Bloodsport

Well, so, the broadcast season begins Saturday. This is less of a calendar entry on par with arbor day and the equinoxes if you live in New York, but worth shouting about in any case. I think they should do an all blogger edition of the opera quiz, don't you? Wouldn't it be kind of brutally funny and wrong? Considering we all cling to some degree or other of anonymity (ok and considering the likelihood of them asking) I suppose I don't really mean it, but I'm picturing something like the classic Parterre sketch in which someone ends up calling a thinly veiled Father Owen Lee a "superannuated faggot." Not gentle comic fare, but still pretty riotous these years later.

(Speaking of, I have for the first and only time scooped Parterre with casting news of Brokeback, the Opera. Get me!)

I think we're all wondering just a little whether Villazon will rejoin us for Saturday's broadcast. A discontented soul in standing room was heard to mutter Tuesday that perhaps the big V was saving his voice for an audience of millions, though I think that's the voice of disappointment rather than reasonable suspicion. I do have a hunch the radio may magnify some of the less ideal aspects of the singing in this production.