It's much easier being male than female at these gala events, because you don't have to worry about what to wear as long you own a simple tuxedo, and the lines to the bathroom aren't as grotesquely long.
Local press titans were represented by the Hearst Corporation's Phil Bronstein (above) who seemed to be ignoring his statuesque date...
...and Bay Area Reporter publisher Tom Horn (above, with the glasses).
Cedric, the outrageously tall Frenchman who writes about classical music for SFist, was having a good time with his wife Yumiko. (Click here for a fine review by Cedric of the previous evening's "Tannhauser.")
Also in attendance were what Armistead Maupin used to call "A-Gays" in his old "Tales of the City" series...
...and even a welcome appearance by Marlena (above), the Hayes Valley drag bar owner who is equally at home in a tuxedo and a gown.
There was a symphony concert in the middle of all this involving Renee Fleming, the new Queen of the Opening Night Galas, but I'll leave Joshua Kosman at the Chronicle to write about that. Let's just hope he wasn't feeling as grumpy as the previous evening when he was seeing "Tannhauser" at the opera. ("Do you think he had a bad appetizer over at Breezy's?" my friend Charlie asked.)
After the concert, everyone was invited to a party next door in the large, lavishly decorated tent where many of the guests were hungrily grabbing at a variety of hors d'oeuvres, though it wasn't as bad as the Macy's Passport show according to Beth Spotswood (click here).
The space soon became claustrophobic...
...so many of us repaired to City Hall...
...which was lit up purple on the outside for some reason...
...and a lurid red inside the rotunda.
A dance band was playing in the North Light Court...
...and after a martini, I crawled home at midnight.
A new production of Wagner's early (1845) opera, "Tannhauser," opened at the San Francisco Opera on Tuesday evening, directed by the acclaimed British genius Graham Vick and choreographed by Ron Howell (pictured above).
For the last month, I've been rehearsing a ten-minute scene at the end of Act One with six other supernumeraries (Alan Goes is pictured above). We've been working with six principal singers, including the great German tenor Peter Seiffert as the tormented knight Tannhauser, while carrying a dead wolf around my neck, and dodging a live horse who has been getting spooked onstage. Tonight it all went off brilliantly.
For those worried that David Gockley, the new General Director, would be taking the company back to the literal, dumb days of Lotfi Mansouri while scorning the European subtext style of Pamela Rosenberg, this production should be a corrective as it is both daring and bizarre.
In this version, the famous Pilgrims Chorus is sung by mostly shirtless male choristers with various "sins" carved into their torsos in blood.
The first dress rehearsal was extremely amusing watching the chorus lined up in the basement makeup room while they were handed out personal sins that ranged from "LAZY" to "DRUNK" to "RAPIST." Then the two young gentlemen above would make sure everyone's hands and feet...
...looked perfectly filthy.
In the men's chorus dressing room area, there was a hilarious, unironic bit of signage advising them, "Please let us know if you are planning to shower off your sins after Act I, so that we can supply you with a shower cap..."
I have no idea how the production worked from the audience's point of view, and it's impossible to be even remotely objective when you're backstage in a costume, but the finale at the end of four hours struck me as an absolutely amazing coup de theatre, and musically it couldn't have been more exquisite. The spontaneous applause for Graham Vick, the director, from the entire cast at the curtain call was unusual and heartfelt.
A tall man with long red hair waited for 20 minutes beside me for an outbound N Judah train at the Van Ness Muni Metro station this morning. He was wearing what looked to be homemade armor over the front of both his legs and arms, along with a cape over his shoulders and a bag and a thermos attached to his waist.
I wanted to take a picture at the station, but didn't since he looked a bit frightening. Does anybody over at Greg Dewar's fabulous "N Judah Chronicles" (click here) know who he is? The gentleman didn't seem to be coming or going to a movie shoot and he's definitely not in "Tannhauser" at the opera tonight. In any case, he made me want to wear a cape around everywhere.
