Category Archives: mezzos & contraltos
Before I go into details about Halle and Glyndebourne, I wanted to share this aria I ran into yesterday (after looking up Galou’s version of Quel torrente…, which tends to get cut but Christie didn’t (yay!)) and I was very taken with it. Six degrees: it’s from Halle Handel Festspiele 2010.
All I have to say right now is: amazing performance 😀 even the usual poor acoustics of the venue could not hinder it.
…I ran into this (for your convenience, I’ve linked the ending – you need to stay for the “flea market” chorus – everybody in for themselves!1):
What in the world was that? And how did anyone – especially the conductor – think this was a good idea?2 Works well for the final stretto 50m dash in the Operalympics or as an advert to stop kids from playing with electricity, otherwise…
ps: from another Opera Ball – this time in Dresden. Coincidence? I think not.
ps2: in her defence, she is not afraid of taking chances (and watching her moves is half the fun), unlike a certain mezzo we know and (I) love 😉 One hopes that these chances were less misguided…
ps3: even more in her defence, as a redeemer for Rossini, this trailer of Adelaide di Borgogna, where Ottone seems to be a woman. So maybe she just needs to ditch the Opera Balls and stick with trouser (wearing) roles?
Last night thadieu and I decided to revisit this precious moment in Viennese Opera Ball history 😉 and then it occurred to us to compare Gritskova’s moves to previous Opera Ball featured singers. What came out was both amusing and illuminating:
As you can see, the moves appear pre-ordained. Now of course, Netrebko was on the verge of fabulousness (already on top of the world?) at the time and she is a natural mover, as opposed to La Grits, who looks like she’s thinking, I will be fa
mousbulous if it kills me!
You didn’t think you’d escape this “scientific experiement” without an incursion into the steely moves of the Ice Mezzo herself, did you? Here she’s singing Mon coeur s’ouvre a ta voix (brace yourself for some arctic seduction). But, as you can see, she also has to walk and twirl (I mean wowza at the camera movement! That’s some getting down with the debutants for Vienna!).
As thadieu observed whilst we very carefully surveyed a few of her performances (including La tremenda ultrice spada and Non piu mesta), she seems to be thinking I will sing this intense aria, but I will make 100% sure not to trip on the hem of my gown at any time (actually T was more colourful, saying she was careful to avoid stepping into – vocal – mud).
After some big names, prepare for textbook DIVA action:
Aside from the curiously unflattering musical choices, it’s plain to see that Draculette has drafted into her contract if and when she will be moving! Haha! She’s such a veteran, she knows that she will be asked to cover that huge space and wants it in her own terms.
So there you have it, we can be a little less harsh on Gritsy today. After all, her choice of aria was the most… daring?!
The other day around noon I was at home deciding which thumb to start twiddling, just on time to see Stutzmann/Orfeo 55’s concert in Chengdu, thanks to thadieu’s link. Sichuan (otherwise known for its spicy sauce and giant pandas) has a snazzy TV station that broadcasts online.
I clicked the link to see the TV presenter sat in a comfy chair near a neat little table (set Chinese style, of course), checking her messages (Western style) whilst the accompanying picture on the Orfeo 55’s FB page shows La Stutz languidly lounging in someone’s suped-up basement.
I was thinking ok, nice setting but are we going to watch this young woman check her messages? Yes, we were! For about 20min. In the meanwhile, other people got in and out of the camera, in a nice kind of way. I suppose the cameram… person was checking their messages, as well? – and the video director, too.
Eventually some adverts with a giant panda came on and I recognised the music from adverts back home (to something or another, possibly mobile providers?), though the visuals were obviously nothing like you’d see on Eastern European TV (they were way cuter, in a Poundland-cute kind of way). So far so £1 hipster (especially the message bubble sound effects).
After the adverts went on for a while I finished twidling both thumbs and decided to take a shower; hen I came back the presenter was interviewing someone in French (she was speaking in Chinese, the other woman was answering in French). After the interview they rolled what seemed like the same bubble sound effect advert for 25min, which is only fair if your consumerist communism is trying to hammer the message home to its subjects. I think I want the giant panda provider myself now. But I was confused since the show was supposed to start and the adverts were merrily popping on and on.
