Rating: 
Summary: A witty and insightful look at the "opera racket" today
Review: Judging from other customer comments, Manuela Hoelterhoff and her new book certainly have ticked off a lot of people. Not me. This is the most entertaining book on the opera business that I have read in some time. It is also one of the most revealing and insightful. As those who read (past tense) Ms. Hoelterhoff's music criticism in the Wall Street Journal know, she writes with pungency, wit, and a genuine flair for turning a phrase - literary talents which often, though not always, compensate for a lack of real critical insight or profound musical understanding of the works or performances under review. It follows that the weakest parts of this book are when the author is writing about music itself. (Do we really need all those silly little thumbnail plot summaries of operas?) Hoelterhoff's greatest strengths are as a reporter, observer and chronicler, and as that is mostly what she does here, it is enough. Some may find Hoelterhoff's humor catty. Perhaps it is, but it is also very funny. I laughed out loud often while reading this book. I, too, could have done with fewer fat jokes, but I also think a singer's size is a legitimate subject for commentary. He or she is, after all, a performer, and grossly excess weight can detract from the artistic impression on stage. (Can one imagine Jane Eaglen singing Madama Butterfly?)Although nominally about mezzo-soprano superstar Cecilia Bartoli, "Cinderella and Company" is more about the Company than about Cinderella. Bartoli's fans may be disappointed, but this focus suits me fine. Bartoli is a fine artist, but she does not sound like a particularly interesting person, and she certainly has not had a career that in length, variety or artistic significance would warrant an entire book about her, except in her manager's dreams. (In fact, I had no interest in reading this book until I heard that it was about much more than C.B.) Instead, Hoelterhoff has written an inside look at the music business itself, and at the creators (manufacturers?) of superstardom in the world of opera today - the agents, promoters, publicists, record companies and opera administrators who shape public perception of opera singers and who actually get the show/singer "on the road," or on stage. Bartoli and her career are not so much the central subject of the book as they are the recurring theme in a rondo. The main characters here are the "supporting cast" behind the scenes: Herbert Breslin, the Big P.'s manager; Matthew Epstein, promoter/concert organizer extraordinare; Jack Mastroianni, Bartoli's manager; and Met director Joseph Volpe. The "opera racket," as Virgil Thomson might have called it, has changed significantly in the past thirty years. Time was, in Ze Oldt Days, when an opera singer's reputation was actually made on the opera stage - in performance. Recordings were important to a big career, but they generally followed success in the opera house rather than preceded it. Now, "superstars" are packaged, promoted, marketed, videoed, digitized, mega-concertized (viz. the Three Tenors), and sold to a generally ignorant opera public who think that if they have seen the singer on TV, they must be hearing a great performance by a great singer. Lusty, cheering standing ovations are now common for mediocre singing. Who, we are asked breathlessly, will be the "fourth tenor?" Could it be Roberto Alagna? or is it Andrea Bocelli with his pea-sized voice that couldn't project to the back of Marie Antoinette's tiny theatre at Versailles? Are we supposed to care about this or think it is important? Lots of people with lots of money at stake would like us to think it is. Cecilia Bartoli represents the modern opera superstar redux: a singer whose phenomenal success and fame is based largely on promotion, recordings and hype, rather than performance. To be sure, the lady has talent and a lovely, if tiny, voice, considerable charm and appeal, and a nice smile. But do the contents of the package really justify all the hoopla and hysteria? There is something out of whack, almost grotesque, about a singer receiving a roaring, standing ovation for a performance as Despina, of all roles. Underneath all the anecdotes, the witty (yes, I found them so) comments, and dishy gossip (some of it mean, but then gossip usually is), Hoelterhoff is examining how this happens, and who makes it happen. The resulting picture, though entertaining, is not a pretty one and calls to mind the old saw about how political policy is like sausage: it is best not to watch how it is made. The same could be said for much of what goes on in opera today. (Speaking of sausage, it is much to Ms. Bartoli's credit, as recounted here, that she apparently drew the line at the "Today Show" wanting to film her buying one - presumably to show that opera singers are "just folks" too.) The most telling chapter in the book is the one entitled, "Queen of the Met." No, not Bartoli (at best, only a lady-in-waiting), but Renata Tebaldi, a real, larger-than-life diva from the past. Well over twenty years after her last appearance in New York, we see hundreds of devoted fans standing in line for hours to greet her and get her autograph. The outpouring of genuine love and devotion for Tebaldi, a truly great singer, is deeply moving and stands as a sharp rebuke to the crass, slick, shallow PR apparatus that manufactures opera celebrities today. Would Tebaldi have looked good enough on TV to have made a big career in the 1990's? After reading this book, one wonders. One thing is certain: no one would have dared ask to film her buying a sausage.
Rating: 
Summary: Not Terribly Interesting
Review: Manuela Hoelterhoff is a gifted writer. She has an ear for the well-aimed zinger, and an instinct for the vulnerable point. This soon becomes rather tiring; one longs for nourishment amid all the verbal puff pastry. What Cinderella & Co. really is about is the author's disdain for her subject, opera singers and the hoopla that surrounds them. Any personal foible is fair game. She was given the privilege of access to Bartoli and her entourage, and seemed to find Bartoli's human vulnerabilities contemptible, rather than marveling at her ability to excel at so fragile an art. Derision and contempt are flaunted under the thin guise of wit. What is the point of this exercise? Alas, a malicious spirit inhabits this book. A writer of Hoelterhoff's talents should have higher personal standards.
Rating:
Summary: What it's really like!
Review: Opera is a magical world, made by mere mortals. Hoelterhoff tells us how, with wit and understanding, it's done. The talent and the foibles. And it's fun to read!
