White Shirt Monday: Black and White
[Going out in style: the proper White Shirt will die with their proverbial - or, as in this case, actual - boots on. Patrizia Ciofi (Amenaide) and Hadar Halévy (Tancredi) in Rossini's "Tancredi", Deutsche Oper Berlin 2011. - Photo Credit: Bettina Stöß.]
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This week, I know exactly what the original Xena eposide is called!
In fact, various spring to mind, to me it’s a tie between Friend in Need, pt. 2 (which I still can’t rewatch, not even in the Director’s Cut) and – perhaps a better call, just for the lightning choices – Looking Death In The Eye.
(there are three more possibilities, of course, but I will leave those for the hardcore Xenites in the comments)
It’s too bad that Tancredi happened to late in time to make for an episode, but with all the time-traveling, this one could have been another retold myth with more queer vibes than you could shake a stick at.
What strikes me about Rossini’s “Tacredi”, time and again, is not just how the lead mezzo is granted so much bravado and swagger, but also – as exemplified above – it’s display of just how much weight the right soprano companion has in making the mezzo in question look oh-so-very White Shirt. Amenaide might just be the most femme part of the entire belcanto repertory that way. And I can’t decide whether I enjoy Patrizia Ciofi or Maria Bayo more in the role. Both of them could make a tree trunk (even a dead one) look all dashing and heroic if they glanced at it the right way.
I say that’s rather racy for a Monday evening ! Aagghh boots! ( think homer Simpson when he sees a donut) 😜
I’ve never seen Homer Simpson seeing a donut – now I don’t need to !
and they look and sound even more gorgeous in motion than static!
thanks for hte link, Dr. T., I had completely missed that – mmhm, Ciofi!!
also, I will no never be able to look at another donut without thinking of mezzos in boots. Oh well. More donuts for me, then.
You know me, I’m not a big fan of “the fat lady that won’t die”, but this post alone could turn me easily into a … opera fan. Cheers!
Sing! I mean “sing” and not “die”!!! Gosh, I wonder what that says about me? Too much Xena?
is there such a thing as “too much Xena”?
I think it’s the proverbial Fat Lady who doesn’t stop singing even when she is dying… which reminds me of pregnant Xena in Lyre, Lyre, Hearts on Fire, although nobody died in that one.