I enjoy going to the Opera whenever I can – it’s not something I can often afford, but I suppose that keeps it something cherished that always seems to thrill.  One particular show that has stuck in my memory more than others is La Traviata, Verdi’s tragic story of two lovers in 18th Century Paris.  This Saturday, March 6th, will mark the 157th anniversary of its very first and disastrous performance in Venice.  Thankfully Verdi didn’t give up on the show and today it is one of the most well-known and most performed operas throughout the world, with many other works, La Boheme, the film Moulin Rouge, for example, based on the story.  That being said, the opera itself is based on a book by Alexander Dumas, La dame aux Camélias.

The opening creeps in, so soft and gentle that most in the audience don’t realize the orchestra has started playing until a few seconds in.  It possesses a certain musical theme that isn’t as prevalent in other shows, which is perhaps why this one is so popular, you find yourself actually humming along walking out of the theater.

The ending, of course, is quite sad, but offers one of the greatest moments in opera.  Just as Alfredo returns to Violetta to reconcile, their world collapses.  Violetta is dying of tuberculosis and near the end, with only moments to live.  Suddenly, however, as Alfredo returns and they embrace she begins to feel a remarkable recovery, warming up and regaining her strength.  But it is only her body’s last gasp and in a tear-jerking twist she finally collapses in death into Alfredo’s arms as he looks on, stunned.

Mind-boggling in its difficulty, Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concertos, are considered by many pianists to be some of the most challenging works to play, let alone master.  Watch the video and you can see that the third Concerto demands an athletic ability from the performer.  To maintain so much speed in your fingertips for so long must be a rather masochistic experience.  I certainly think the work provokes a kind of pleasing discomfort in a live audience watching the musicians struggle to keep up with the notes on the page.  And struggle they do – even a world class performer like the famed, Argentinian artist, Martha Argerich, has to work to pull it off.  She succeeds, and epically so, but what effort!  The second half, below,  is even faster than the first.

Certainly the most famous song from Verdi’s classic work about the fate of the Jews at the hands of the conquering King of Babylon, the wicked Nabucco.  It is distinguished from other opera classics because it is not an aria, but sung by the chorus.  This performance is from the Metropolitan Opera, in New York City in 2001 with James Levine Conducting.  Nabucco is not on the roster for the current season, but is rumored to return in the 2011 – 2012 season.  But don’t wait to go see a performance there – it’s a truly remarkable place.

The very definition of a child prodigy, the now legendary Russian pianist Evgeny Kissin was just seventeen years old at the time of this concert.  To see him play with Herbert von Karajan at the helm is a thrill we should all be so lucky to experience, if only through a digital recording.  You’ll be sure to want to hear the second half after enjoying the clip above.

A slumbering work until 6:03, and then transfixing in its tempo.  Some dislike Gould’s intense style, but I find it compelling for the precision and pure approach he has.  It’s a minimalist sensibility, mercifully free of the ornamentation and posturing you see in many pianists.

A few years ago this work was revived in the popular culture by featuring prominently in the French Film, De Battre Mon Cœur s’est Arrêté, otherwise known as The Beat That My Heart Skipped.