25min later the giant panda suddenly gave way to the Orfeo 55 performance – smack dab in the middle of an aria 😀 – opera broadcast Sichuan style! Now that we were finally in business, something became alarmingly obvious: the performance was broadcast via someone’s not so smart mobile. The high strings as well as the applause was distorted in an early ’80s well worn VHS kind of way but the vocals and the lower pitched instruments came off as well as one can hope from a Poundland mobile phone. Leave it to Chinese tech to work out the impossible.
There seemed to be more breaks than usual and the panda returned at random times, after the video director let us admire the empty stage for a suitable amount of time. The performance itself was all right, perhaps a bit less enthusiastic than I remember Orfeo 55/La Stutz from previous Wiggy moments but maybe it came down to the Poundland broadcast acoustics.
I parsed the programme and, as far as I’m concerned, there are two Proms I would be interested in:
John Eliot Gardiner conductor | Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique
Overture ‘Le corsaire’ (8 mins)
La mort de Cléopâtre (21 mins)
The Trojans – Royal Hunt and Storm (10 mins)
The Trojans – Dido’s death scene (7 mins)
Harold in Italy (42 mins)
Handel’s Theodora. I know I said it was boring but Ann Hallenberg is Irene. It will be worth listening to it on the radio 🙂
Sonia Prina contralto
Vivica Genaux mezzo
Lars Ulrik Mortensen director
The ladies and assorted gents sang/played this show the night before in Copenhagen and the next day their special Baroque papier mache helicopter dropped them on the Wigmore Hall stage.
opera performance? Can you blame me? 😉
This is going to be short and sweet: a blast! Best thing: it was on the Danish radio so this will surface, as some of the arias/duets were nowhere to be found on YT and as such I couldn’t remember what was what aside from: a blast! With endless trills taken in stride by Genaux (she can trill! And she can laugh about it, too) and Attitude from Prina (who knew?! heh heh) and a lot of good humour from Mortensen as well. The orchestra does a very sweet job as well, I wouldn’t mind hearing them again, can do a delicate ending if necessary. So soon after the Barbican Rinaldo concert performance we had Venti, turbini done just the way I like it – with a bassoon-voice on the spot battle that the bassoonist adapted quite quickly and did I mention Attitude? Happy camper in the house.
The house was packed, so I thought I was toast in my backseat next to the wall on the right aisle1. But then this weird thing happened – the ladies at the sweet end of my row got up and walked out just as the show was about to start. Then an usher came over and demanded (in a nice way) to see my ticket (like I would’ve upgraded there?!) saying something to the effect that maybe they had printed doubles and would I like a different seat but if I was fine with where I was sitting that was perfectly ok. Uh, what? This wouldn’t be so funny if it wasn’t the second time in two weeks (!) that this happened to me. With the same seat. I have one more show in that seat and I’m curious if someone rambles at me again about it. Stay tuned.
But since the subject was broached, I mentioned to the gent next to me that, if the ladies weren’t coming back, maybe we could scoot over. He looked at me in a jolly way as if “gosh, what a very funny thing to say, ha ha!” When I saw the doors had closed and the ladies were definitely not coming back I said I was going to sit on the end if he wasn’t moving. He did oblige. I then noticed another seat on the end a few rows up and I escaped from under the overhang. Hurrah!
Then Genaux came out in her black/silver trouser role frock and Prina in unisex black bra-frock, aka, the tattoo showcase frock, and went on frocking for the rest of the evening, with giggles and hand kisses and cheek kisses and hand holding and Attitude – and quite a bit of emotion. Plus these Ba-frock things that are very funny to look at. The countertenors love them too. I think they go with the trills. Their vocal mix was interesting, with Genaux doing a bright thing that did not cover the solid colour of Prina’s lows.
This was my first time hearing Genaux live. Like I said, the trills are beautifully detailed and fast – plus her da capos always lovely – and her Baroque style is superb but I don’t think I’ll ever warm up to her 5 greens of the day tone, especially in the highs, for which she was on duty during this performance. To Prina’s natural manner (she came out bowing to Genaux’ mad display of technique in the aria she brought out to match Prina’s Venti, turbini) she played the girly sidekick, with demure gestures and hands clasped on her chest at the (very, very) warm reception they got.
