#puccini without excuses

[lessthansix]

In 1876, La Scala audiences flocked to see Amilcare Ponchielli's ‘La Gioconda,’ which remained in the repertory. ‘Gioconda’ was adapted from a play by the Frenchman Victor Hugo. On the surface, Ponchielli's opera had many of the traits of French Grand Opéra: nobles of yore committing murder to preserve honor, religious pageantry, a full ballet in the middle of the proceedings. Yet ‘Gioconda’ had an immediacy (some would call it vulgarity) that was a break from previous tradition. The tenor sings one of the most gorgeous arias in the repertory and then blows up an entire ship. When the title character decides to commit suicide, she does not sing of lofty abstract concepts, but walks to the front center of the stage and cries “Suicidio!” at the top of her lungs. The much derided libretto was a miracle of incisive words and phrases that jumped out at the audience, even beyond the classic “Suicidio!” (Best line:“I love him like a lion loves blood!” The final line is another classic of Italian opera: “And furthermore, I killed your mother!”) In fact, there seem to be more exclamation points in the libretto of ‘Gioconda’ than in all other libretti combined.

William Berger, Puccini Without Excuses

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

so uh. William Berger (of Verdi with a Vengeance, Wagner Without Fear, and Puccini Without Excuses fame) is now following me on Instagram

[memzhay]

I know we got our Enchanted Tiki mug but please tell me that he enchanted a silly skull mug. I just want to believe he has a collection of enchanted mugs after Tiki.

Well, I’m not sure how silly she is, but…

1300 words of silliness obscured by a magical spell. Click below and the story shall materialize before your very eyes. Oooooo! Magic! (whispered theatrically) Special guest appearance by @theredquilt.

Link was deep inside the catacombs under the castle searching for a crate of astrolabes he knew was around here somewhere when he heard a noise. A voice?

He wasn’t especially alarmed by this. The catacombs snaked their way through the countryside for miles, and there had been a time or two when a child from the neighboring village had wondered in looking for adventure and got a bit more than they bargained for. Plus, there were portions of the tunnels that were built entirely in other universes. For tax purposes and for quick access to their favorite restaurants. So, it really could be anything.

He proceeded cautiously holding his torch in front of him, following the faint sound. He thought he had diffused the last of Rhett’s booby traps years ago, but one never could be too careful. He thought he was getting closer and started to be able to make out words. It sounded like the rough voice of an old woman.

“…world turned to ash and ruin. Blood and Fire! Fire and Pain! Pain and Suffering Eternal!!”

Link took two forks to the left and another to the right before nearly tripping over a crate with a big picture of an astrolabe on top.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, stooping down to retrieve it. As soon as he picked it up, a voice rang out from inside. “Blood and Fire!! Blood and Fire!!”

“ACK!” Link yelped, dropping the box.

“Careful, you dundering fool. I’m fragile!” came a reproachful voice from inside the crate.

“M-my apologies,” Link stammered politely. He crept forward, carefully removed the lid of the crate, and peered timidly inside.

Inside was a pile of astrolabes, as he expected, and placed on top in a black velvet-lined box, was a tall silver chalice. The bowl of the chalice was incased in what appeared to be an actual human skull with the top cut off. The skull was intricately carved in a myriad of runes and symbols. Some of which Link recognized, many of which he did not. The dark eye sockets, the teeth, and the top edge of the skull were lined with silver. It was very beautiful, well if you are into that sort of thing. Kind of macabre really. Not something that just goes with any décor.

“Hello?” he said into the box.

“The world will burn to ash, if the vine is not properly tended,” the chalice warned. It didn’t move at all. That at least was a relief. The voice issued, quite loudly, from the inside. “For there is no heart more capable of great evil, than one that has lost great love.”

“Well, that sounds quite serious,” Link said calmly. A prophesying skull chalice. That is something you don’t see every day, Link considered. Even around here. Now that he saw that the source of the voice was inanimate, and didn’t seem intent on harming him, he relaxed a bit.

“There will be blood!” the chalice insisted. “Blood and Fire! Fire and Pain!!”

“Yep. Got that. Let’s get you upstairs, and you can tell us all about it,” he said kindly, picking up the crate. “I’m Link, by the way.”

“I am Bav Neva,” the chalice answered with remarkable gravitas. “Oracle of the Sacred Grove of Improbability. Sorceress. Prophetess. Seer of Ultimate Mystery. I have been sent here by the Guardians of all Antiquity. Guided by arcane and powerful magics to the one wizard that may be able to avert the calamity. That’s you then, is it?”

