Pez powder fruit salad, for the soprano who is too modest for Deci Dela.
There’s something sharp and high-pitched about it, yet sweet–the aria where the ingenue laments in white while holding a dagger.
Loud in personal space with spicy pomegranate and sour cherry dust, and good in the afternoon with a glass of rosé, (which, like Quel Amour! and opera, gives a headache if over indulged.)
Cool pandemic art. (Annie Lennox is not shrill.)