In the past three months, Metropolitan Opera audiences have seen more exploding galleons, clashing armies and airborne tenors than they did in the thousand-and-one nights at the old house. Last week the Met staged its new production of Lohengrin, and it, too, was a shockernot for spectacle, but for lack of it. The stage was virtually stripped clean of scenery. Choristers stood in rigid rows like drill teams awaiting inspection; principal singers stirred hardly at all, and when they did, it was with the slow, deliberate movements of dream figures. The audience...
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