“’Fraid not. I’m no wizard,” Link assured her. “But you’ve definitely come to the right place. Rhett is a great and powerful wizard-"

“Rhett?!? Oh, not Wizard Rhett? Insanely tall drunken oaf, Rhett? Big bushy beard? Narcissistic personality disorder?” the chalice enquired chagrined.

“Well, I’d hardly call him narcissistic,” Link said defensively. “Self-assured, perhaps.”

“Oh bollocks!” Bav Neva huffed. “We’re doomed.”

Link left the crate of astrolabes in the library and carried Bav Neva to their bedroom where Rhett was curled up taking a nap beneath his favorite blanket, the red quilt.

“Rhett,” Link called gently from the doorway. “There’s an old friend here to see you.”

Rhett stretched and yawned dramatically. Link thought he looked beautiful, all warm and snuggly. If there weren’t the end of the world, or something to contend with, he would like nothing better than to dive beneath that blanket and have a nice long cuddle. And then maybe…

“When time itself has been stolen, the thief must pay with interest! If not, there will be Blood and Fire!!” the chalice shouted.

“Bav Neva?” Rhett said incredulously. “Is that you? I’d know that harpy-like screech of yours anywhere.”

Bav Neva sighed. “Yes, you buffoonish excuse for a two-bit carnival magician. It’s me.”

“Well, it’s been centuries!” Rhett said affably, taking no offense. “Last time I saw you, you were in Istanbul, or Constantinople I suppose, and quite alive if my memory serves me correctly. You look… like you’ve lost weight?”

“I should have dismembered you centuries ago and given your disgraceful guts over to the beasts of the Earth,” Bav Neva said testily.

“Well, bad luck, eh?” Rhett said with amusement. “Link my love, be a dear and put her in with Tiki. We’ll sort it all out presently.”

“But Rhett,” Link objected. “It sounds like there are worlds hanging in the balance. Could be important.”

“Heed me, you swine! I am the Oracle of the Sacred Grove of Improbability. Slayer of Mrizagul, the Unending Serpent. Prophetess of-"

“Listen Bavs,” Rhett said condescendingly. “You can’t just barge in on a man when he is having snuggle time with his blankie spouting doom and gloom about the end of the world or whatnot and expect him to just jump when you snap your fingers, or lack thereof.”

“Blood and Fire!” she shouted. “Blood and Fire!!”

“Put her on the bar,” Rhett instructed, waiving his hand dismissively. “And you better bring me back some kisses,” he added, managing to strike a balance of seductive and pouty that he knew Link found adorable. He rolled around playfully on the bed, gathering the red quilt in his arms and squeezing it invitingly, rubbing his face on it and looking at Link like he would like to do a good deal more to him.

Link gave him a sultry wink and turned for the door, making sure to give his hips some extra sway as he walked out of the room and across the hall to the study.

“Friend for you, Tiki,” Link said happily as he walked into Rhett’s study and over to the Tiki bar.

“Well, hello Gorgeous!” Tiki said in flirty welcome. “What’s a classy, elegant lady such as yourself doing in a tourist trap like this?”

“Link,” Bav Neva pleaded, ignoring the amorous mug, “You must get him to listen to me. Lives are at stake. Entire civilizations could be lost.”

“We’ll be with you shortly,” Link said soothingly. “I promise. No more than 30 minutes or so.”

“Tell Tiki to sing some Puccini!” Rhett bellowed from across the hall.

“Maybe more like an hour,” Link amended. “You got that Tiki?”

“Sure thing boss,” Tiki said happily. “Yahtzee later?”

“Sounds fun!” Link agreed. “Unless the world is ending like super-imminently.

“We’ll call it a maybe,” Tiki allowed. Link gave him a double thumbs up and skipped out of the room.

“He lets me roll the dice,” Tiki explained to Bav Neva. “Makes me feel important. So, end of the world, huh? That sounds… well, bad.”

“The Earth shall cleave itself in twain and all the fruit shall turn to poison. There will be Horror Unimaginable!”

“Tiki!” Rhett yelled. “Do your job!”

“Sorry, doll. Tell me later, yeah?” Tiki offered apologetically. He took a deep breath (very deep for someone without lungs) and belted out his best Pavarotti impression.

Nessun dorma, nessun dorma Tu pure, o, Principessa Nella tua fredda stanza Guardi le stelle che tremano D'amore e di Speranza

The Shakespearean cats would be showing up soon. Hope this whole end-of-everything thing isn’t too dire. They’re going to be a while.

[beyond-the-mirror]

Music of the Night

The long wait is finally over!

Just another V x fem!reader I decided to start. This story takes place in an AU where almost everything is the same except for a few details, which include the fact that V is basically the Phantom of the Opera of this universe.

Tagging @thedyingmoon and @minteyeddemon, I remember how excited you both were when I shared this concept, it’s a bit long but I hope you all enjoy it!

