You Endured the Opera, NOW Wear the Dress

The San Francisco Opera House is exactly the same, same coffered ceiling, same sweeping balconies, but the music isn’t. I’ve been invited to sit through 3-1/2 hours of Dr. Atomic, the new opera about Robert Oppenheimer and the first atomic bomb test. ... You made it through Parsifal, Peterman, I keep reminding myself. Then I notice her next to me. She’s leaning forward intently. ... After the bomb goes off and the lights come up, she cries “Bravo!” and flashes me a brilliant smile. “Wasn’t that wonderful?” she asks. The sight of her in this dress is almost enough to persuade me to give Schönberg a second chance.ARRRRRRRGH CAN WE PLEASE NOT USE SCHOENBERG AS THE STRAW MAN EVERY SINGLE EFFING TIME WE WANT TO MAKE A POINT ABOUT er sorry I mean ohhh, Mr. Peterman, you're incorrigible! Of course, when I think of operas and little black dresses, I'm not thinking Atomic, I'm thinking Ariadne, but that anecdote might be a tougher sell. Still, I guess I shouldn't complain. Maybe a few more J. Petermans (J.'s Peterman? J. Petermen? What's the plural) can help us to give new music its much-deserved aura of glamor, like how Mary-Kate did for the Met Gala. Wait, what?
Labels: Adams, J. Peterman, Olsen Twins
1 Comments:
Very nice
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