An Open Letter To Peter Gelb

Dear Mr. Gelb:

My name will be totally unfamiliar to you, and so by way of introduction let me tell you I'm the writer of a blog called Sounds & Fury which is concerned exclusively with the arts generally, and with opera and classical music in particular. Within the so-called blogosphere I'm fairly notorious for being, shall we say, blunt in my opinions, and have been labeled, among other charming epithets, a po-faced reactionary for my seemingly conservative and elitist views, and as well for my intransigent opposition to the pop-cultural thinking that today has so alarmingly insinuated itself into and contaminated all the domains of art.

Given that brief background, it should come as no surprise to you when I tell you that I was initially suspicious of, even hostile to, your appointment as the Met's new general manager. After you assumed your new post, however, and I saw more clearly what you had in mind for the Met, I've been consistently supportive of the new direction in which you're taking the company in order to attract a new and younger audience for opera, even when in the implementation of that new direction the result has been an unmitigated train wreck (the Letterman Show debacle).

I'm addressing you today concerning your revamping of the format of the weekly Metropolitan Opera Saturday-afternoon radio broadcast intermission features, including a revamping of the format of the role of the "Voice Of The Met", so to put it, which role was, to my knowledge, first, and for a considerable time, filled by the incomparable Milton Cross, and which today, up until very recently, has been filled by the getting-lots-better Margaret Juntwait. And what I have to say is quite simply: you really have to put a stop to it. The new format, I mean. You really do, as it's an egregious and even damaging embarrassment no matter how well intentioned.

While I understand fully the attract-a-new-and-younger-audience-to-opera thinking behind the new format, its all too palpable unintended consequences far outweigh any gain that might be realized from its employment, if gain there is to be had. Generally speaking, that format comes across as a lame aping — even parody — of the multi-announcer live coverage of a network TV sporting event, complete with the requisite inane, intrusive chatter, and vapid, prole-pandering, locker-room star "interviews." As I say, I understand fully the thinking behind all this, but opera — not to even speak of the Met as an institution — will gain nothing by being made to appear no more important than a mere sporting event, and no more dignified or elevated, either — in short, will gain nothing by being made to appear no more significant than a lowest-common-denominator entertainment.

This, I suggest, is, by any measure, a manifestly false and at-cross-purposes message to be sending, and you ought therefore to cease and desist before this well-intentioned revamping of an honored, honorable, and longstanding Met tradition inflicts damage that, if not irreversible, will require a Herculean — not to say expensive — effort to repair.

I therefore beg you to reconsider your ill-considered going forward with this new format.

Sincerely,

A.C. Douglas