The tweets, blogs and sites that deal with the gossip around films were awash this past week with the first photos of Anthony Hopkins as that master of implied horror Alfred Hitchcock. I have to be honest and say I didn't find he look all that much like Hitchcock and he looked even less like Sir Anthony. Apparently this is all in aid of a movie that's currently being made about making a movie - not just any movie mind you but that 1960s classic of subversive terror Psycho. This was the film that had an entire generation avoiding taking a shower like.. well death.
It wasn't until I read the entry on Wikipedia that I realized the behind the scenes drama involved in making the film. The studio bosses felt that the material was just too strong for the sensibilities of the American public and Hitch had to fight to get it made. Even then he had to finance it himself and in order to cut costs filmed in black and white and utilized the studio team he had working with him on his weekly TV series.
Alfred Hitchcock Presents was part of a legendary Sunday night line-up on CBS in the 1950s - it began with Lassie saving people and ended with Hitchcock bumping them off! Though he seldom was involved with directing the show, for over ten years he served as a slightly sardonic host for a half-hour - later expanded to an hour - of murder and suspense. And for ten years we were treated to introductions that became as classic as many of his films. As the lumbering first cords of Charles Gounod's March funèbre d'une marionette sounded the camera faded in on a simple eight line caricature - drawn by Hitchcock - of that unmistakable profile followed by Hitchcock himself in silhouette lumbering, like the music, on to the screen and eclipsing the drawing. Then he'd turn and in that purse-lipped, plummy almost lisping voice wish us a "good evening". What followed were satirical or mocking jabs at the sponsors, network and general state of the Union as lead-ins to the commercial breaks. There were times when Hitchcock's brief appearances were more memorable than the episodes themselves.
It was during a discussion on the upcoming film with my colleague Lara that the topic of Gounod's little piano piece - part of a larger unrealized suite - came up and as often happens with our discussions it led to a Google search. As well as quite a few of those Hitchcock introductions we came across this fun piece of animation. Created by Eric Fonseca - he scripted it, created the puppets and decor and filmed it - back in 2006, its almost like something out of Edward Gorey as directed by Alfred Hitchcock. The perfect combination for a March Macabre!
This remarkable piece of animation was the first effort of Eric Fonseca and took him a year to make. He followed it up with The Fall of the House of Usher - a full length stop-animation feature that he completed in 2010. A preview of what looks like an fascinating take on Poe's tale of terror can be found here.
22 April - 1970: The first Earth Day is celebrated.
One of the unexpected thrills of the past year or so has been reporting on performances at La Scala for my friends at Opera Britannia. On five occasions I have headed up to Milano, approached the Box Office on Via Filodrammatici and asked for my press ticket. How cool is that? Me with press tickets at La Scala! How I wish my father could have seen that.
However as the time to leave draws closer I realize I am doing things for what is probably the last time. This past Monday's trip up to Milano was the last of that sort that I will be making to view and review a performance at what is arguably the world's most famous opera house. And the review, which was published last evening, will most likely be the last I will be doing with any regularity for my friends at OB. That trip had a bittersweet flavour to it and what would be more appropriate than Charles Gounod's take on Shakespeare's most bitter-sweet tragedy - Roméo et Juliette. Not produced at La Scala since 1934 it also had the added interest of featuring the very talented Canadian conductor Yannik Nézet-Séquin in his debut at the house. A left click on the poster will take you to my views on the opening night performance.
I can't thank Faye at Opera Britannia enough - first for taking me on as a member of her reviewing team and then for putting up with missed deadlines and using all of her editing skills to make my articles almost readable. Big bunch of baci Faye and buon compleanno!
Though I've always found her link to music just a bit tenuous - something to do with hearing heavenly music on her wedding day - Santa Cecilia is the patron saint of music and musicians and as a result incredibly beautiful music has been written to honour her.
I've always loved Charles Gounod's Ste Cecilia Mass and particularly the Sanctus. And if every anyone was blessed by Cecilia it was the great Swedish tenor Jussi Bjorling. Though the recording is old, the text is sung in English and the accompanying choir a bit shaky, the Saint has never been praised more beautifully than this:
