Snowbound blast from the past: Lensky's aria from Tchaikovsky's 'Eugene Onegin'
Are we having fun yet?
As if the blizzard weren't bad enough, our home computer died over night, leaving Robert and I feeling so last century. Our kindly nextdoor neighbor took pity on us and just leant us a laptop so I can try blogging a bit and Robert can catch up his real estate biz (thanks, Peter!).
I had planned on doing some profound analysis of Baltimore's musical future on the blog this weekend, but that will have to wait; I'm too worn out from shoveling a pathway and brushing off piles of snow on fragile shrubs and trees. So I'm just going for the easy way out and try posting a bit of snow-related music that also happens to provide a remarkable demonstration of refined, eloquent singing.
This is the great tenor aria from Tchaikovsky's "Eugene Onegin" when Lensky, having rashly challenged his former best friend Onegin to a duel, contemplates
his fate before the fatal contest begins. This winter scene seems doubly fitting right now, as I look out at a ton of snow and who knows how many challenges to come. (I've had a soft spot for this scene ever since the first time I saw "Onegin" on the stage, a Bolshoi production that, in its unashamedly literal way, offered such a realistic-looking depiction of a snowfall that you would have sworn the real stuff was descending from the sky.)
Somehow, hearing a poor guy sing about his storm-tossed life on a bleak field seems terribly fitting as Baltimore lies buried by the wintry elements. But I'm sure you won't find yourself depressed by this scene, so much as moved by the quality of the performance from the old days by Sergei Lemeshev. He may be on the indulgent side interpretively, as some contend, but, man, what golden tones, what melting phrases. And melting is what I could use right about now: