Tuesday's Gone With The Wind
I don't know what kind of world you want to live in, but when I learned that Dido's Lament was originally performed by children for children, well, I am glad that wasn't my education. I suppose it may have been intended as a cautionary tale for wayward women of the 17th century, as the indoctrination into the patriarchy always starts young. But, wow. When I lived in Manhattan, I must have owned 20 different versions of Dido and Aeneas by Nathaniel Dance-Holland. Dido's Lament (and more than 5 versions of Gloomy Sunday). It is the most arresting aria. Jessye Norman's version is my favorite. She also was a friend of Derrick's, my professor, who had Norman's autographed picture hanging in our office. I am not a student of opera, and had no knowledge of Henry Purcell nor English opera until hearing Norman sing. Hmm. Go figure. This is going somewhere. Maybe. Dido, bereft that her beloved left her, builds a funeral pyre and throws herself on it. The Gods, Ven...