What Kitchen Confidential did for restaurants, Mark Gould’s Tales from the Pit does for the Metropolitan Opera.
Mark Gould, former co-principal trumpet of the Met Orchestra for nearly three decades, pulls back the gold-leaf curtain on one of the world’s most storied—and most secretive—musical institutions. In this fearless, hilarious, and deeply human memoir, Gould recounts what it’s really like to spend 29 years buried beneath the stage in the biggest opera house on earth, sharing close quarters with world-famous singers, half-crazed conductors, dysfunctional brass sections, and enough backstage drama to rival anything happening onstage.
From his first terrifying solo call in Pagliacci, nearly derailed by a rampaging baritone and a bass drum solo gone rogue, to the ghostly shadow of a homeless man screaming “That was the f*ing Pilgrim’s Chorus from Tannhäuser!” as his accordion is flattened by a bus on Broadway—Gould’s stories are as outrageous as they are poignant.
Inside these pages, you’ll meet:
James Levine, the musical titan whose career ended in scandal, and whose rise and fall is charted in gripping, unflinching detail. Carlos Kleiber, the elusive genius who conducted with the charisma of a prophet and the unpredictability of a storm. Luciano Pavarotti, a “tortured genius” whose voice shook the rafters—and whose backstage behavior could leave jaws on the floor. Kathleen Battle, a “diva’s diva,” whose reputation for unpredictability made her both revered and feared. Placido Domingo, Jon Vickers, Richard Tucker, Carlo Bergonzi, Leontyne Price, and many more, in portraits as vivid as they are honest. You’ll also descend into the infamous MET trumpet section, where:
Mel Broiles reigned as “commander and general,” chain-smoking, bourbon-swigging, and terrifying everyone within earshot. Harry Peers (a.k.a. “Weird Beard”) fell off chairs mid-performance and annotated trumpet parts in Cyrillic—while high. Lynn Berman once loaned Chet Baker a trumpet that immediately got pawned for heroin and introduced Leonard Bernstein to hash. Vincent Penzarella handled solos with a “don’t-look-down” intensity that kept everyone on edge. There’s even a chapter titled “Playing Impaired” dedicated to the MET’s legendary drinkers (including one who ran nude down a New York street after being woken by the click of a revolver), and unforgettable tales of backstage chaos, trumpet trauma, late-night antics, flying chairs, derailed entrances, and stage calls gone hilariously wrong.
And through it all, Gould shares his deep love for the music—the swing of Verdi, the soul of Puccini, the thrill of Mahler fanfares—and his heartbreak at watching a grand tradition buckle under the weight of the 21st century.
Tales from the Pit is a no-holds-barred, laugh-out-loud, gasp-in-disbelief insider account of life in the world’s greatest opera house. It’s an homage to the grandeur of the art form and an exposé of the beautiful mess behind it. For musicians, opera lovers, and fans of wild backstage memoirs—this book is your front-row seat.
Mark Gould was co-principal trumpet for the Metropolitan Opera for 29 years. You don't have to be a trumpet player (which I am) or an opera fan (which I am not) to enjoy this book. Loads of great stories and commentary which make this an interesting read. There are a few sentences requiring an occassional re-read which could have been clarified with more judicious editing, but this is a small complaint for a really enjoyable book.
3.5 stars rounded up, because opera. I listened on Audible. The author narrated. He was great.
One thing I didn't realize (because I wasn't paying attention) is that while the book is a 2025 release, the author's time in the Met Orchestra was from 1974-2003. This (as you'll learn from the book) was an interesting era at the Met, but if you're looking for how things are in the equally interesting time now, you won't find it here.
The reviews that compare this to Kitchen Confidential are pretty spot on. These are stories of the underbelly of opera. There are cameos from the stars of opera, but this book isn't about them. Still, I appreciated this for what it was.
The one thing that bothered me more than anything else was the light touch given the various conductors and artists with #metoo problematic behavior, such as Levine--to the point of implying that Levine might have been set up by Peter Gelb. I know all of this is complicated, but yes, I absolutely believe that someone's awful behavior should diminish my esteem of their musical genius. At least Gould mentioned it.
What I did like was that this was a story of someone not from the opera world who entered into it for 30 years and fell in love with it. He ends the book with an idea for "saving opera", which was a bit of a hot take. But at least he cares enough to want to save opera.