Tag Archive Marcy Stonikas

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Marcy Stonikas in Recital at Seattle Opera is a Snack

Coming from the extremely privileged position of someone who has only ever been exposed to opera through live performances of full productions by one of the country’s top opera companies in one of the world’s best acoustically-engineered opera houses, I’m surprised by how much I’ve been enjoying the virtual fall opera season. I’m getting new perspectives on the music and the performers. And it’s no substitute for dressing up and going out, but there is a certain pleasure to be had in experiencing opera curled up on the couch in your PJs with a cocktail in hand. I most recently enjoyed that experience with Seattle Opera’s release of Marcy Stonikas in Recital.

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Aida at Seattle Opera

Alexandra LoBianco (Aida) and David Pomeroy (Radamès). Jacob Lucas photo

Alexandra LoBianco (Aida) and David Pomeroy (Radamès). Jacob Lucas photo c/o Seattle Opera

Even if you’re not into opera, you’ve heard of Aida. It’s one of the iconic operas like Carmen and Madame Butterfly. I am into opera, and I love Verdi, but the current production at Seattle Opera was my first experience of Aida.

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Ticket Season – Part One, Seattle Opera

“I love tickets!” squeals Cameron Diaz’s character in the first Charlie’s Angels movie. (And why has no one ever made a gif of that?) It’s supposed to illustrate what an eccentric character she is, but I understand completely. I love tickets. And spring is ticket season. Season-ticket season, to be precise. All of the arts organizations announce their upcoming seasons, tickets go on sale, and I spend hours each spring planning what I will be doing on Saturday nights all next winter. Case in point: Seattle Opera.

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Get Your Papers Together to See Seattle Opera’s The Consul

consul bookletA modern, English-language opera about a woman fighting bureaucracy sounded like a painfully tedious proposition – too much like my real life. But I attended The Consul at Seattle Opera because I have season tickets.

A bleeding man bursts into a decaying apartment, forgetting to shut the door. Knocking over furniture, he falls to the floor, calling his wife. She rushes into the kitchen, trailed by his mother. The secret police discovered their meeting place; one of their friends is dead. He has been followed. John Sorel drags himself up the fire escape while his wife washes his bloody hand print from the door frame seconds before men in trench coats enter without knocking. Read More