Do we need the Met Costume Institute Gala-all those rich celebrities, performers etc dressed to ‘the nines’? Haven’t I asked this ratorical [sic] question before? Good question rat, don’t be bashful. Not just aspiration out the rodent ghetto. The money raised by selling Gala tables [$31 million this year] all goes to saving/acquiring Met Museum couture over the centuries. Sure, more than a tad-pole aristocratic, elite almost distasteful if one can’t afford eggs. Or pet food! Or live in a polluted pond.
Surely the question rather is: why must revolutionary humans always feel the need to destroy in order for change? Don Fabrizio the protagonist of Leopardi’s great novel Il Gattopardo feels the winds of worrying of nephew Prince Tancredi whilst understanding him. Hard to imagine pre-Bolshevik aristocracy any different: not everyone was evil, bloodsucking, serf-loathing. Years ago at Christie’s NYC there was a sale of Russian Royal Family correspondence that rather made one weep: she was a poet, an artist, a creator, a dancer. A Gentleman in Moscow.
Of course, the red carpet [this year eco-friendly blue] couture tailoring of The Met Gala always exquisite. What this year’s Superfine: Tailoring Black Style elicited though was quite a departure from recent years. Stripped back-no not Kanye’s ‘you know who’:) Maybe not so silly after all! Nicole Kidman related in an interview asking of Anna Wintour ‘what to wear’: something tailored for you. This really is when great couture starts singing bel canto. And last night all the great designers laid bare why they should be considered in that league. Or is it Mozart pranks ‘n’ all? Couldn’t help thinking that when arrivals live-stream cut to the celeb waiting line, it did resemble a Harmony Korine Mr. Lonely Met Gala audition line:) Then magic blossoms as cameras snap.
Mezzo Susan Graham wore Armani [director Jonathan Miller asked his old pal, as you do, when you’ve no more budget for costumes] in a 1990’s Royal Opera House Covent Garden production of Mozart’s Così fan tutte. Now, readily she’ll admit being no sylph but ‘oh me of my oh’ didn’t she look magnificently seductive in Armani’s pant suit.
For an expert view [‘roast’] of Met Gala fashion, the always reliable HauteLeMode [his first two vids have dropped]. Poor James Corden got the ‘raspberry’ for his black Hugo Boss suit. Don’t mind them James, you’ve got a comfy Boss that’ll last forever and when you unearth it for the BAFTA’s or ‘summat’ they’ll call you the best dressed cat of the evening. They won’t remember- oops, famous last words:)
The untold story of ‘wrong side of the tracks’ steel-string guitarist Augustin Barrios who finally sent the great Segovia on his way home. Meow!
Sometimes all’s needed: a teeny, tiny broomstick to help believe in oneself.
And if you can’t make it to Broadway, or this may make you, here’s pre-Tony Awards Tiny Desk:
Perfect for entire casts of the ant/flea Bolshevik musical. Ratskolnikov a’ workin’ on it!
Whilst on the subject of belief and tiny spaces, opera director Pierre Audi unexpectedly died this week of a heart attack. It was sad when he left the Almeida Theater created by him from a derelict London building owned by the Salvation Army from 1885 to the 1950s. I only caught the last quarter of his work there. So many revelations, a conversation with Robert Wilson into the early hours of the morning: wish I’d kept the paper tablecloth with all the doodling. A summer contemporary classical music festival unrivaled in London at that time. Alas, it was no more with the theater’s new stewardship. Pierre was ever curious and forever seeking artists who challenged convention to make one’s mind soar. In all honesty, Pierre preferred the facilitator, collaborator, incubator, innovator role. His natural ego ever tempted to direct and then it was nothing less than Pierre: modest, minimalist totally without dirigent ego. People with Pierre’s vision, patience, passion, persistence and kindness too rare in this world. An endangered species.
[just remembered after all these decades- I pitched a Bernard-Marie Koltès play/production to Pierre at the Almeida and he totally wanted to depart on that after 10 years. Can’t remember what never happened. But belief! Literally, just recalled this….]
Natasha Lyonne! Do you give lessons in ‘bad asss’ ? KITTY the youngster ‘kit’ would hurl her food bowl across the room! ANDREW would simply say: OK, what’s up? I get hated simply being quiet or something or thinking?! I never even splashed water in another’s face in the pool or hot-tub hailing Oh Mensch! Where do I sign up for life lessons dear Ms N.L.? Stallone’s rates look very attractive:)! And he shadow-boxed with Pope Francis!
Poker Face [S2] [hopefully not forgotten their Columbo heritage/blessing!] The retirement home S1 ep seemed all too real!
In no particular order, KITTY and ANDREW’s BAD ASS MOMMA DAY MOVIE MARATHON:
Fargo [1996]
The Long Kiss Goodnight [1996]
Maquia: Where the Promised Flower Blooms [2018]
The Grifters (1990)
The Little Foxes (1941)
White Heat (1949)
One of the bravest, boldest musicals ever on Broadway
