I Puritani

Ken Howard, Metropolitan Opera

I Puritani at the Metropolitan Opera

The rotten New York Times review of I Puritani at the Metropolitan opera meant the house was pretty empty last night but the audience could still interrupt the performance with enthusiasm as tradition demands. Reviewers always say that this opera is a marsh of muddy music rescued by its principals. What rot. It is like “Don Carlo” poured through a hair sieve and left to set, so enchanting are its four hours of choruses interspersed with terrific arias that only the world’s best singers can approach. Last night’s singers were not only musically enchanting but also gorgeous to look at while the masses of Puritani, in their poke bonnets and aprons, sang perfectly and gave good, Puritan stare. Being there was like spending Eternity in the Rijksmuseum surrounded by Vermeer portraits, with divine music. That’s my idea of heaven but it seems to be the NYT’s idea of hell.