Could attending the Metropolitan Opera be made a bit more pleasant?
Me! It’s all about me! Opera is full of narcissistic creatures with histrionic disorders, but is there anyone quite like young Werther?
Just like in Sochi, lines were long during the intermissions for “Prince Igor” at the Metropolitan Opera on Thursday, where the opera has not been seen since 1917. Bring sustenance and a flask.
In a picture-filled house in leafy Rye, a half-hour outside Manhattan, an attractive, very lively blonde in pumps, red jacket, black skirt and gold earrings begins to sing.
The Metropolitan Opera has a huge costume department. Can a brave soul bring a pair of scissors to the office of Peter Gelb, general manager?
“‘The Illusionist.’ First good movie I’ve seen in quite a while,” Bob e-mailed me on Dec. 22.
New York City’s Metropolitan Opera Association, the largest U.S. performing arts organization, plans to sell $100 million of taxable debt to end a swap agreement and repay loans from Bank of America Merrill Lynch.
Robert W. Wilson, the hedge-fund manager who lept to his death last month from his New York residence, gave his art collection to the Whitney Museum of American Art in Manhattan.
“Let’s just say, I think this is my time,” Anna Netrebko suggested after her performance in “Anna Bolena” at the Metropolitan Opera’s opening gala last night.
“This is a very old story of people searching to be loved,” says Nico Muhly about “Two Boys,” which opens at the Metropolitan Opera Oct. 21.