I paid the latest credit card bill for one card twice, and for the other card, three times. Some weird mental blip related to online bill payment. Yeah, it’s been that kind of month. And absolutely no progress on the lending front yet. I started this process over a month ago with Wells Fargo, and since then it’s been slow, intermittent requests for more documentation - paycheck stub, another year’s W2 form, landlord information, utility bills. I wish they’d just tell me up front if I’ve been denied or not rather than drag it out interminably.

At least Don Pasquale on Friday was really, really good. Despite my initial sneering disavowal of the entire idea of opera buffa (which had no basis in reason, since I’m hardly familiar with the genre), I found myself enjoying all of the inanity and Donizetti’s music. It helped that a lot of self-parody was involved - from composer and librettist (with a couple of obvious digs at the typical Rossini heroines) to the projected captions (microscopic fonts were used during the patter duet between Don Pasquale and Malatesta, “La la la” was projected during another scene). The only blemish was the orchestra, which didn’t seem quite up to playing the fast bits or handling the tempo shifts - as usual, the fault appeared to lie with the brass section. Which was a great pity for the excellent singers.

The entire opera “experiment” is kind of weird. I’ve been blessed with an excellent classical music education, which gives me snobbing rights (however when I go to an extreme on this front, I only have to think about my Dad’s total snobbishness to bring myself back to a cold shuddering reality). But here’s the stunning admission: for the most part, I don’t actually enjoy live concerts of that genre. I have difficulty staying awake at symphony recitals. I nitpick during piano recitals, no matter who’s playing. God forbid that you forget an entire passage if I’m sitting in the audience, fellow student or not.

Partly this is a matter of technology. Living in the CD age, I’ve been spoiled by studio recordings which feature note perfect readings, and I’ve noticed that I get way too hung up that, as opposed to the emotion or expressiveness of a performance. One of my favourite pianists is Glenn Gould. It’s not a coincidence that Gould was a notorious studio artist who would not hesitate to use all electronic tools at his disposal to splice together bits and pieces from disparate recordings to produce the perfect album (in his defense, Gould was also an excellent live performer judging by the videotapes I’ve seen). Another well-liked pianist is Ashkenazy, who is a technically proficient, note dead-on pianist. I own nearly all his piano concerto recordings and consider them sacred. And yet I’ve seen reviews from his detractors, and words and phrases like “understated”, “knows only two dynamic levels” seem to figure prominently. On the other extreme is Sviatoslav Richter. I own a box set of his recordings (courtesy of Dad) and Lorraine was very enthusiastic about the expressive character of his playing. I on the other hand didn’t like his recordings that much, and I think it was because I’d notice Richter missing a note here and there, enough to disturb me from noticing the fine nuances of his playing.

This rambling is sort of leading up to the point that I can’t quite figure out why I’m enjoying the opera so much, even despite the performance blemishes that annoy me more than they should (although there was absolutely no excuse for the fuckwit in the audience whose cellphone rang six times during the overture). Perhaps the simple answer is that the spectacle element is what’s missing from watching the symphony, and I need that in order to listen effectively (read: stay awake). I generally enjoy chamber music recitals though, so that’s not quite it either; then again I’ve heard that chamber music puts off a lot of people who enjoy symphony going. Whatever. Seattle Opera sent the season renewal forms last week and I filled them out immediately. Wagner starts the season next year. I can’t wait.