It was the most Pavarotti’s in the house atmosphere I’ve seen this side of the countertenor fangirling-machine and the JDD superstardom mayhem. Case in point: the applause started even before they sang one note! Haha. Steady, steady, we’re in England. Then again, the day had been much nicer than the wrist-slashers that preceeded it. Leave it to contraltos and mezzos to bring out the sunshine.
George Frideric Handel (1685-1759)
Overture from Rinaldo HWV7
Nicola Porpora (1686-1768)
Vado o caro con la speranza from Elisa
George Frideric Handel
Più d’una tigre altero from Tamerlano
Geminiano Giacomelli (c.1692-1740)
Parti dal core, lasciami in pace from Scipione in Cartagine nuova
George Frideric Handel
Overture from Tamerlano HWV18
Giovanni Bononcini (1670-1747)
La costanza, il timore, l’affetto from Astarto
Mai non potrei goder from Astarto
Attilio Ariosti (1666-1729)
Overture from Vespasiano
Placide a miglior vita from Gianguir
Johann Adolf Hasse (1699-1783)
Parto con l’alma in pene from Siroe, re di Persia
Antonio Lotti (1666-1740)
Sinfonia from Ascanio
Quella destra sì mi porgi from Giove in Argo
Pietro Torri (c.1650-1737)
Vo’ che in mezzo del furore from Nicomede
George Frideric Handel
Venti turbini from Rinaldo
Francesco Gasparini (1661-1727)
Se non temi il mio furore from Eumene
Son nata a lagrimar from Giulio Cesare
(reprise of) Ma non potrei goder? a cute as hell duet, the replay of the Danish radio performance will tell
- sometimes I sacrifice the quality of the seat for the quantity of shows attended… ↩
Remember this post? Let’s see if Canaletto’s account of 18th century Venice stands for truth in April 2018.
That’s a closer picture of what Canaletto has in the background of his: the East side of Piazza San Marco with the Doge’s palace and the tower and the San Marco Cathedral in the back – but crucially, I’m glad I got St Mark’s lion’s bum in the picture 😉 Below we have the very calm waters of the lagoon (a proper puddle!), from the opposite side to Canaletto’s, because we didn’t have the time to boat around it like he did:
Looks just a bit less festive than the Marriage of the Sea, though if you peek closely you see there are plenty of boats going to and fro. Cielo e mar are pretty much a spitting image of their 18th century selves.
Sorge l’irato nembo
e la fatal tempesta
col sussurrar dell’onde,
ed agita e confonde,
e cielo e mar.
Ma fugge in un baleno
l’orrida nube infesta
e il placido sereno
in cielo appar.
Pretty much! Coming from London where you get 5 types of weather in one day, I basked in the eveness of Venice. Every day sunny, breezy and roughly the same temperature. Serenissima and all that. Today’s weather in my neighbourhood: Max 7C, min 4C. Raining steadily. Winds strong enough for the cornices to howl. Tomorrow is Mayday.
I mentioned earlier that Venice is all about history. The fact that it’s not built to include cars and other such vehicles beyond Piazzale Roma (where the buses etc. drop you if you’re arriving from inland), goes a very long way to removing that sense of living today that you don’t even realise until car engines are turned off (comercialism is alive and kicking – perhaps a trading city like Venice was always meant to incorporate – even welcome – that). I felt like stepping into the past – and though I sometimes enjoy fantasising about medieval times etc., I’m not exactly a la-la-la, I’m a princess! type 😉 but in Venice it felt almost wrong to place yourself in 2018. Funny enough, Prina hints to that in her Orlando interview with Mezzo TV.
Another thing about Venice that I don’t think I felt so strongly anywhere else (yet?) is how happy everybody is to be here (Agathe pointed this out when we encountered a group of middle aged women whose collective jaw dropped – loudly! and amusingly – upon coming face to face with a carnival item shop). It’s absolutely mobbed with tourists but the general attitude is of wow! and so cool! as well as how cool am I for being here? though, of course, I’ve seen some bemused faces (or perhaps they were tired of seeing so much in one go?).
But as a lover of Vivaldi’s work there’s an extra something about making your way through the narrow streets which sometimes don’t accomodate two people at once and most certainly are winding confusingly in the beginning. He lived here and wrote here (and Orlando premiered here – I swear we accidentally stopped there on our way to finding a bridge to cross back from the San Marco side; whilst we’re on Vivaldi spots, Ospedale della pieta used to be here and yes, we (unknowingly) did pass by it because hello, Tourist Central – told you, it’s the kind of place where you accidentally step into another piece of history).