Rating: 
Summary: Mildly Amusing but not Really About Bartoli
Review: Readers should be aware, at least, that this book is not a biography of, or even mainly about, Cecilia Bartoli. What the book should be called is "Backstage at the Opera With Manuela Hoelterhoff" and it should have a big picture of Hoelterhoff on the cover. There's nothing wrong with that. I read through it with some pleasure nevertheless. But Hoelterhoff concedes that Bartoli was not tremendously forthcoming about herself or anything else. Reading the descriptions of Hoelterhoff's encounters with Bartoli and family, one could get the sense that they didn't much like having this journalist around. Maybe they loved her, who knows? But you wouldn't know it. The encounters total perhaps seven. I could be wrong on the exact number but it was far from a long, intimate association. Personally, I also found that the much-advertised "wit" wore. Hoelterhoff's brand of catty glibness is not often actually funny in the 'this will make you laugh' sense of the word, if you're into that. I'd say there are about three little "witticisms" per page and maybe there are ten laughs in the book. That's a lot of non-funny jokes to get through. You won't be urging her to try to get on staff at Letterman anyway. I suspect her catty, punchy style is more congenial in a short space, such as a magazine article.
Rating:
Summary: Mildly Amusing but not Really About Bartoli
Review: Readers should be aware, at least, that this book is not a biography of, or even mainly about, Cecilia Bartoli. What the book should be called is "Backstage at the Opera With Manuela Hoelterhoff" and it should have a big picture of Hoelterhoff on the cover. There's nothing wrong with that. I read through it with some pleasure nevertheless. But Hoelterhoff concedes that Bartoli was not tremendously forthcoming about herself or anything else. Reading the descriptions of Hoelterhoff's encounters with Bartoli and family, one could get the sense that they didn't much like having this journalist around. Maybe they loved her, who knows? But you wouldn't know it. The encounters total perhaps seven. I could be wrong on the exact number but it was far from a long, intimate association. Personally, I also found that the much-advertised "wit" wore. Hoelterhoff's brand of catty glibness is not often actually funny in the 'this will make you laugh' sense of the word, if you're into that. I'd say there are about three little "witticisms" per page and maybe there are ten laughs in the book. That's a lot of non-funny jokes to get through. You won't be urging her to try to get on staff at Letterman anyway. I suspect her catty, punchy style is more congenial in a short space, such as a magazine article.
Rating:
Summary: Not the Best
Review: The author of title clearly must not like singers much. Cecilia Bartoli is but a minor character in this grand production, but again, very little insight into her world. There are some interesting moments, but few, and not an easy read given how Ms. Holeterhoff wanders. Granted, some of her scathing remarks about Kathleen Battle's behavior and Mr. P's divorce are warranted. Yet her hurtful comments about other singers and their weight trouble is particularly nasty. Keep looking.
Rating:
Summary: This is a tremendously fun and funny read.
Review: The book focuses mainly on Bartoli but any fan of opera will find favorites both admired and criticized in the text. The author managed to convey respect for the talent of the opera singers she represents, while at the same time pointing out their often absurd behavior. I love opera, but often think opera professionals and fans take their passion too seriously. This book reminded me that opera is FUN.
Rating:
Summary: A funny, fascinating book.
Review: This book amused me no end, and, as one who likes opera but knows little about the opera world, I found it quite informative. I decided to write this note after reading all the nasty reviews by the sourballs above. If you are a sourball, don't read this book. If you aren't you'll find that the five-star reviews are correct.
Rating: 
Summary: Opera 101
Review: This book belongs in the library of everyone with a passing interest in the world of opera, not so much for what it reveals about Ms. Bartoli (which is precious little except that she is perpetually in the midst of a family crisis), but because of Manuela Hoelterhoff's deliciously wicked, slightly skewed view of the art form that brings together the best, and worst, aspects of drama and music. Ms. Hoelterhoff's several years honing her word craft as opera reviewer for the Wall Street Journal were not wasted. She is masterful with a well-turned phrase, as shown in her description of a famous operatic manager, "a motor-mouthed, bullet-headed, forever-tan egomaniac who is adored and loathed in about equal proportions among those who've had the joy of doing business with him." And her knowledge of opera and singers is encyclopedic. Sometimes she is laugh-out-loud funny-her one run-on sentence synopsis of Bellini's La Straniera is a knee-slapper-other times, she elicits an internal smile, but always, she offers insightful commentary on the world of opera. (Her insider's view of Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu, for example, clarifies why they are the operatic couple everyone loves to hate.) Buy this book for your permanent library-and mark the passages that tickle your funny-bone so that you can find them quickly if you need to brighten your day. (If this book is had an index so that one can easily find his or her favorite parts, I would have given it five stars.)
Rating:
Summary: Dreadful and mean spirited
Review: This was a waste of money. Old opera gossip---especially hard on Kathleen Battle, Pavarotti, and anyone who is dead. The author claims to know and love opera but unless she believes the audience for the book is totally ignorant of even that which gets in the mainstream entertainment press about opera and its performers it is hard to tell from this book which has precious little useful critique of the operas or its performers and lots of picky, cranky observations. Most seems to be about personality or personal habits. Bartoli is definitely a sales hook, she doesn't show up in it much in any substantive way and is just mentioned frequently. One hilarious episode is when the author tries to get Bartoli as star of La Cenerentola (Cinderella) to go to the castle at Disneyworld. She could care less, she wants to see Epcot!!!! Inadvertently hilarious. You don't get much sense of Bartoli from this book and certainly don't hear about the people who thought the staging of her "Despina" role debut at the Met was too contrived and deformed the character's role into a sympathetic star turn and disrupted the opera's narrative structure. To the author it was one blaze of glory without dissent. There are much better books about opera and backstage than this. Give it a pass and spend your money on one of them.
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