Without further ado, let’s start!

---------

Chapter 1: Hauntings

The imposing building stood before you, intimidating you and stealing your breath for a few moments.

“Calm down (Y/N). You got this, you got this.” You cheered to yourself to shake your nerves away, closing your eyes taking and deep breath before exhaling. Opening your eyes once more, you crossed the grand entrance with renewed determination.

This was it. This was the day you were finally able to achieve your live long dream: Performing at Fortuna’s Opera House.

Once inside the building, a receptionist signaled you to the backstage entrance, kindly thanking him you rushed to your meeting with Monsieur Lefevre, the current owner of the theatre.

Performers as well as backup dancers and stage crew members rushed everywhere you looked, apparently a dress rehearsal for an adaptation of Puccini’s grand opera Madama Butterfly was about to take place in that very moment, meaning that everyone was pressured to get every single detail perfectly before the première in a few days.

Disoriented and a little overwhelmed by the crowd, you became lost in your way to find Lefevre’s office.

“Excuse me miss.” You heard a soft feminine right next to you. Figuring it was directed at you, you turned towards the voice. A young woman stood in front of you, she was wearing a gorgeously tailored dress with tiny flower petals resembling small butterflies sewn to the fabric, the jewels she was wearing also shared a butterfly motif and her long auburn hair was styled in a simple yet elegant up-do.

“I couldn’t help but notice you looked a bit lost, are you looking for someone in particular?” Her voice had genuine concern towards you.

“Uhm yes actually! I have an appointment with Monsieur Lefevre.”

“Oh you must be the new dancer! His office is right this way, please follow me.”

You let out a sigh of relief once you arrived at the owner’s office. Thank heavens for this woman’s help, otherwise you feared that you would have arrived late to such an important meeting for your career.

“Thank you so much, you totally saved me there! My name is (Y/N) by the way.”

“It’s a pleasure, mine is Kyrie. If there is something you need help with or any questions that you may have, you are welcome to ask me anytime.”

A member of the stage crew then called for Kyrie, her queue to appear on stage getting closer. She waved at you and wished you good luck before departing towards the stage. Alone once again, you knocked on the office’s door and awaited for an answer before entering.

“Ah Miss (Y/N)! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” Mr Lefevre received you warmly, you shook his hand before also greeting the woman standing next him. “I’m sure you still remember Madame Trish here, right now she was telling me about your stunning performance in the auditions. I’m sure you are going to be an excellent addition to our company.”

“Oh no, the honor is actually mine Monsieur. Performing here has been my childhood dream, I can’t thank you enough for the opportunity.”

“Your skills and talent make you worthy of a spot here, you don’t have to thank us.” Trish placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “But enough of that now, let us show you around the place so you get to know it better.”

---------

The more you walked, the more you knew about the hectic schedule of everyone in the theatre, still that didn’t erase the starstruck look in your eyes. Trish explained with detail your daily schedule and activities, most importantly your dance lessons which will be imparted by herself nonetheless and that she will have zero tolerance for late arrivals, with exception of critical emergencies of course. Monsieur Lefevre kindly pointed out that although strict and a little frivolous, Trish was actually a very caring woman, her dedication was what made her the current choreographer and supervisor in charge of all performers.

At the end of your long tour, Monsieur Lefevre invited you to watch the rest of the rehearsal from the first row, with Trish now leaving to supervise everything. On stage you spotted Kyrie, who waved at you as soon as she recognized you. As you had deduced earlier, she was the main soprano of the theatre, when she started performing and singing as Madama Butterfly you were stunned by how spectacular her voice sounded.

‘Everyone here is so talented’. You pondered to yourself as you watched the entire scene, the backup dancers supporting Kyrie’s number and the stage crew operating the moving scenery and carrying the props. You hoped to fit well in this place.

During a break, your cellphone rang and you excused yourself to answer the call. After reaching a quiet enough place, you answered. It was a call from your mother.

Just a year ago, your father died from cancer, it was already on terminal stage when it was detected. Instead of taking chemotherapy, he wished to spend the little time he had left with you and your mother. You remember his last words towards you.

“My child, I know how you dream of becoming a singer. Hold on tight to that dream and never let go, one day you shall achieve everything you set your sights upon. I love you my angel of music, I shall always watch over you.”

His words gave you the strength to keep going forward and move on. Eventually your mother wanted you both to move out of Fortuna, but you decided to stay, wanting to become independent and start living by yourself. She respected your decision, and from then on, she would often call you to check on you.

After saying goodbye to your mother, you ended he call. However when you headed back to the stage you noticed that something felt odd. The hallway was empty, only the far away sound of the rehearsal could be heard, but for some reason you didn’t feel quite alone, in fact, you felt like you were being watched.

