Monday, January 29, 2024

Turandot

 

Ah, memories!


Twenty years … how fast that goes by. Twenty years ago the Mrs. and I were newlyweds. We rented in an affluent town a spacious apartment for half the mortgage I pay now. We had good friends, good jobs (despite a little bit of rockiness in my world commuting in and out of NYC), but most of all, we had MONEY! Why? Well, a Republican was in the White House, so the economy was doing well, which really helps with the quantity of my wife’s bonuses, but the real reason is, aside from not being hitched to a money pit – er, house – we were still childless.


I had two really good friends at this point (one sadly has since passed away), and I did a lot of things with them, and with all our spouses. I wasn’t the avid reader I am today believe it or not. My buddies and I would work out together, hike, go sailing off the Jersey shore, go to sports bars, pool parties, the whole works. We’d take the wives out to dinner with no thought of how much $ was in the bank account. It was a fun and happy time I suppose every couple goes through before they start chasing that ever-elusive, ever-expensive and ever-burdensome American Dream.


The one thing I did as a solo hobby before reading was investigate music. During my decade-long stint as an ultimately unsuccessful musician I had acquired a 200-CD collection up until 1998 or so, when I realized I was completely bored with the state of current rock music. Nothing satisfied me. The last two bands I was into back then, the Screaming Trees and the Presidents of the United States of America, I pretty much enjoyed, but could find nothing – literally nothing – to follow them up with.


After a few months I realized that it might be a neat idea to explore classical music. Take a clean break from hard rock / heavy metal / grunge / etc. and just listen to Bach, Beethoven, Mozart et. al. In 1992 I had bought a six-pack of CDs from those three composers, listened to the music a few times, then stored them away. A few Christmases later Santa gifted me a ten-pack CD of classical compositions. I did the same with them. Then, in April of 1998, I pulled them all out and began listening with attention.


I discovered my local library had a couple hundred classical CDs available to borrow. This really fueled my obsession. That first year I borrowed 29 CDs sampling a wide range of composers and styles. I bought 24 CDs of the ones I enjoyed the most. A dozen years later I had a collection of a 105 classical music CDs, two-thirds of which were purchased within those first five years.


Why all this?


Well, because it’s kinda happening again. This time with records. I’m now up to 33 records, thanks to a discovery I made yesterday.


Indulge me a little more background. Twenty years ago I spent some time investigating opera. It didn’t really stick, but I do have my prejudices. I am not a Verdi aficionado, though both operas I’ve seen at Lincoln Center were Verdis. I much prefer Wagner. The gold standard for my record collecting (which is very much like antiquing, as you’ll see in a moment), is to score all four operas in Wagner’s “ring cycle.” Aside from that, though, I enjoy Puccini, but the Puccini I enjoy most is Turandot.


My youngest bought me a Brahms and a Tchaikovsky album for Christmas, so it’s been over a month since I’ve had a new record to listen to. Yesterday she and the Mrs. decided to head out to a trendy, artsy little town down here in Texas about 45 minutes away. This town also had that neat record store which sold classical music albums for a quarter. I jumped at the opportunity.


But to my frustration and annoyance that record store let their stock of classics dwindle without resupply. All that was left from four long rows of plastic wrapped used albums was about a dozen musty, yellowed (and probably warped) bottom of the barrel compositions. Ugh. What a letdown.


So I tagged along with the ladies as they browsed and window-shopped. Patch wanted to find some antique backing for a shelf in her room where she’s collecting vintage dolls. We hit a place my oldest, Little One, recommended, and what do you know? Hidden between all the faded woodworked furniture and rusty gadgets and old plates and glasses and Life magazines from the 50s was – a nook filled with old records! True, most were Country, Western, and Country-Western, but there was some rock – a half-dozen Johnny Winter records – and … classical! The music gods nodded and a Turandot leaped off the shelf into my arms.


The price was a little steep for me for philosophical reasons – $16.34 with tax – but the complete opera was a three-record set. It’s a version of Turandot I’m not familiar with, being conducted by Erich Leinsdorf with Birgit Nilsson in the lead role (I’m used to the Pavarotti version). And the cover art is … well … we can avoid talking about the cover art. The record was pressed in 1960.

 


 

 So I am very well pleased. This should keep me satisfied for another month or so. I have threatened the family with a Listening Party tonight and tomorrow night, 8 to 9 pm sharp. They have humored me with enthusiasm about attending, but I’m a thousand percent sure this will be a solo experience. Which is fine, because the music is phenomenal, and I am looking forward to a sublime listen.


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