As the Opster Project moves closer towards the age of the castrati, it’s all-too-appropriate that Cecilia Bartoli’s latest CD should be all about the boys of the bris. By means of an extra-curricular study, I’ll listen to Sacrificium when I break into the 1700s (any day now…). In the meantime, this week’s cure to the Mondays seems to be an evening at (Le) Poisson Rouge with all of the other opsters, watching a film of Bartoli singing selections from her CD in a crazy, baroque ‘n roll Neapolitan castle. The notoriously aviophobic mezzo won’t be coming stateside this year, so this is the best way to catch her. And nothing makes castration go down so well as a glass of LPR’s house cabernet.
In the meantime, my boyfriend is crossing his legs.