You glanced everywhere, but you didn’t spot anyone. Shrugging it off as your imagination, you continued walking through the hallway. It was then that you heard a whisper behind you, quickly turning around you thought you caught sight of a shadow rushing behind a corner. You took a couple of steps towards it, still not sure if what you saw was real or a part of your imagination.

“Hello?” you called out, but no answer came.

“(Y/N)”

Your heart almost leapt out of your chest. Trish was right behind you, having looking for you before finding you in the hallway. “There you are. Come, I want to introduce you to everyone.”

After getting to know your coworkers, you definitely felt welcome in this new little world.

---------

“So (Y/N), do you believe in ghosts?” The girl in the seat next to you, Nico, questioned you out of nowhere.

It’s been a couple months since you started working at the opera house. You and Kyrie instantly became friends and she introduced you to Nico, the stage crew coordinator who took care of every prop and moving scenery in the theatre. You would often hang out together, right now you were enjoying dinner at a small coffee shop downtown, you even found Trish along the way with Lady, a friend of hers who worked as a bounty hunter of sorts, she didn’t want to specify more about it but you respected the discretion. You five ladies had been having a moment of girl talk when Nico brought up her question about ghosts.

“I really can’t say I believe in them, I’ve never seen one myself but who knows? Why do you ask?”

“Well, just wondering in case you haven’t heard about the rumors.”

You looked at her in confusion until Kyrie decided to explain to you.

“I guess you haven’t heard them. People believe that a ghost is currently haunting the opera house, but so far no one’s been able to see it properly.”

“Yep.” Nico interrupted after taking a sip from her smoothie. “So far the only evidence are disappearing objects, props appearing in places they weren’t before, and some even claimed to have seen a shadow moving behind corners.”

A shadow moving behind corners?

“I personally don’t believe in such nonsense.” Trish stated nonchalantly. “Those might as well have been caused by careless crew members who would rather blame a ghost than admitting their irresponsible actions.”

“But what about what the concierge claimed the other day?” Kyrie continued with the conversation. “He said he heard a male voice in Box Four, which is odd because that box was empty that day, in fact no patron has requested that box in quite some time.”

“Maybe someone entered the box while security wasn’t looking?” You wondered aloud. It is true that you witnessed what Nico had previously said about misplaced objects and how sometimes you would feel watched although nobody was around but you, then again, Trish’s explanation actually made more sense than the existence of an actual ghost.

“Ghost or not, I hope whatever it was won’t cause you any trouble in the future.” Lady added in the hopes of changing the subject. “But enough of that, how about we instead talk about much more positive stuff?”

Though everyone in the booth agreed, you still had your doubts.

---------

It was just another day in the opera house, rehearsing and practicing your choreography for the next play. You were just finishing your dance lessons when you were approached by Nico.

“Hey there darlin’! Would you mind taking this props to the storeroom over there for me? Apparently a spotlight got damaged and I’ve got to check it out.”

After letting her know you didn’t mind at all, she gave you a thumbs up before leaving. Poor Nico, she really deserved a break.

After storing all the props away, you glanced around yourself. Noticing that the storeroom was empty, you decided to practice singing. After all these years, you still weren’t confident in your voice, and when your father died, it got worse, only singing when you were alone and sure nobody could hear you.

You started with one of your favorite songs.

“What if I were a snow storm burning,

what of I were a world unturning,

what if I were an ocean,

far too shallow, much too deep.

What if I were the kindest demon,

something you may not believe in

what if I were a siren

singing gentlemen to sleep.”

Suddenly the lights went out and the door to the storeroom slammed close, leaving you in almost complete darkness and making you let out a small scream of surprise. For some odd reason, the room felt much colder than before, goosebumps appearing on your skin.

A voice deep inside your heart told you, you were not alone in this room.

“I heard an angel singing, when the day was springing…” A dark male voice sounded from inside the darkness that surrounded you. You glanced around, looking for whoever was speaking, but you found nobody.

Was this the phantom that haunted the opera house?

“Mercy, pity, peace; is the world’s release. Thus she sung all day, over the new mown hay, till the sun went down and haycocks looked brown…” the voice continued, making shivers run down your spine. “Such beautiful voice, like that of an angel from The Creator’s celestial choir… a diamond in the rough that has yet to be polished, a flower that has yet to fully bloom.”

“Who are you? Show yourself!”

“Hush my divine angel, no need to fear. I am merely a patron of this fine theatre, one that has watched over its many successful plays in delight. And if you allow me to be frank, your voice is one of the most delectable I’ve heard during my stay here.”