Back to Teatro Malibran, which is La Fenice’s studio theatre (aka, where the cool stuff happens). The back (the Artists’ Entrance) is apparently located in what used to be Marco Polo’s house. How cool is that?! Or maybe it’s the next building over or across the tiny canal. Even so, how cool!
Look at the below picture and learn as we did: the loggia is nice and airy and gets all the music. The more expensive balcony space below and back of the stalls are all covered. The further back you are, the more you get 1) sound muffle, 2) no view of the surtitles and of the top of the stage (when Orlando climbed the moon, everyone around us was ducking left and right to see what he was doing up there). But the seats are almost twice the price! On the upside, you get a rather eye level view of the stage. Hm. Choose wisely. And, yes, that metal bar holding up the lights all around the venue was as annoying irl as is in this picture.
So just how fabulous was Orlando? By now you’ve probably seen the livestreaming footage, as it’s up online, I’ve jogged your memory with a few pictures of the environment, which I know aren’t everything, because you really have to feel the gentle air in Venice, but, still, the sights can go a long way – I doubt it could’ve been anything but fabulous even before it started.
From up on our perch (second row in the loggia) we had that badass loud sound and we could see much better than on Saturday. The railing occasionally interfered but not to a great extent. The stage was small enough to feel super cosy and the very 18th century informed special effects (the ripples of the sheet-sea, the papier mache hippogriff, the very obviously not real “ruins”) are tongue-in-cheek but also charming and more effective than one would immediately think.
The house is very unpretentious, what you see in that indoors picture is most of the decoration. The staircases are narrow (of course) but bright and simple and the ushers a bit stiff but mostly very friendly. One of them remembered us on the second night! T thought we “looked very specific” and I agree we were more dressed down than most but the rest of the audience (lots of locals) weren’t particularly sporting crown jewels. They were friendly and chatty (even occasionally during singing) and did not boo anyone, on the contrary, were free with their applause (I believe only a couple of arias did not get a response).
It is a bit weird to have the opera called after Orlando but see all this other action taking most of the space, with Orlando himself only having two (very badass) arias and some havoc wreaking at the end. Though, to be fair, that havoc and its respective recits were way worth it. And, again, sort of unusual, because it’s almost regular theatre with these bits and pieces of music to highlight the most important emotions Orlando is experiencing. Prina mentioned Fasolis stripped it even further so you do start to get into the “play” – or I did, at least. It had a stronger emotional impact than usual, because sometimes music can lift a bit of the tension – you get into the pretty sounds, you admire the musical skills…
I really like Orlando the character. He’s in a unique position, of someone who’s physically stronger/more skilled than everyone around him, and everyone fears him and gives him a wide bearth, which impinges on the possibility of developing any sort of real relationships. For her part, I think Angelica does not fear him (for herself) as much as is fed up and wants him gone, because she knows he can crush Medoro, who’s not macho at all.
Though in this production it is brought into question just how much she wants him gone… We have some very explicitly non repellant interaction between her and Orlando in that balloon aria where she bewitches him. There are ways to get rid of someone via wiles that don’t have to involve so much participation from the supposedly unwilling partner.
Then again, this is an opera where women are very 3D, as opposed to men (except for Orlando). And, true, if you can’t match someone for strength you should try to outwit them. We see the damage Orlando causes once he realises he’s been had.
What I also find interesting is Angelica and Medoro’s position at the end, once Alcina is defeated. Up to that point they were quite obviously on her side, what with Alcina concocting the plan to get them happily hitched and away from Orlando and providing the very sophisticated nuptial entertainment. But in the end Angelica’s like “oh, btw, what Alcina did to Orlando is totally uncool (it’s pure coincidence that it worked for us). And let’s not start on the poor hippogriff! Not cool! Prosecco, anyone?” Medoro: “What she said! I love my cutie-coo gf! Teehee!”
Oh, yea, the 19th was apparently Fasolis’ 60th birthday, so the orchestra and the choir did a very nice Baroque improv on Happy Birthday and everyone clapped and congratulated him on a job well done reaching 60 in the pit 😉
We ended up not getting lost and made our way back via the same winding but well signed streets at dusk and then took the commuter bus back into Mestre. You really don’t need the vaporetto, unless you specifically want to (go to the islands). Basically you’re fine with the 3Euro/day roundtrip from Mestre and back. And unless you must dine on the shores of Canal Grande, prices are reasonable even within Venice.
