Best proposal ever! Even the writers at DOOL could never be so clever.

Howard L - Thanks for the Wagner insight, much appreciated. I am but a casual fan; however, I am very much enjoying learning more. And hope someday I can take your advice and see the whole thing in one shot.

Ernessa - Light sabers were pretty cool, if they had them for sale in the lobby I would have totally bought one. I do think you would definitely like the part in Die Walkure with Brunnhilde and the Valkyries. These strong women warriors in a circle, well it reminded me a bit of our roller derby sisters. (Note: Kasey, Ernessa, and myself all became friends while skating for the L.A. Derby Dolls.)

Also of note, I find it interesting that the stars of the Opera and Coachella, Domingo & McÇartney, are only a year apart in age.

Hey Chuck. I truly hope you enjoy Die Walkure and that its not as painful for you as Das Rheingold. Although being quite a bit longer I can't say I'd bet on it, and it's a shame you are missing Domingo. But please report back on your thoughts, I'm really curious to hear what you think.

Also my husband wrote his thoughts about our experience, we didn't include them in the original blog due to the length, but perhaps someone will find them interesting so I'll include them here.

Addendum on Wagner by SL Duff, slightly edited because my husbands seems to lack the same editing skills he complains Wagner is without:
Let that roll around in your mind a minute-five hours. I think that's roughly how long it took to tell Roots as a mini-series. It's nearly twice as long Gone With The Wind. It's a third again as long as Coppola's war opera Apox Now Redux, which, keep in mind, when it was an actual commercial entity that he needed to recoup a few napalm battles with a theatrical roll-out, he wisely hacked an hour out. Wagner, talented tunesmith and word wielder that he was (one of the very few primary opera composers who also quill-penned his own librettos, rare then and rare now), had perhaps too few skills in the editing department. Or, fueled on absinthe and primitive Nineteenth Century Germanic amphetamines, he just didn't care.

Truth be known, Die Walkure (sorry, I'm definitely not doing umlauts for free), has about as much story line as a typical episode of How I Met Your Mother. I mean, what takes so long? If you look up the synopsis on line or wherever, there isn't that much to it…This warrior gets his ass kicked and weapons broke so now he can't do anything. He arrives at a RANDOM house in the forest. But it's not random at all, because the chick that answers the door is none other than this guy's long lost twin sister, whom he decides he's in love with and wants to marry (narcissism gone haywire via incest) even though chick's husband is the very same bully that just busted up homeboy's weapons in the forest. Turns out chick has a super-powered sword rammed into the rock outside her forest shack (doesn't every forest shack), and if homeboy can pull out the sword (of course he can, it's an OPERA), he can kill everyone/everything in his way and the two of them can make a race of inbred retards and live happily ever after. That is the first act, which is really one 75-minute scene.

The staging was a trip. The whole stage is tilted back-to-front towards the audience at about a 40-degree angle. There is a rotating circular part at center stage that alternates between futuristic sundial and upside-down pentagram. It must have been a little disconcerting singing or doing blocking while the thing was moving at an angle. A lot of the action, in fact, is portrayed by chorus members while the main stars stand to the side and sing the parts, like maybe doing both over a five-hour haul was just too much. I don't think Wagner would have let that slide, but this is modern times, ain't they?

At one point I tried to imagine the intensity of seeing this in a German opera house, outside the big city, with the big man with the big vision holding court, waving the baton, and all of the players singing and relaying the action in real time, waving swords (not plastic light sabers as in this production, an attempt to futurize it or something), and belting these parts for the duration. Imagine, the crowd delirious on mead and powders, the combined effort versus time of performance adding up to a sweat-filled opera house where the condensation dripped off the walls. The orchestra would be right in your face, not under the stage and muted as at the Chandler, with tympanis pounding, basses scraping, horns blasting. Must have been something.