Whoever this entity was, you had to admit his voice was having a calming effect on you despite how scared you were feeling. It was soft like fine silk and molten like pure honey dripping down.

“What do you want?” You inquired this mysterious ghost.

The entity chuckled deeply, one that you could feel rumbling in your chest. “You fear rejection, that’s why you hide your precious talent here, where no one but yourself can witness it. Alas, I have found you my shy angel, and now I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”

You took a few steps backwards hoping to find the door, however your attempt at escaping was thwarted when someone grasped your wrists from behind.

You let out a gasp. You could feel his breath on your neck “Running away from me? You hurt me so my child.” He spoke right next to you ear. The phantom’s presence was so overwhelming, and complete with his deep sensual voice you couldn’t help but blush and submit to him.

He slowly let go of your wrists, but you remained completely still. “I have looked after this opera house from the shadows since many years ago, its meaning a very important one for me. I have watched over you too, I have witnessed your determination, your fierceness to pursue your dreams and keep moving forward, they have warmed my heart deeply so.”

He turned you around, and though you couldn’t see him well, you could feel his eyes connecting with yours “I wish to help you achieve your dreams.”

You felt scared no longer. His embrace was so warm and safe, like a guardian willing to protect everyone that sought refuge. You still had your doubts though, who was this mysterious man? Was he really a ghost? A spirit tasked with protecting this building?

You closed your eyes. Without realizing it, you were already answering him “W-what do I have to do?”

A moment of silence. “Everyday, at 12 o’clock, this area is left completely unsupervised. I believe it is also the time all ballet dancers take an hour long break before continuing their lessons. At that time, you shall meet me here. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Complete silence. Before you knew it, the presence in front of you disappeared and shortly after, the lights went back on. When you opened the door, the voice spoke again.

“I shall be waiting for you, my angel of music.”

---------

So there you go! The first chapter of Music of the Night.

We meet the girls Trish, Lady, Nico and Kyrie in the opera house and befriend them shortly after. I’m planning to add the rest of the DMC cast as well so stay tuned.

A few references in this chapter: The song reader sings at the storeroom is called ‘What If’ and it’s by Emilie Autumn. Also, when the concierge mentions hearing a voice from Box Four it’s a reference to the original play; however in the original it was Box Five, I changed it to Four since according to a japanese superstition, the japanese word for ‘four’ sounds almost identical to their word for ‘death’. Quite befitting to this story and V in particular don’t you think?

[sloshed-cinema]

Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015)

Travel and music take the forefront in this week’s edition of our boozy summer retrospective of Hitchcock and his influences.  We open the week with what I might dare to call the most nuanced treatment of the classical repertory in contemporary cinema.  The opera here isn’t treated as shorthand for either mustache-twirling evil or simple elitist event-occasioning, but rather drives the drama of M:I-Rogue Nation’s early action. Puccini’s intensely problematic but also slightly-better-than-most-other-bel-canto-opera Turandot informs the Vienna Opera House sequence to its very DNA.  We see the very score, learning that this Italian master drives the drama of the shooting three-way.  Christopher McQuarrie doesn’t talk down to the audience in this regard.  Hell, Simon Pegg’s character gets his introduction in this iteration by blasting Mozart’s Overture Marriage of Figaro.  Orchestral music can be cool, okay!?!  Now excuse me while I hunker down with some Shostakovich.

 Though let the record show, if the security guard had known a single goddamn thing about Turandot, they could’ve put a halt to the whole thing. That opera doesn’t have a fucking bass flute.  You’ve got two flutes and a third flute doubling piccolo.  

 Also we get Tom Cruise interacting with an open airplane cabin without screaming in that amazing way he did in the unedited original version of that The Mummy trailer.  So there’s that too.

 THE RULES

PICK ONE

Select one agency and sip when it is named:

IMF

CIA

The Syndicate

 SIP

Location-establishing text appears onscreen.

Someone makes a phone call.

Contact lens technology.

Friendship talk.

Someone seems to change their alliance.

 BIG DRINK

Gas fills a chamber.

Rebecca Ferguson takes off her shoes. Tarantino what?

Laser sights.

LIVER TRANSPLANT WAITLIST MODE *Only for those who want to speak like Sean Harris forever*

Sip whenever an element of the Mission: Impossible theme is featured in the score.

[davidpwilson2564]

Bloglet

Tuesday, January 24, 2017 

My birthday fast approaching. 

Note: Couldn’t get on line.  Called Verizon and was put on hold and made to listen to horrible rock music. 

Later: Problem solved, for now... The realization that , for one reason or another, I have left so much out of this account of things...  Want to say much more about Sunday mini-concert. 

My jaw still hurting.