Pictures later… but here are some thoughts:
Early yesterday I joined T in Venice for major contralto action – and gelato and balmy weather (as the heatwave had just hit London the day before, “balmy” might be putting it mildly. My head is still trying to adjust, but I do appreciate the concept of “breeze”, which is not something London does).
Venice… It is a but weird seeing in the flesh something you’ve heard of enough to consider yourself familiar with (heh) for your entire life. Just how many historical sights have they crammed per square mile?! The mind boggles. Every other city I’ve seen so far has a point where it starts to take it easy with history; Venice just keeps on going. It’s somewhat peculiar location probably helps. Canals, canals, canals… though apparently not quite as lengthy as Birmingham’s. The trick is, of course, how crammed it all is.
If you’ve never been, it’s more tightly together than you can imagine. There is no need to fear distances, you will be able to cover them without major effort. You could probably even walk from the Mestre train station to Ponte Rialto and not feel particularly tired – as they actually have pavements on the side of the motorway (which is more like a larger road).
Apparently, the season is not yet in full swing, but the amount of tourists, especially lining up for overpriced meals and endless selfies by the Grand Canal, is exhausting. Luckily they tend to stay within typical areas. Walk a bit off the beaten path – as Teatro Malibran is – and you can have a gorgeously relaxing time by a tiny canal, where gondoliers do a great job and not ramming their boats into each other.
Moving on towards contralto action, I was astounded by the acoustics at Teatro Malibran! If you want to see something there, DO IT! Don’t think twice. It’s crystal clear. We were quite far up and I could understand every word, hear every inflection. Even the countertenors seem loud here 🙂
As soon as the orchestra started I could tell this was going to be a feast for the ears. Fasolis does a great job with the modern orchestra, only on occasion getting a bit too loud. That being said, and considering what I mentioned about the acoustics, this is one of the loudest Baroque performances I’ve heard so far. For better or worse – you lose some warmth but Fasolis uses the volume dynamics to optimal results – especially in Orlando’s hell raising Sorge l’irato nembo, where going from soft to loud gives a wonderful depth.
Now that the live stream happened and will be out for our pleasure on culturebox for a whole year, I’ll focus on things that are different when heard in the house. Cirillo as Alcina was excellent – I liked her a lot more here than in Torino. Plus the role is so much fun in Vivaldi (it’s still awesome in Handel but fun wouldn’t be the right term)! I liked Vistoli’s Ruggiero better in the live stream, interestingly, but, as t mentioned, it could also be from night to night. He is still very secure sounding in the very long lines, and plumbs some tenoral depths – for better or worse, depending on how you feel about these forays. I’m not quite sure.
Prina was wonderful but then this seems like a perfect role for her particular skills and talents. There is a lot of emotional ground to cover – from seasoned warrior to hopelessly in (unreqitted) love. I want to talk more in depth about Vivaldi’s take on Ariosto vs Handel’s, as they are very different, but I’m going to do this in a longer post, likely after the Saturday performance. Suffice it to say that men are by and large taken the piss out of in the original text and this production follows that. Yet Orlando is not entirely unsympathetic, as uncouth as he comes off. He’s madly in love, the poor thing, and he really has no clue how to tackle this issue, though he definitely tries. If you’ve familiar with Prina you can probably tell how much this suits her. She has that kind of physical authority to always anchor one’s attention, regardless on who else is on stage and/or how well armed the other person is. From vicious Polinesso to poor hapless Orlando…
T and I were a bit worried when Prina climbed the moon during Nel profondo cieco mondo, but luckily she did not slip… Also you could tell the sets worked well to project the voice back to the public, especially when she got close to the back of the top curtain and it came off a bit soft.
So that’s it for first impressions, more later about the rest of the impressions 😉
Ps: I really liked Alcina, but her treatment of the cute and soulful hippogriff was not cool at all! I could hardly focus on things after she carved his heart out… I know she was desperate but COME ON!
