Opera in musica

 "Pretentiousness is the mask of worthlessness and weakness." - Rafael Sabitini

It occurs to me that the thing you will all have missed most due to my my erratic posting schedule is my self-appointed role as the leading opera reviewer among wargaming bloggers. I've seen nine so far in 2024, six of them new to me, and so I'm afraid I can't be terribly comprehensive in my catch-up. Instead I'll briefly cover a couple of highlights.

The best of those I've been to, I would say, was the Hallé's concert performance of the original 1857 version of Simon Boccanegra at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester, which was sensational and got both a standing ovation and rave reviews. I can't tell you how it compares to the revised 1881 version because I've never seen that, although Opera North are doing it in April 2025 and so readers can confidently expect me to post about that this time next year (*). I shall be particularly interested to know if the plot is any more understandable because this one was impenetrable. The most confusing moment came at the end of the first half when, the lady known as Amelia Grimaldi - who, spoiler alert, turns out to be someone else completely - comes on and tells us that she has, offstage of course, been kidnapped and then managed to get away. At this all the other characters, including those whom we know perfectly well both planned and carried out the deed, start singing "Death to Lorenzo". So far so operatic, except that to that point there had been no mention at all of any Lorenzo; nor, yet another spoiler alert, did he turn up in the second half. As opera critic Robert Thicknesse observed, it is "one of those libretti that heroically rises above explaining anything at all".

It was also at the end of the first half that the most memorable thing in Stravinsky's Rake's Progress occurred. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the music, singing and acting or, to a lesser extent, the direction and design. It was just that the sight of the bearded lady sitting on a large horse with a cardboard box on her head - you can perhaps see why I had my reservations about what was going on in front of me - wondering why there was neither applause nor someone coming to help her down, was very funny. The reason was that the curtain had malfunctioned, the audience therefore had no clue that the act had finished (**) and it took some minutes before those behind the scenes came up with a plan to put us all out of our collective difficulty.

Other highlights included the first performance I had ever heard sung in Russian: Rachmaninov's Aleko set in a hippy commune and also featuring surprise appearances from some characters who had earlier that evening appeared in Mascagni's cavalleria rusticana, only visible to some on stage. Think Banquo's ghost. It was odd, but it worked. Also worth mentioning was Rossini's scala di seta where the silken ladder was represented by a more solid ladder let down into the pit. It was no shock to see the tenor climbing up it, more so to see the conductor do the same when joining the principals to take his bow.

* If the Lord spares me, and if I can be arsed.

** Beyond the fact that the orchestra had stopped playing; it's a good job they weren't on the Titanic.

Wellington Triumphs Somewhere Or Other

 The Peninsular campaign hasn't been getting a lot of love in the blog recently, or indeed from your bloggist if truth be told. However, we have been plugging away by playing a game that's lasted a full four weeks, the longest that I can remember happening in the legendary wargames room of James 'Olicanalad' Roach, and I've probably been playing there for close to twenty years(*). In the interests of complete disclosure I have to say that week two of the game was dreadful, at least from the point of view of my colleague Mr Jackson and myself, because we never got to do anything. But, in the finest traditions of the band on the Titanic we played on and, if I may mix my metaphors for a moment, we rose from the dead like one of those gay vampires that Ulysses S. Grant's great-great-grandson writes about. The final two evenings were highly enjoyable, with plenty of to and fro plus the good guys won in the end. What more could one want?

Well, fewer casualties probably. I still don't understand how the campaign loss system (ⓒ J.Roach) works, but the fact that the tray is overflowing is unlikely to be a good sign.

* Refights of Sidi Rezegh always felt like they had lasted for a month, but that's not the same thing.

Or else my sword...

"Or else my sword with an unbattered edge

  I sheath again undeeded"

                   - Macduff

And so to the opera. I have been to see Verdi's Macbeth. I may well say this every time I see the opera or the play, but that Lady Macbeth is definitely a wrong 'un. The singer playing her made the most of this and stomped around the stage like the villainess in a silent film, emoting wildly and upstaging her sap of a husband behind his back while he sang. I don't know whether it was that which unnerved him, but towards the end, when he is about to get his comeuppance, he accidentally let go of his sword while Macduff was telling him all about his being untimely ripped. The blade flew across the stage and into the pit where had it not been made of cardboard wrapped in tinfoil it would have decapitated the timpani player. I am pleased to report that, just like the band on the Titanic, the orchestra played on.

Life is like a skating rink

"Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking towards me without hurrying." 

- Jean Cocteau

And so to the cinema. I have been to see "Le Tout Nouveau Testament", a surreal and inventive riff on the question of why, if there is a God, there are so many bad things in the world. In this film it's because the almighty is a misanthropic bully who lives in Brussels and spends his days inventing universal rules that make the life of mankind less than optimal. The one that struck the biggest chord with me was number 1522, but they were all recognisable to the audience. His daughter, with a bit of assistance from her brother (you know the chap - it's his birthday soon), rebels and tells everyone the date of their death. Hilarity ensues. No actually it does; the film is very funny.