Evening.  Head out for craft class.  Multiply tattooed Theo minding the door.  One of the poems under discussion is about the drummer Omar Clay.

Peter Krass ably presides.  Poet-speak examples: (1) Having one’s cake and eating it too.  (2) Hitting it on the nose.(More esoteric and poety...) (3) He or she has “earned it.” (4) Turn up the volume. (5) Unpack it.  ETC.  All of this, to an outsider, quite funny.  And how could I forget (6) “means of entry,” the way of beginning to figure out willfully difficult poems. Oh, it is to laugh. 

Wednesday, January 25, 2017 

At first computer issues then success opening my files and then, having run out of excuses, I write my piece for tonight’s class.  Later, having done it, a tremendous feeling of emptiness  and self-doubt. 

NOTE:

More to say about Sunday (I will be repeating quite a few things; want to get it down before I lose it.)  Sunday

One of the singers says she hears the Maestro's footsteps in the hall.  Very short footsteps.  Maestro Coppola comes into the room preceded by a walker the size of a small chariot.  He parks it in the corner and takes his cane.  He wants to rehearse the "orchestra," in this case piano and percussion.  The piano reduction is a killer part and I'm sure Maestro did the whole thing by (his quite distinctive) hand.We try something.  He says, "The orchestra wasn't quite together."  So many memories of playing for him years go (how many? thirty-something?).  The arm movements are (predictably) smaller and I remember seeing videos of Stokowski and Celibadache as nonagenarians.  We run the piece pretty much without incident.  I never played Turandot with Coppola but did not with La Selva.  Memorable experience to say the least. Did "Tabarro" with Maestro C and wish I'd one day get another shot at it. We are ready to start the show but some (important, I suppose) people have arrived and someone goes to get chairs.  So Maestro goes into a story about talking to Toscanini about Puccini.  You know.  The usual.  What was Puccini  like?  Coppola tells us what Toscanini says, with an immediacy in his voice that makes us feel we were present.  "I think I am good composer but...  Others can sit down and write a piece of music.  I cannot, without imagining a curtain going up and bright lights and people on the stage."  Yes, but what was the composer really like? The answer is in Italian but I get it: deeply melancholy.  The remark about having to see people on the stage jars loose a lot of stuff I cannot go into here.  But note that works not written for the stage (Capriccio sinfonico or Crisantemi ended up there.  (Self-plagiarism.) [Respectively "Boheme" and "Manon Lescaut."  Note that the last act of "Manon" is to take place "in a desert outside New Orleans."There would be many more stories but it's time to start. Throughout the performance Maestro makes faces and I realize that like, say, John Lanchbery, he is acting all the parts.  To be brief this is the unhappy ending.  The Calaf doesn't answer the third riddle and Turandot doesn't fall in love with him and he is to be summarily executed.  Ping, Pang and Pong, from Act Two, don't get to go home (they are desparately homesick; have told us all about it; note the theme of homesickness examples in Puccini).  The Ping, Pang and Pong music from Act Two pops up and they are on their way to another execution.  Curtain.  If there were one.

[ripetersi-blog]

        —— ‘ YEAH, SURE. ’ a lazy flip of a page that he’s not even reading, a lazy excuse for a conversation idly thrown out without much affect at all. ‘ RENT’s just a cheap modern rewrite of puccini’s far superior la bohème, anyway. it’s not even good. ’

[davidslepkow]

Your primary goal in Providence Family Court should be to avoid your divorce turning into a train wreck similar to the cases set forth in this article.  The RI divorce cases described below were so out of control, costly and contentious that they can only be described as a “train wreck.” Thankfully, I was not involved in any way with any of these cases! If you are in need of a RI divorce attorney contact a Rhode Island divorce lawyer.

RI divorce war

Divorce in RI and Custody Nuclear Wars- the top 3

Before you go to war in Rhode Island Family Court- Consider these Cases!  After reading these cases, a divorce settlement does not seem that bad? After learning of the RI divorce wars,  divorce mediation does not sound too bad? Below you will find actual quotes from the Rhode Island Supreme Court from the following Cases:

Cardinale v. Cardinale

Fossa v Fossa

Bergquist v. Cesario

Divorce in RI mess #1 – Cardinale v. Cardinale

This unfortunate and ridiculous RI divorce trial is notable and infamous for four primary reasons:

The animosity, lack of civility and rancor between the divorce attorneys involved in the cause of action.

6 separate appeals to the Rhode Island Supreme Court during the course of the case.

35 court orders by the RI Supre Court during the lower court divorce proceeding!

The Rhode Island Supreme Court  actually decided the  divorce trial rather than the trial justice.

The highest court in RI discharged the trial justice from handling the case. This may be unprecedented.

