Who knows where the time goes? Six decades ago and counting, one 12-year-old James Conlon of Queens, New York, made his professional debut as the mama’s boy with his heart set on a toy trumpet and a horsey in Act Two of Puccini’s La Bohème. In 1972, at age 21, still in his final year at the Juilliard School, that same James Conlon conducted La Bohème. He’d been conducting rehearsals for the Metropolitan Opera’s glamorous Thomas Schippers, who was unwell; and Maria Callas, who was in town for her historic masterclasses, had dropped in to watch him in action. On her say-so, Juilliard handed Conlon the baton. Jump cut to the present and find Conlon in the home stretch of his tenure as music director of the LA Opera. For two decades, he has regaled the city with consistent world-class excellence, left no corner of the international repertoire unexplored, and built an ardent and informed fan base with riveting pre-performance talks that draw SRO crowds. (His international career in the symphonic realm has been just as distinguished and less chockablock, but that’s another story.) For now, let’s note that Conlon is making his farewell with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. From late April into June, he leads back-to-back productions of the operatic swan songs of Mozart and Verdi, of whose legacy Conlon has been one of his generation’s most inspiring custodians. Verdi’s Falstaff is up first (April 18 to May 10), with Craig Colclough’s Plump Jack leading the romp. And then—fanfares in E-flat major please!—journey with James into the Masonic labyrinth of Mozart’s The Magic Flute as staged by the wizardly Barrie Kosky (May 30 to June 21). All this, plus the de rigueur star-studded gala (April 24). Way to go, James! Thanks for the memories! We love you! Don’t be a stranger! —Matthew Gurewitsch