Pasha, a dog who believes herself to be beautiful and perfect, joins the company of "Manon" at New York's Metropolitan Opera House, but on opening night she cannot resist singing along with the diva.
Coauthors Marshall Izen and Jim West with their 2004 picture book The Dog Who Sang at the Opera, they do an absolutely wonderful and engaging textual job delightfully and also with quite a bit of humour alongside of some necessary and apt messages against arrogance and snobbery (and with The Dog Who Sang at the Opera being in my opinion perfect for both reading aloud and also for independent perusals and thus meant for readers and listeners from about the ages of four to nine or ten) showing and describing how the main protagonist of The Dog Who Sang at the Opera, how Russian wolfhound Pasha has an extremely, has an exaggeratedly inflated and lofty opinion of herself, how she knows and also lets everyone around her know that she is beautiful, the she is perfect, how Pasha is continuously preening, bragging, is basically just completely and frustratingly full of herself. And while dogs of course and in reality cannot and do not talk, having Pasha in The Dog Who Sang at the Opera be shown by Izen and West as not only conversing with Sluggo the clown dog with extreme condescension (at least at first) but also peppering her dialogue with French and Russian vocabulary, this certainly further cements and demonstrates Pasha's holier and higher than thou attitude (and that according to Pasha, Irish wolfhounds are canine royalty and as such naturally and inherently superior).
Therefore, when in The Dog Who Sang at the Opera Pasha's owner Shirley (who works backstage as a pianist and singing instructor at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York City) comes home with the news that Pasha is wanted on stage for a crowd scene during Jules Massenet's opera Manon, she is happy but is also not at all surprised, since well and indeed, Pasha (according to herself) always belongs at the centre of attention. And naturally and to be expected from how right from the textual onset of The Dog Who Sang at the Opera Marshall Izen and Jim West have been describing and textually showing Pasha and her character, yes, at rehearsals, Pasha arrogantly and majorly snubs and looks down her aristocratically pointed Irish wolfhound nose at the already mentioned Sluggo (who as a clown dog is actually a seasoned Metropolitan Opera performer but who is considered a boor and majorly lesser by Pasha because he is diminutive, is a mongrel and oh horror works as a clown), and in fact, she (Pasha) even has a dream of wearing the opera singer playing the role of Manon, of wearing the diva's red dress and winning applause singing solo on stage. And yes indeed, illustrator Erika Oller's picture in The Dog Who Sang at the Opera of Pasha clad in a red dress and singing an opera aria to much applause and adoration most definitely is visually fun and does a very nicely expressive job visually, aesthetically mirroring Izen and West's text regarding Pasha's dream (as in fact is the case with ALL of Oller's accompanying artwork for The Dog Who Sang at the Opera, as her pictures delightfully compliment Marshall Izen's and Jim Wests' writing and vice versa, although personally speaking, I do kind of wish that Erika Oller's illustrations of Pasha were not so gigantic and that the diva were not depicted as stereotypical overweight and as such rather ugly and over-imposing).
But well, when in The Dog Who Sang at the Opera during the premiere of Massenet's Manon Pasha, standing next to the diva during a pivotal scene on stage, actually tries to turn her dream into reality and starts breaking into song, starts loudly howling along with the diva, Pasha is unceremoniously dragged off stage with the audience tittering and laughing and naturally feels both chastised and humiliated. With Sluggo comforting her, Pasha is grateful for the clown dog's empathy and support, finally realises and accepts that there is more to life than pedigrees, that Sluggo is thus not a lesser underling but in fact an equal and even possible friendship material. And although Pasha's on stage performance, albeit Pasha singing with the diva on stage actually garners the Met its best and most lasting publicity in years, Pasha is pretty much cured of her annoying snobbery and arrogance by what has happened, stops being so insufferably full of herself, and with The Dog Who Sang at the Opera thus not only featuring a fun story and a bit of a picture book introduction to the world of opera (and a scenario that according to the extensive back matter for The Dog Who Sang at the Opera is actually based on a true event Marshall Izen and James West experienced while on stage as puppeteers at the Metropolitan Opera, and where during a performance of Manon an Irish wolfhound named Pasha did in fact and indeed try to upstage American soprano Renée Fleming with her howling) but also playfully and expressively presenting an important and necessary textual criticism of snobbery and that pedigree derived arrogance is simply wrong, wrong, wrong. A delightful, surprisingly sweet and humorous combination of text and images is The Dog Who Sang at the Opera, with four stars and warmly recommended by me and that the only reason for my rating for The Dog Who Sang at the Opera not being five stars is that I do not always find Erika Oller's illustrations completely to my liking (and that especially the already mentioned visual proportions of both Pasha and the diva in Oller's artwork do kind of aesthetically grate on me rather a a bit).
We lost our beloved Marshall Izen today. This is such a fun and delightful book, and he spent many years seeing it to publication. It's about a real dog, who upstaged a great soprano on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera on a night Marshall was working on puppetry for the production. Everyone who reads the book is enchanted by it. R.I.P. Marshall.
This is a true story. It was written up in newspapers across the country. Children will enjoy it. Once again, I love the pictures. I read it to present to a classroom in an elementary school and howled like a dog during the presentation.
Based on a true story, this is about a supernumerary (small bit part in an opera) dog who sang along with the soprano Renee Fleming one night. And yes, I got paid to read this for work!