Bitterly contested, procedurally defective, bifurcated divorce proceeding

“The plaintiff, Joanne T. (DiCarlo) Cardinale (Joanne), and the defendant, Norman A. Cardinale (Norman), are no strangers to the Rhode Island Supreme Court.   During the last four years, the Cardinales repeatedly have come before us seeking emergency relief and filing petitions for writs of certiorari in connection with their bitterly contested, procedurally defective, bifurcated divorce proceeding.   During that time, this Court has issued no fewer than thirty-five separate orders and granted six writs of certiorari.   Indeed, if we administered a frequent flyer program, the Cardinales undoubtedly would be platinum members.” Supreme Court of Rhode Island. Joanne T. CARDINALE v. Norman A. CARDINALE. No. 2004-58-Appeal. Decided: January 9, 2006 Present:  WILLIAMS, C.J., GOLDBERG, FLAHERTY, and ROBINSON, JJ. Maureen Gemma, Esq., Cranston, for Plaintiff. James A. Bigos, Esq., for Defendant. OPINION http://caselaw.findlaw.com/ri-supreme-court/1090682.html “Thus, on January 2, 2003, the divorce proceeding was bifurcated, and the parties embarked upon this long, painful, bitter dispute over the remnants of the marital estate.” Id.

Trial justice refuses to decide case forthwith

“Once the case returned to Family Court, the trial justice issued another order declining to recuse from the proceeding.   Unfortunately, the trial justice, speaking as “an officer of the court,” chose to provide commentary about his view of this Court’s lack of appreciation of his caseload and the day-to-day workings of the Family Court.   Specifically, he took issue with our directive to decide this case “forthwith” and declared, “I agree with [Norman’s counsel] that I don’t think the [the Supreme Court], the folks sitting up on the hill, understand fully what goes on here, of the caseloads involved.”  The trial justice did not comply with our directive that the case be decided forthwith.” Id.

Acrimonious proceeding and rancor between those involved is the reason RI top Court decides the case

“The level of rancor between the parties and counsel and the unfortunate posture taken by the trial justice have prompted us to direct the remedy in this case. Although we seldom deem it necessary to resort to our inherent supervisory powers to fashion remedies, we have done so on occasion to end seemingly interminable litigation. This case presents us with such a controversy.” …”As we have observed, the pool of marital assets remaining after four years of litigation has been diminished substantially by this acrimonious proceeding and Norman’s slipshod and evasive business practices.”

Trial Justice failed to keep control of the divorce proceeding

“In her brief to this Court Joanne has alleged that the conduct and comments of the trial justice suggest bias that would lead a reasonable person to question his impartiality. This was not a simple case, and its difficulty was greatly compounded by the fact that counsel were antagonistic and caustic toward each other and the parties. Although we do not undertake this discussion lightly, the level of acrimony contained in this record requires our review. The lack of civility between counsel in this case is regrettable and inappropriate.  It was the responsibility of the trial justice to control the proceedings and counsel.   He failed to do so.” Id. Moreover, the trial justice’s comments about the numerous orders issued by this Court were inappropriate, if not petulant.The plaintiff has alleged that “[h]er decision to seek instructions from this Court had an immediate impact on the trial judge’s attitude, much like throwing gas on a fire.”Id.

Trial Justice benched because of improper commentary

This commentary by a judicial officer is improper and suggests a preconceived or settled opinion against a litigant, such that the trial justice should be excused from further responsibilities in this case. Cavanagh v. Cavanagh, 118 R.I. 608, 621, 375 A.2d 911, 917 (1977) (citing State v. Buckley, 104 R.I. 317, 322, 244 A.2d 254, 257 (1968)).”Id. “While we are of the opinion that the trial justice did not conduct himself with the demeanor that we expect from a judicial officer, our correction of his rulings pursuant to our inherent power to craft a remedy, means that the parties were not ultimately deprived of their due process.”Id.

Divorce war #2 : Fossa v Fossa | RI divorce at Rhode Island Supreme Court

unnecessary and unseemly contentiousness

disconcerting case

divorce battle – divorce war

Divorce in RI

“Apparent unnecessary and unseemly contentiousness and perhaps “gamesmanship”