As you all know, I have so far decided to stay away from Twitter, mostly on account of already spending enough time online (I’m falling by the wayside, I know, but -). Based on the accounts below, I don’t know that I dare put up with the mental anguish and aesthetic dilemas at stake:
(it’s bachtrack, but they do occasionally give 3 stars and less, don’t they? This describes a performance of Handel’s (virtue-praising borefest) Theodora)
We’re talking about students and young professionals so I’ll be wary about bandying names.
Heavy forshadowing… but starting with the good:
Here instead, in a nod to last weekend’s Glyndebourne Opera Cup and as a means of cutting to the chase, is my roll of honour.
First prize: Polly Leech (mezzo- soprano) a complete artist whose command of style, score, vocal technique and stagecraft was staggering. Her rendition of Irene’s “Bane of virtue” was the first moment at which a singer’s performance met the measure of the work.
Honourable mentions go to soprano Charlotte Bowden, tenor Patrick Kilbride and bass Jolyon Loy.
(Bane of virtue is a really badass title – \m/ at ya, DJ Handel)
So far so polite and appreciative. Now onto the scandalous part:
There were near-misses for a couple of countertenors too, but one shrieked at the top and faded at the bottom while the other, though more technically secure, buried his head so deeply in his score that poor old Didymus remained glued the page.
😀 Sorry, I don’t have the Twitter truth quotes, as this was pointed out to me by Baroque Bird, who likes countertenors a lot, so I have no reason to think her mezzo-biased or malicious. We had a convo over whether it was weird or not to lay it into ’em (whoever ’em happen to be). Well, you know me 😉 You’re on stage, wear your Gorgon shield.
These are comments on the ROH production of Turnage’s opera for children, Coraline, apparently doomed to be his last (opera):
The Observer’s Fiona Maddocks felt it was overlong, but praised the cast and staging, writing. “With some text trims and … judicious use of surtitles, it could triumph.”
The Guardian’s Tim Ashley, in a four-star review, noted that the children in the audience enjoyed it but added: “Turnage has long divided opinion, and not everyone, I suspect, will like it.”
Like, OMG, no platform, the two of you!
Worst of all, the bad boy of English classical music criticism:
Indeed, the Telegraph’s opera critic Rupert Christiansen did not pull his punches. “Turnage’s score is grey, sluggish and lacking in either charm or spookiness,” ran his review.
That’s almost as bad as they cuss up in Tottenham, fam. What what!
Hugh Canning, the Sunday Times’s opera writer – although this was not a production he was reviewing himself in a formal capacity – added in a tweet since deleted that he thought that Christiansen’s comments were “spot on”.
He hastens to add, he was not reviewing it himself. But he did post a thumbs up. What’s the (first) world coming to? Wait, he deleted it 😀 world crisis (almost) averted – you didn’t think this stopped here, did you?
The following day, ahead of his opera’s final performance of this current run, Turnage, who in 2015 was awarded the CBE for services to music, wrote a tweet to Canning and Christiansen which said: “Don’t worry Hugh. There will be no further operas by me that you will ever have to sit through again. I’m done with the genre. Going to leave it [sic] my more talented contemporaries and younger colleagues.”
I’m taking my CBE and I’m going home! You critics can write your own operas now! See if I care.
Canning replied: “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve been a big fan of your earlier pieces. Can I suggest a few cuts in Act 1 & a sprinkling of fairy-dust on the orchestration?”
lolz. It’s but a step from thumbs up, big dawg to a sprinkling of fairy dust. We all flirt with danger on occasion but soon return to the rivers and the lakes that we’re used to. Or to the bowl of potpurri.
The critic’s response was heavily criticised by opera singers including British tenor Paul Curievici, who was not involved with the production. He wrote: “The shared-space-ness of Twitter is tricky, and this is one incident among several in which the right tone has seemed hard to land on … Opera twitter prompting one of our most garlanded composers into abandoning the art form does not make me feel good about opera twitter.”
double lolz. You couldn’t make this stuff up.
The tenor Ben Johnson tweeted: “Where does a critic get off directly (publicly) writing to a composer of this standing in such a way?”
Dunno, dude, I thought you had a really funny sense of humour. A composer of this standing – good thing it’s still ok to say what you have to say about lesser known composers.
All I can say is, a friend of a friend who’s into Neil Gaiman (as well as opera) went and enjoyed it.
Ok, there’s something else I wanted to say: