Unfortunately, due to severe laryngitis, Thomas Hampson (known to us via operacat - where are you? - as the Divine Thomas) had to withdraw from the Zurich ARABELLA (starring Fleming) and will apparently cancel his ROH THAIS. Get well soon, Tom!

Which artist cancellation, notably a last-minute or in-house cancellation, caused you great disappointment, or vice versa, and why? Have you ever wished you were present at a performance (eg a ROH TROVATORE!) that included an indisposed star (eg Leontyne Price!) being replaced by hitherto a little-known performer (eg Gwyneth Jones!)?

I hope he doesn't cancel "Thais", or there will be big trouble from me as well as operacat.

Strange. I happened to be listening to Thomas Hampson this afternoon - singing Ives.

I regret to have to say that I was most unimpressed by him . . .

I think that like many musicians now singers are pushing their voices too much now. This is why there are so many careers threatened with laryngitis.
I wish Tomas Hampson recovers quickly.

Here!!! haven't logged in recently...been spending a lot of time on the Richard Dawkins forum!!

A story I've mentioned on the other board: on my first night in London as a student I went to see the production of Les Troyens which created such a stir in the 1969-70 ROH season. There was a good deal of buzz about the house before curtain up, since there was a strong rumour that Josephine Veasey, who was the production's Dido, was indisposed, and there was no cover: perhaps they'd just do the first part and send us all home.

Sure enough, to aubible groans, before the show began the burgundy tabs were paged for the FOH manager: "Ladies and gentlemen, we are very sorry to announce that Miss Josephine Veasey, who was to have sung the role of Dido tonight, is indisposed and will therefore be unable to appear at this evening's performance. However, we are very fortunate to have been able to obtain (at exremely short notice) the services of someone else who has sung the role before, though not in French... Ladies and gentlemen, the role of Dido will tonight be sung, in English, by...Miss Janet Baker." The house erupted with cheers and applause.

It was a wonderful night. Since Jon Vickers, who was the Aeneas, had also previously sung his role in English, he switched languages to match for the scenes with her, so successfully that at the revival a couple of years later normal practice of giving works in their original tongue was temporarily abandoned, and the whole thing was done in English.

At around the same time I saw a performance of Grimes (the old Tyrone Guthrie production, not the later Moshinsky): this time it was Vickers who was indisposed. His replacement was Ronald Dowd, a fine tenor whom they'd had to drag away from a holiday in Derbyshire: unfortunately it was several years since he'd sung the role, and there were some alarming lapses of memory: the scene in the hut in particular was almost a duet for Grimes and the prompter.

The third replacement story occurred during my time at ENO. A performance of Rigoletto, pre the Jonathan Miller production. Derek Hammond-Stoud in the title role, and a rather large Canadian Gilda. The Sparafucile was a young John Tomlinson, but one night he was off, and his replacement was Harold Blackburn, a veteran Scottish singer who had first sung the role with the Carl Rosa company decades previously. Quite apart from the fact that he'd never learnt the new translation, spouting instead the rather risable stilted English of one current half a century previously, his major problem was that he just wasn't strong enough to lift the sack containing the afore-mentioned hefty lady. First I knew of it all was a visit to the dressing room by one of the junior staff producers, the late lamented Stephen Pimlott. (Incidentally the other newcomer to the position that year was Nicholas Hytner, so someone there was an excellent talent spotter.) We'd finished the court scene, and it was time to go home. "Could we ask a favour?" he said. "Could you possibly stay behind to be Sparafucile's mute assistant, since we've got a real problem with carrying the Gilda? We'll get your something suitable to wear now, and just stick with him: we can rehearse the difficult bit in the interval before."

So I found myself improvising this deaf-and-dumb shadow. Come the interval, as soon as the set's ready we're down on the green working out how to do the handover. We're about three feet above main stage level on a 'rocky ledge', and although it's possible to drag the sack along the ledge, lowering it down isn't easy at all, not helped by the fact that the poor soprano is absolutely desperate that she shouldn't bang against the 'rock face' on the way down. The way it's done is that the she's sitting down facing forward in the sack, and the Rigoletto feels for her ankles and pulls her clear of the vertical face so that all the carrier has to do is to lower her slowly, and concentrate on not dropping her... We rehearsed it several times and it all went smoothly, a nice gentle lowering with a bump-free landing.

Things are often different in the heat of performance.

The sack was delivered smoothly to the edge of the ledge, and I could see that I'd allowed plenty of clearance so that the chances of hitting the rock face were minimal. It was now time for the Rigoletto to take her ankles and some of the weight. We'd rehearsed it several times before without a hitch, so where was he now? Suddenly I felt his hands round my ankles, trying to pull me clear of the ledge. I was right on the edge of it as it was, any further and I'd be pulled down on top of them both. It's not easy to whisper when you improvising being a deaf-mute: my toes were already over the ledge and the heavy sack was still right up in the air - I'd not be able to hold it much longer.

By this time the bag is starting to shake and wobble as the soprano realises that the situation is critical, none of which really helps matters. At last Rigoletto lets go of me and starts feeling for the ankles in the sack, which are probably now rather less easy to find, since there's a tiny bit of a panic going on in there...

Well, I did keep her clear of the rock-face, but somehow I doubt if it was quite the smoothest landing she'd ever experienced.

Brilliant, Ron! That's really made me chuckle!  

I'm somehow reminded of the (apocryphal?) story of the Tosca who leapt from the battlements of Castel Sant'Angelo only to land not on mattresses, but on a trampoline planted there by vindictive stage hands!

Operacat, wasn't TH replaced by BT at the Barbican last month? Did you go to this concert, and was it good?