Sunday, the overstuffed versions of the newspaper, both coasts, were deposited on the stoop -- at two a.m. I was still poring over the listings with my highlighters -- films, theater, television, dance, art, architecture, video games (huh?), trying to figure out how to be in two places at once, and that doesn't even take into account the riches on offer in San Francisco, Chicago, Miami etc etc. Completely exhausted by the breadth and depth of all these talented people, and not a little jealous, it almost made me forget that we were on the eve of: choose the right answer, a)(important) b)(new) c)(information) d)none of the above, about the war.
This week's surge briefings are a kind of grand opera -- filled with Primo dons (the president) and sword carriers (General Petraeus), prompters (Ambassador Crocker) subterfuge (a non-report report), a chorus of yaysayers (Lyndsey Graham) and naysayers (not loud enough, but still, the Dems in Congress) with remarkable settings (a big White House, the killing fields of Iraq) and supernumeraries (our overtaxed troops) with tragic arias and falsettos both, plus a lengthy duration (how long? Well, it depends what your definition of "long" is).
In Modena, the death of the great populist king of tenors, Pavarotti, reminded that it's possible to be both grand and accessible, that whether speaking or singing to the people and giving them what they want doesn't necessarily mean any lessening of core values or talent or the ability to tell it like it is. (CBS re-ran the Mike Wallace interviews Sunday night though I remember DeWitt Sage's Pavarotti in China documentary as much more enlightening) Here in LA, Placido Domingo, one of the other members of the famous tenor triumvirate, dedicated a noble LA Opera Verdi Requiem to him on Sunday, capping a weekend of opening festivities including a digital age production of Fidelio (from Valencia) that, too, reached out to touch and attract new patrons to what used to be a fussy form and is now, courtesy of the Domingos and Peter Gelbs (newish Metropolitan Opera director) and the Glimmerglass (small but potent venue in upstate NY), a breeding ground for the cutting edge, right up there with other dynamic contemporary art forms.
In the same week, another genius-populist who hasn't compromised one iota, Esa Pekka Salonen (with the LA Philharmonic at the Hollywood Bowl) had invited a dance company Diavolo, to actually share his stage and his new work, Foreign Bodies, under the stars. Esa Pekka is still the most captivating, sensual, energetic conductor-composer on anyone's radar and he eclipsed the dancers even pushed way back from the proscenium. (The big screens that Pavarotti helped make ubiquitous allowed those munching on their picnics see the maestro pause, marshal his resources, and attack. General Petraeus could learn a lot from Esa Pekka). Diavolo director Jacques Heim invented an architectural set piece which morphed from a Frank Gehry-like Fred and Ginger tower to a Pei-like glass Pyramid at the Louvre (he said he had Calatrava and Noguchi in mind) in an attempt to work within the tiny confines of the space -- though the tumbling in and out of the windows and strike-a-pose choreography left this viewer emotion-free. But the ambition was palpable, and bravo to Salonen for continuing to share his stage, gracefully and generously, with dancers, filmmakers and artists. He is certainly not ready for retirement -- just other challenging pastures -- though Gustavo Dudamel, the conductor-elect, another brilliant hiring coup by the LA Phil, is awaiting in the wings and promises more whirling dervish displays of legerdemain. (Perhaps too much of this at the Surge hearings, not too little)
When my spirits had been utterly pummeled by the challenges of the Requiem, a time out for the US Open men's tennis final (though Roger Federer is definitely an artist and definitely someone to teach about stealth attack), I finally landed at a book party for Kristin Gore's new book Sammy's House. I asked all the powerful Democrats I saw why our side wasn't being more kick-ass persuasive in shutting the whole thing down. Nobody really had a good enough answer for me.
Who said the arts and artists weren't relevant to our times?