This week I received an email from a professional musician friend of mine in England. He had been away for a while and not been keeping up with this blog (can you imagine?). When he finally caught up he saw what I had written last week - and in the past - about Bryn Terfel and had some very interesting things to say. I will quote from his missive:

"From friends in the Royal Opera Orchestra, I already knew of the Terfel troubles. Sadly, watching and listening to him on Last Night of the Proms revealed real problems, of both nerve and technique. Sweating profusely, he struggled through Silent Noon and some folk songs, breathing every two notes as if suffering from a chronic lung condition, and was quite unable to sustain any sound after the first 'push'. It's not greed, but desperation - he has to retire from opera as he simply can't do it any more, and, probably because of having to maintain lifestyle, taxman, family and agent , has to bluff his way in the pop world where audiences are ignorant and uncritical - but HE KNOWS and is obviously traumatised. Having admired his Elijah and countless other things, I feel very sorry for him - too much too soon, and the pressure got to him. One would have thought he had the physique and stamina but I believe it's a genuine psychological crisis.( and the finger story just does not hold up) He needs to get off that treadmill and take a couple of years off. For someone like that it's a long way down".

I am left feeling very conflicted. On the one hand I am pleased to know that he isn't just being a divo. At the same time it is distressing to hear that he is in crisis mode. I think the only proper course for me now is to keep my thoughts to myself unless and until there is some official word on Terfel's situation and in the mean time to wish him nothing but the best. The man has - or had - a glorious voice and immense talent. If he has become a victim of the pressures to which modern singers are subject by the system within which they have no alternative other than to work then I feel very sorry for him and his family.

Terfel would not be the first singer of international renown to have been pushed over the edge of his capacity by the demands of his career. Only last year, tenor Rolando Villazon had to cancel a number of very prestigious engagements including his debut recital at Carnegie Hall and Roméo et Juliette at the Met citing "health problems". Villazon, whose wife is a psychologist, was pretty forthright about what went on and admitted to feeling burned out. "Being exhausted it was difficult to sing. I am very nervous when I go onstage and that's a wonderful struggle. But when it becomes fear it is horrible and I began to feel fear". He took a few months off and returned to great warmth and acclaim and a much slimmed-down performance schedule.

So perhaps Terfel just needs to give his body time to relax and heal. I certainly hope so. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have him back as Scarpia once again (see above)? Meanwhile I had better find a fruity valpolicella to match the large helping of crow I will probably find myself dining upon.

I went with Holly and Elizabeth to La Traviata on Saturday evening. I don't do reviews of Portland Opera performances here as this is my blog and not a corporate news letter. However, as the show has now closed I don't think there is any reason why I shouldn't tell you about my visit to the Keller. Before the show itself we went to hear Bob Kingston give one of his regular pre-performance talks. If you have never been then you really should. He is informative, fun and totally unintimidating. So instead of coming away thinking to oneself "Man, this opera stuff is hard!" one feels jazzed by having more information about what one is to see. Good stuff. And the talks are free; just go to the first balcony level at 6:30pm on the evening of the show. I shall be interested to hear what he has to saya about Beethoven's Fidelio which is next up and which is in my view one strange opera.

The performance itself was everything I was expecting having seen a couple of rehearsals. The three principals, Richard Zeller, Richard Troxell and Maria Kanyova were all in splendid voice. I have not seen Ms Konyova in any other production but I shall be looking out for her in future. Her voice is quite delicious and very much under control. She managed successfully to negotiate the extraordinary emotional and vocal range Act 1 requires and then just kept getting better. Act 2 is one of the most moving in all of opera. Violetta's meeting with Germont is three-Kleenex stuff. Richard Zeller brought a sense of humanity to the role of Alfredo's father which gave it a depth one doesn't often see. And this role fitted him like a glove. I don't think I have ever seen him better. One of the things I like so much about Richard Troxell's voice is that it is invariably in tune. That is not damning with faint praise. The tenor who is consistently pitch-perfect is a rare treasure. I always enjoy Troxell when he performs here. He makes me feel comfortable. I can sit back in my seat knowing that he will deliver the goods. And that is just what he did on Saturday evening.

Robert Ainsley has given the chorus a sheen and power which for me has become one of the hallmarks of a Portland Opera production. And the orchestra, which seems to have improved a good deal over the last couple of years, responded well to Stephen Lord's reading of the piece. The production? Meh. I can't say I am a big fan of that look but that is very subjective of course.

All in all we had a very good evening. As I stood in line for the mens' restroom during the second intermission I asked the man in front of me what he thought of the show. I find this is a good way to get an honest and unvarnished opinion. At that point in the evening people are asking themselves that very question and will tell you precisely what is in their mind. This particular chap said he has been coming to Portland Opera for three years and this was the best production he has seen but that he thought he had seen a general improvement in the quality of what he was watching. Not much to argue with there.

One of the reasons I am so happy to have seen the portland Opera production of La Traviata is that I missed it at Zurich Railway Station when it showed there a couple of weeks ago. It did. Really. You don't believe me? Go here! Those Swiss are a real hoot, huh?

I am off to the shower now. I think I'll entertain myself with a rendition of Ah, Mes Amis! That's the aria from La Fille du Régiment with the nine high C's. Actually, in my case they are nine notes of variable and sometimes indeterminate pitch. That will not prevent me acknowledging the rapturous applause from the huge audience who while they won't fit into my bathroom have plenty of room in my imagination. I may take an encore. We'll see how it goes.

Have a great week.