Word: glades
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...then fanned out on foot. Climbing through oak and beech, then pine and fir, one of the carabinieri patrols suddenly flushed a man with a gun, who appeared to be some sort of sentry. Persuaded by the gun in his back, the sentry led the police up to a glade where some 130 men were gathered. Six of the men, apparently wary of informers, wore black hoods. Most were heavily armed, and all were obviously members of L'Onorata Società (the Honored Society), Calabria's branch of the Mafia...
Menotti coached them in a realistic acting style ("Love, love, love! Pure ecstasy!") and framed an Act II love scene that was definitely neither grotesque nor comical. A filmy-gowned Isolde and a bare-chested Tristan met in a forest glade that Menotti had sprayed with mood-inducing perfume; they kissed rapturously, and then, singing at the top of their voices, sank into a long, full-length embrace in the grass...
...that tourist!-Epinard, Faireno, Kelso, Gallahadion, Jim Dandy, Gallant Fox, Top Flight, Whichone, And one we need not call by name, the get Of Fair Play from Mahubah; and Regret, Noor, Sergeant Byrne, Ponder, and Petrotude, Miss Merriment, My Lovely, Singing Wood (Bay colt, by Royal Minstrel out of Glade), Cochise, Count Fleet, King Saxon, Cavalcade, Three fillies, Sorrow and Song and Rust-remember?-And Scarlet Oak, Right Royal, and Red Ember, Nashua, Swaps, and Sting, and Twenty Grand, Wise Counsellor, Whirlaway, and Yellow Hand, Yurup, another gray one, Native Dancer-Where are the ones with breeding...
...Annie Get Your Gun fame, sang Escamillo with an ample baritone, but sounded ready to launch into "The Girl That I Marry" at the smallest provocation. Carole Bogard's Micaela had lots of potential but her lively soprano couldn't compensate for the inherent dullness of the role. Glade Peterson's powerful and expressive tenor seemed perfect for Don Jose, but he muffed the Flower Song and never fully recovered...
...embodied enigma. The spectator knows only that she was an accomplice to a murder. Otherwise he knows nothing about her except what he chooses to imagine, and her job was to make the imagination seethe. She did it superbly. She leaped through the picture like a leopard through a glade. She was glimpsed, she was gone: ulterior and magical, the eternal puzzle of the passerby...