HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PLACIDO!<BR> <BR>By Kim Klein <BR>On January 21, his 62nd birthday, tenor and opera administrator Placido Domingo proved himself a consummate Washington player by wowing both the White House and the national media without singing a single note.<BR> <BR>"It is a tradition of mine to work on my birthday," Domingo said, as he opened a morning press conference in the chandeliered reception room of Washington’s DAR Constitution Hall.<BR><BR>Ostensibly he was there to announce the 2003-2004 season of the Washington Opera, his eighth as its artistic director. There was the usual anticipatory buzz over which production he would star in or conduct. The answer: he will sing Siegmund in Wagner’s Die Walkure, conduct Manon Lescaut - "without any doubt my favorite Puccini opera" - and perhaps be one of the surprise acts customary in Die Fledermaus, the season’s opener. The other productions will be Bellini's Norma, Rossini's La Cenerentola, Verdi's La Traviata, and the second production, anywhere, of Andre Previn's 1998 work, A Streetcar Named Desire.<BR><BR>The Washington Opera, under Domingo, has yet to sponsor a world premiere. While Domingo hinted that negotiations for such a production were in the early stages, he also argued firmly for the importance of giving any new work "a second possibility, away from the hoopla of a world premiere." Previn will conduct the first two performances of Streetcar and is still choosing the cast of singers.<BR><BR>Domingo, however, had been introduced as "Director of Artistic Construction" as he was handed a bright orange hardhat. His most important assignment was to convince the press that the cavernous auditorium above them, with 3,700 seats, a narrow stage, no backstage, no orchestra pit and dubious acoustics, would be "a challenge of excitement and adventure" as a temporary home for his company, while the Kennedy Center opera house is closed for twelve months for renovation.<BR><BR>With candor and enthusiasm, Domingo made a good case. The Washington Opera has spent $2.7 million to make changes to the 1928 auditorium, reducing the number of seats to 2,900. By removing the front eighteen rows, a stage has been built to jut out into the auditorium. Domingo, gesturing dramatically at his podium, showed how a singer might project to an audience on three sides.<BR><BR>The orchestra will sit at the back of the stage but out of sight. Conductors and singers will stay in touch via TV monitors. These, Domingo assured everyone, will work just fine: he has sung with monitors himself.<BR><BR>"We have chosen artistic teams who direct in unusual surroundings," he added. He was even thinking he might ask Francesca Zambello to direct Die Walkure with an American setting, "Why not, instead of the Rhine as the river, have the Mississippi?" As if to emphasize the possibilities of Constitution Hall, the company opens there on February 22 with the grandest of operas, Aida. Declared Domingo, "No elephants but there is enough room for everything else."<BR><BR>Speaking with great earnestness on the possible mechanical enhancement of voices at Constitution Hall, Domingo declared, "I am really very serious about not having amplification in opera. Opera has to be real - you must hear the real voices of the singers."<BR><BR>Nevertheless, he defended the right of all patrons to hear every note, explaining how the company would make its decisions: "We are going to have rehearsals with full cast, full orchestra and full chorus before we decide whether some kind of enhancement will be necessary. Whatever the results, I will tell you the truth about this. We are going to be very clear about what we do and why we do it." He concluded, "I beg you not to speculate in advance. I ask that for my birthday present today."<BR><BR>You would definitely buy a used car from this man.<BR><BR>Domingo wound up the formal press conference by celebrating, in his own words the earlier announcement that the Washington Opera was not over-budget and ticket costs would not rise. It is "something like a miracle," he said, "that we are there with black numbers."<BR><BR>Donning his hardhat at the request of photographers, Domingo then led the press corps up into the auditorium to show them the changes taking place. "Let’s try the acoustics without any amplification," he said, as he pointed out the front walls being extended to supply wings to the stage and the wooden "acoustic clouds" hanging over the blue and gold seats, waiting to be hauled to the dark blue ceiling. As he left the hall, a TV photographer whipped out a harmonica and played tunes from Carmen. They came through loud and clear.<BR><BR>Then it was a just a four-block trip to the White House, for Domingo, where First Lady Laura Bush hosted a luncheon for 75 in honor of his birthday and his ties to the Washington Opera. Dining on Maine lobster with asparagus and truffle risotto were opera staff, trustees and executive committee members, along with Domingo’s wife, Marta, and son, Alvaro. Some of the guests sang for their supper: a bunch of young artists, in the company’s training program, very dear to Domingo’s heart, offered the cheerful "Brindisi" party number from La Traviata. Finally the birthday cake, inscribed with "Happy Birthday, Maestro" arrived to the triumphal march from Aida played by a member of the Marine guard on the piano. While the president couldn’t make it for the lunch, he did put in an appearance and wished Domingo "feliz cumpleanos."<BR><BR>Since the press were not invited, Domingo himself later described to The Washington Post what took place. "I was absolutely thrilled - it was an unforgettable birthday for me," Domingo was quoted as saying. "And the first lady looked so beautiful." Mrs. Bush, a great fan of the artist, according to her press secretary, spoke of his humanitarian work. <BR>Domingo responded with a wish for peace. "I hope the only war we have is the war onstage,"<BR> <BR>24 January 2003 — <BR> (all these stuff are from <BR> <BR> <BR>
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