It's a constantly creative delight featuring Catherine Deneuve, a gorilla, Munchausen syndrome by proxy, a murmuration of starlings and a whole lot of washing machines amongst many other oddities. One character, upon discovering exactly how long he has left alive, decides to spend it making a model of the Titanic out of matchsticks; an idea that is possibly a bit close to home for some of us. The film provokes thought rather than directing in which direction those thoughts should go and I don't think it's disrespectful to religious beliefs. The question of why God lets bad things happen has been asked before; believers must surely have their answer ready by now. It's a sweet and very moral film - for those of us who don't find sex immoral - and, if you don't find it entertaining then I wouldn't bother going to the cinema ever again if I was you.

It also feeds my love of synchronicity by in large part being about whether one would live one's life the same way if one knew how it would develop, the same theme as Arrival, which in other ways could not be a more different film. There is a minor plot point revolving around Proust's 'À la recherche du temps perdu' - a reference to which appeared here less than a fortnight ago - but this time mixed in with a splash of Officer Crabtree.

Oh, and don't leave before the end of the credits.

Law 1522: If one day you fall in love with a woman there's a great chance you will not spend your life with her.

Nearer My God To Thee

"It is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness." - Eleanor Roosevelt

The last boardgames of the month have been packed away into the box, eighteen different ones in total. In an (almost) exciting development the last of them hit the table in the dark as an extended power cut blacked out Otley. I am pleased to report that, in the finest tradition of the orchestra on the Titanic, we played on. Our only reaction was to switch to Werewolves, officially because it better suited the gloomy ambiance, but I suspect in reality because, as with at least one of my other hobbies, one's standards inevitably slip when the lights go out.

On with the games:

Boom: Runaway: Odd though enjoyable game about smuggling bombs out of the arsenal before they can be used. It's strangely difficult to explain its rules despite them actually being rather simple.

Codenames: A surprisingly fun game even when the spymaster on your team is crap. Do you hear me? Crap!

Condottiere: I finally found someone who doesn't like this game. However, for any wargamers reading the blog by mistake and who don't know Condottierre, you need to check it out.

CS Files: Or possibly really called Deception: Murder in Hong Kong. A new variant on the deduction/hidden identity shtick although I enjoyed this one. It's a bit random, and the majority side always seems to win, but it doesn't out-stay its welcome. There are some imaginative possible murder weapons, although the old Cluedo favourites also make an appearance.

Elysium: I won this by such a distance that I can't help thinking that I may have been doing something wrong. It's a good game (interesting and innovative mechanics, sufficient player interaction, nice length) that I'd like to play more often, but which has suffered from the constant temptation to play shiny, new games.

Good Cop Bad Cop: Possibly my favourite of its type. I think it's because the roles can change, although having said that the same concept doesn't help Werewolf much.

Hau La: A three dimensional plant building game (as in flowering plants), the best strategy for which is a complete mystery to me. Completely different to anything else and enjoyable.

Lifeboat: This is a nice card game with bluffing, secret objectives and - happily - plenty of duffing up one's fellow players. I liked it, although that's maybe because I armed myself with a flare gun early on and challenged the others to try it if they were hard enough.

Lords of Waterdeep: A very good worker placement game with a notoriously thinly applied theme. One of the players this time round tried to re-introduce the theme by referring to warriors, wizards etc rather than orange, black etc. He got laughed at.

Mission: Red Planet: I'm not sure whether this is a new game or not. It's a steampunk type space exploration effort with little astronauts yomping around Mars and Phobos. It's rather like Libertalia with a very limited number (ten to be precise) of card plays made during the game. I picked up my cards too often; I should have been bolder.

One Night Ultimate Werewolf: At least we didn't play with the Insomniac.

Operation F.A.U.S.T.: Coup meets any number of set collection games. A bit ho hum.

Power Grid: The Stock Companies: It all bears no relation to the real stock market; as someone pointed out this is entirely about insider dealing. On the other hand the base game is not much like how real power grids are built either. The base game is better.

Red7: Cracking card filler; highly luck dependent, but enough decisions to make one feel one is doing something skillful.

Sail to India: This is a very good game, and certainly a complete snip at the half price that Travelling Man were recently selling it at. It's better with four players.

 Skull: A fine, fine game.

Survive: Escape from Atlantis!: I've loved this game for years. It has to be played really viciously.

Tiny Epic Galaxies: This is a good game, all the better for the rules being explained properly this time round, albeit by someone who was playing in our first inept attempt at teaching ourselves. My own performance on this occasion was truly, truly dreadful.

Wot? No Quartermaster General?