“This case has been pending in the Family Court since October of 2000, and numerous lawyers and judicial officers have been involved with it at one time or another.   The degree of apparent unnecessary and unseemly contentiousness (and perhaps “gamesmanship” as well) reflected by the record is disconcerting. Quite frankly, the travel of this case reminds us of the mythical case of Jarndyce v. Jarndyce, which Dickens so devastatingly satirized over 150 years ago in Bleak House.   He describes that case in pertinent part as follows:“ [Jarndyce v. Jarndyce ] drones on.   This scarecrow of a suit has, in course of time, become so complicated, that no man alive knows what it means.   The parties to it understand it least; but it has been observed that no two Chancery lawyers can talk about it for five minutes, without coming to a total disagreement as to all the premises.”   Charles Dickens, Bleak House 7-8 (George Ford & Sylvère Monod eds., W.W. Norton & Co.1985) (1853). We wish to emphasize, however, that the Rhode Island court system is not the Court of Chancery of the Victorian era, and we are determined to see to it that our cherished system never descends to anything approaching that ignominious level.” Supreme Court No. 2004-89-Appeal. (W00-576) Kerri D. Fossa  v.  Richard D. Fossa : Present: Williams, C.J., Goldberg, Flaherty, Suttell, and Robinson, JJ. O P I N I O N PER CURIAM.  https://www.courts.ri.gov/Courts/SupremeCourt/OpinionsOrders/pdf-files/04-89.pdf

Plaintiff’s counsel lacks candor to the RI Supreme Court

“The defendant’s allegations in his written and oral submissions to this Court relative to perceived misconduct on the part of attorneys or judicial officers should be directed, if he chooses, to the appropriate agencies and not to this Court in the first instance. We feel obliged to add that we were dismayed to note the apparent lack of candor on the part of plaintiff’s counsel at oral argument when certain questions pertaining to defendant’s allegations were posed to him by the Court.” Id.

Worst divorce in RI #3: Bergquist v. Cesario

Love triangle

Like a soap opera

Contentious and acrimonious

relentless rancor

“A Puccini  opera, or at least a midafternoon soap opera. It might be described not so much as a love triangle, as a romantic rectangle.”

” The background of this case, as gleaned from the record and from representations made by the parties in various pleadings and memoranda, is worthy of a Puccini  opera, or at least a midafternoon soap opera. It might be described not so much as a love triangle, as a romantic rectangle. Before the controversy began, Cesario was involved in a relationship with Amanda Assante, who was a neighbor of Bergquist and his wife, Carol. Although the precise sequence of events is not clear, at some point Bergquist began a relationship with Ms. Assante; and Mrs.Bergquist, perhaps understandably, filed for divorce. Thereafter, Cesario began dating Mrs.Bergquist. Not surprisingly, the divorce was acrimonious and a source of much conflict and confrontation, particularly in light of the close proximity of the Bergquist and Assante homes. Sadly, the Bergquist minor children did not entirely escape the rancor that relentlessly engulfed the adults.” Supreme Court of Rhode Island. Stephen C. BERGQUIST v. John CESARIO. Nos. 2002–614–M.P., 2003–66–Appeal. Decided: February 9, 2004 Present:  FLANDERS   GOLDBERG, and SUTTELL, JJ. Stephen C. Bergquist, pro se, for plaintiff. John Cesario, pro se, for defendant. OPINION http://caselaw.findlaw.com/ri-supreme-court/1163627.html

Legal Notice per Rules of Professional Responsibility: The Rhode Island Supreme Court licenses all lawyers and attorneys in the general practice of law. The Rhode Island Supreme Court does not license or certify any lawyer / attorney as an expert or specialist in any field of practice.

keywords: horrific divorce, nasty divorce, foul, awful, horrendous, bitterness, rancour, rancor, thorniness, acrimony,  bitter, resentment, acerbity,

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rhode island divorce attorney

[lessthansix]

Rating favorite recordings is not a pleasant pastime among opera fans– it’s a blood sport. One can never recommend. One must arbitrate and simultaneously assassinate the characters of any who disagree. If you think this is overstating the case, post an innocent question on any internet group relating to this subject. Something along the lines of “Which ‘Butterfly’ recording should I buy?” Check in a week later and be amazed at the hostility generated by your apparently innocent question.

William Berger, Puccini Without Excuses

[lessthansix]

In other words, it is up to the tenor to turn it into art. Some fail through lack of musical taste, others don’t have or have lost the technique to make it soar. (I remember one dreadful night in San Francisco a couple of decades back when the once-fine tenor had clearly lost his juice, inspiring one dread-filled member of the audience to yell out, “Shoot him now, before he sings!” Performances of this opera lend themselves to such antics, as we have seen.)

William Berger, Puccini Without Excuses

[lessthansix]

This is the celebrated and dreaded passaggio of the tenor voice, which only the best vocal composers knew how to manage. The voice sounds inherently emotional in this range. If the tenor's technique and pitch are secure, he will simultaneously convey manliness and expressive sensitivity.... You're lucky if the tenor you hear has either aspect, let alone both. If his technique is flawed, he'll sound like an unfixed tomcat in the moonlight. There's no way to fake it.

William Berger, Puccini Without Excuses