, well, Summer-y, don't you think? Barefoot and sitting on a roundabout and all. C'mon, don't you just want to hand her a cold glass of lemonade and bat the bugs away so they don't disturb her? And then I liked that she is reading James Joyce's Ulysses. Dumb blonde? Okay, hands up - and be honest now - how many of you have read Ulysses? That's what I thought. And as Holly, who sent me this picture, pointed out she is at the very end of the book and must be reading Molly Bloom's soliloquy and one really does wonder what she made of that! This photograph was taken in 1956 at a time when Monroe was dating the playwright Arthur Miller whom she married later that year so perhaps that volume belonged to him. Marilyn and I share the same birthday, though she was born somewhat in advance of me. We don't have much else in common. For instance I was never crowned the annual Artichoke Queen in Castroville, California, as she was in 1946.
Enjoy your Summer and try to keep cool this week. Oh, and do enjoy your July 4th. I was in Fred Meyer's yesterday where they have what they call “fireworks” but aren't really (but they are intended to aid in your celebrations). Am I the only person struck by the irony of all of those having been made in China?
Can it really be that Portland Opera's season opener La Traviata is less than three months away?
