Maestro James Levine, 65 year old ringmaster extraordinaire of the Metropolitan Opera orchestra pit and conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, has had to cancel his remaining performances at Tanglewood this Summer. After last weekend's performance of Berlioz Les Troyens ( a multi-hour marathon which is performed in two halves, one on Saturday night the other on Sunday afternoon). Levine informed management that he would be admitted to hospital this week to undergo nephrectomy surgery - the removal of a kidney. Apparently tests have discovered a cyst on that kidney which is causing pressure and discomfort. It is no secret that such cysts are commonly cancerous but a surgeon friend of mine tells me that removal of the affected kidney is often a successful treatment and we do quite well firing on only one kidney. Levine’s hospital stay is likely to be around four days and then some weeks of recuperation at home is called for.

Over the last few years I have developed unreserved admiration for Maestro Levine's skills in the orchestra pit and a good deal of affection for him personally. The obvious joy and enthusiasm he shows for his work are a pleasure to watch. And as I have commented here before when I see him enter the pit and hoist himself up onto his seat before the podium I relax, knowing that whatever other disasters may befall theperformance the orchestra will turn in a performance that will be at the very least polished and may be revelatory.

Maestro Levine is scheduled to conduct the Metropolitan Opera Opening Night Gala on September 22nd, and it really just won't be the same if he isn't there, so please join me in hoping for his speedy and complete recovery.

I am not by and large much of a comic reader. Like most pre-teens in the 1950s I read The Beano ( a publication guaranteed to prevent flatulence - just kidding!) The Dandy and The Eagle. The latter was a four-color comic on glossy paper and therefore very thrilling. It starred Dan Dare, a futuristic spaceman and his nemesis The Mekon, a small green figure with a large head who floated around on a weird plinth. On the back page was an ongoing cowboy strip. I can't remember the hero's name but I do remember he was always falling foul of banditos who wore Viva Zapata moustaches and invariably vowed vengeance on the gringos with the words "Caramba! For that you die!" Fast-forward about 50-odd years and I am reading a comic again. This one is online and is called Ask Dr. Eldritch. I am not going to try to describe it to you since I just could not do justice to how funny and clever I think it is. I do urge you to read it for yourself. A fresh edition appears every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It is the brainchild and work of a talented Portland artist Evan Nichols and from what some of my friends tell me it is gaining a good deal of national attention. It seems appropriate to mention it here not only because this particular panel shows the poster from the recent Portland Opera production of Aida but because I suspect that opera lovers who have no difficulty in suspending disbelief should have no problem in surrendering to the whimsy that is Dr. Eldritch. I have to admit I never miss an issue. The picture at the head of this post is a panel from a strip which appeared some months ago. I kept meaning to tell you about it and somehow it got away from me. It seems like perfect Summer fare. Click on the picture to see it full size and be able to read the words.

This year marks the 150th anniversary of Puccini's birth which naturally affords the press an opportunity not only to celebrate his life and music but to talk about his womanizing, the scandal that surrounded his servant's suicide and his illegitimate offspring. An excellent article appeared in The Independent, an English newspaper, and I thought you may wish to read it. Now I accept that it may strike some of you as a heresy but I have always thought that Puccini pretty much said what he had to say about opera by the time he finished Madama Butterfly in 1904. Yeah, yeah, I know he wrote other operas later but really...Fanciulla del West? Set in gold-rush times in California it's a lightweight piece of nonsense that is hopelessly set geographically and in time. Il Trittico? Pleasant enough but I don't believe even his most ardent fan would suggest that if Puccini's reputation depended on this he would hold the position he does in the canon of opera. And Turandot? You can't seriously expect me to believe that had Pavarotti not sung “Nessun Dorma” at the ceremony for the soccer World Cup in Italy most people would either know of or care for this opera. So, you may think what you will but I shall be celebrating the life and music of the guy who wrote La Bohème, Tosca and Madama Butterfly. You wish to get all excited about La Villi, Edgar or La Rondine? Help yourself.

“Nessun Dorma” was a natural choice of anthem for the Italian Football Federation. It was after all from an Italian opera; it was sung by opera's biggest star who happened to be Italian. And it's rousing last notes are set to the word "Vincerò! Vincerò" which translated means, "I shall win! I shall win!" As it turned out a more fitting aria would have ended "I shall come third!" which is what actually happened to the Italians. But no matter.

While musing on matters international, today is Bastille Day. Now say what you will about the French, but boy do they know how to write a national anthem.  After sixty odd years of listening to the torpor which is “God Save The Queen,” hearing a rousing rendition of “La Marseillaise” reminds me of just what a national anthem should be - uplifting, jingoistic, and at a decent marching pace.  I'm humming it right now.  I think I'll email our splendid local classical music station at 89.9 and ask them to play it.  I know there is an excellent recording from Canada.  Incidentally, Benjamin Britten did a superb arrangement of "God Save The Queen."  I'll try to find a recording for you.  In the mean time, here is Jessye Norman belting out "La Marseillaise" in Paris in 1989 as a part of the celebration of teh 200th anniversary of the French Revolution.  Sometimes a diva just gotta do diva.  Can you imagine anyone- anyone- doing this better?

It's another hot day deserving of a chilled Pinot Grigio to accompany a crusty loaf and fresh cheese. I love Summer!