My Vicarious Met Début

On Wednesday evening, The Tenor In My Life made his Metropolitan Opera début, singing the Drum Major in Berg’s Wozzeck. It was a very proud moment. The Met, of course, is one of those houses — if not the house — which almost every singer hopes to cross off the list, and where the roster for even a single season, let alone the last hundred years, is basically a Who’s Who of opera. It’s not the be all and end all, whatever some New Yorkers might tell you, but it’s massively significant just the same — there aren’t many operatic thrills that can beat a triumphant Met début, and that’s exactly what TTIML pulled off on Wednesday. I know I’m biased, but trust me on this: he aced it.

It was also a very proud and exciting moment for me, sitting there in Row P of the stalls and clapping as hard as I could. Believe it or not, years and years ago, when opera first took over my life, I remember setting it as one of my life’s goals to one day be the guest of somebody making their Met début. I’d since forgotten all about it; only recently did it occur to me how prophetic I’d been — though I don’t think I could have predicted these circumstances then if my life had depended on it!

This really was a brilliant evening, in all sorts of ways. Wozzeck, while not destined ever to be a great favourite of mine (congratulations, Berg, your opera is even bleaker than Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk!) nevertheless does appeal to those of my sensibilites which are drawn to loud, German repertoire, and TTIML could hardly have asked for better Met début circumstances. A strong production, a reasonably full house (considering it’s Berg), a fantastic cast including Alan Held in the title role and the great Waltraud Meier as Marie (also her first time singing it at the Met) and above all, James Levine himself in the pit, returning to vociferous applause after health woes caused him to cancel a number of engagements and conducting an opera he’s always said is one of his favourites. Combine all of that and the result is inevitably pretty stunning.

Now, if you know Wozzeck, you know the Drum Major isn’t exactly a nicest fellow. In fact he’s completely vile: arrogant, brutish and lecherous, and prone to some rather, well, lewd behaviour. Some of it involving Waltraud Meier and a wall. I confess that, given the choice, I’d rather watch my other half be the good, heroic guy than a violent lout; but hey, a Met début is a Met début, and when he’s singing (and acting) any role as impressively as he does this one, it’s always a happy and proud experience. In fact, I’m now in what I imagine is a tiny minority of people who have felt just a little bit teary at the Drum Major’s first entrance, and cheered him on as he beat the living daylights out of poor luckless Wozzeck.

I said, he aced it. But you don’t have to believe me. You can believe Anthony Tommasini in the New York Times, who said “The Australian tenor Stuart Skelton, in his Met debut, was an imposing, bright-voiced Drum Major.” You can believe Mike Silverman, writing for the Associated Press, who called it “an impressive début”. (He also called the role the “Drug Major”, my new favourite typo.) Or you can believe James Jorden’s review for the New York Post, my favourite so far, which said “In a smashing debut, towering heldentenor Stuart Skelton tossed off high notes like grenades as the thuggish Drum Major.” See what I mean?

There are two more shows. One tonight, in less than an hour, which is why I’m about to stop writing. The last performance is on April 16th, and is one of the Met’s weekly Saturday matinée radio broadcasts. So if you’re in Australia (or anywhere else, for that matter) and want to hear the country’s #1 Heldentenor triumph at the Metropolitan Opera, well, there’s your chance. As for me, I’m off now to do so in person.