Now available to watch online, the Atlanta Opera’s in-person performances embraced Covid-19 restrictions as a creative challenge.
By Heidi Waleson
Jan. 20, 2021 1:21 pm ET
The Atlanta Opera has been one of the few American companies to perform live for in-person audiences during the Covid-19 pandemic. Last fall, using a custom-built, open-sided tent situated on a university baseball field and following rigorous coronavirus protocols, the company gave 17 performances of two one-act operas—Leoncavallo’s “Pagliacci” and Viktor Ullman’s “The Kaiser of Atlantis,” played on alternate days—as well as three concerts. The salaried Atlanta Opera Company Players—a dozen top singers who live in the Atlanta area—and the six members of its young artist program comprise the casts of all the company’s live and digital events.
Films of the live operas and concerts, plus some additional videos, are being distributed on the company’s new Spotlight Media platform , at various price points. “Kaiser,” which is available now, along with the “Mezzo Extravaganza” concert, demonstrates how imaginative direction can harness Covid restrictions for artistic effect.
Ullmann’s sardonic 60-minute opera, with a libretto by Peter Kien, was composed in 1943 in the Nazi “show” camp Terezín but not performed until 1975 (the creators were killed in Auschwitz). The circus-themed production is directed by Tomer Zvulun, the company’s general and artistic director, with scenic design by Julia Noulin-Mérat, costumes by Joanna Schmink, and lighting by Ben Rawson. It skillfully juxtaposes Holocaust references (mountains of discarded shoes) with the visual signals of our current plague era (masks and four movable booths with clear vinyl sides). Singers inside the booths wear no masks; outside them, other singers and circus performers, all masked, stagger through a seemingly toxic landscape. The despotic Kaiser’s reign has produced a land where life and death are equally meaningless. Drunk with power, he decrees a total war that will kill everyone, but Death, angry at not being consulted, goes on strike. As a result, the populace, afflicted by battle and disease, cannot die.
The vinyl barriers visually separate perpetrators from victims; the face coverings, like Death’s black-edged teeth, the Soldier’s sci-fi mesh visor, and the gas masks in the “Dance of the Living Dead,” make vivid costume pieces. Although masking results in slightly muffled vocal production, and it is not always obvious who is singing, Jon Summers’s skillful sound design and Felipe Barral’s creative camera work keep the audio balanced and the story clear. Mr. Zvulun’s sensitive direction leavens the nightmarish satire with humanity. Even the Kaiser (the mellifluous baritone Michael Mayes ), who finally leaves his booth and submits to Death in order to end the world’s agony, is strangely pitiable as he sings his lament of failure.
The luxury cast includes mezzo Daniela Mack, powerful and bellicose as the Drummer, tenor Alek Shrader as the plaintive Harlequin, and bass Kevin Burdette as the sepulchral Death, alternately taunting and soothing. As the Girl and the Soldier, Jasmine Habersham’s bright soprano and Brian Vu’s urgent baritone make the pair’s quick switch from enemies to lovers believable, and bass-baritone Calvin Griffin is skillful as the Loudspeaker, who has the unenviable job of telling the Kaiser bad news from outside his bubble. Four circus performers (including a knife-thrower and stilt-walker) and two dancers supply motion and color that make up for the distancing requirements of the staging, and the 12-member orchestra, led by Clinton Smith, proves adept at both the Kurt Weill-like edginess and the Mahlerian pathos of the score. “Pagliacci” will be available starting Jan. 22.
The four divas of the Nov. 10 “Mezzo Extravaganza” concert— Jamie Barton, Daniela Mack, Megan Marino, and Gabrielle Beteag —manage to connect with their audience and each other despite occupying separate vinyl booths. Colorfully patterned dresses and chatty introductions help, as do the mostly light-hearted repertoire and the singers’ distinctive vocal and theatrical personalities. Ms. Mack stands out with her voluptuous yet penetrating timbre; she is mesmerizing in pieces ranging from a smoky zarzuela to Rossini’s comic girl power aria “Cruda sorte!” from “L’Italiana in Algeri.” Ms. Barton unleashes a torrent of chest voice and high drama for “O vagabonda stella” from Cilea’s “ Adriana Lecouvreur, ” a marked contrast to Ms. Marino’s lighter sound in a wistful rendition of the traditional Scottish song “ Loch Lomond. ” Ms. Beteag, though a bit more generic in her interpretations than the other three, gives a rousing rendition of the Witch’s aria from Humperdinck’s “Hansel und Gretel” with aplomb. For the final group, each mezzo tackles an aria from Bizet’s “Carmen,” demonstrating how many different interpretations are possible for this familiar character. I was particularly struck by Ms. Marino’s bleak, naked performance of “En vain pour éviter”; this Carmen sees her coming death with a fatalistic chill. Atlanta Opera plans to present “Carmen,” along with Weill’s “Threepenny Opera,” live in the tent in April. Any one of these mezzos could be its star.
Also on Spotlight Media are “Love Letters to Atlanta,” a series of affecting short films, each showcasing one of the Atlanta Opera Company Players singing a classic song in a famous Atlanta space. Engaging interviews with Mr. Zvulun draw out the singers’ stories and connections to the spaces and the songs—bass Morris Robinson, for example, recalls his father telling him how “we” (that is, Black people) once had to enter the Fox Theater via exterior stairs that led to the balcony. Mr. Robinson then fills that theater’s space with “The Impossible Dream.” In her film, Ms. Barton does the same with an eloquent rendition of “Georgia on My Mind”; in his, Mr. Burdette talks about tradition at the vast Atlanta Civic Center Auditorium, once the home of the Metropolitan Opera tour. His song is “If Ever I Would Leave You.” For now, these international singers are not able to leave, and their home company is smart to embrace and showcase them.
—Ms. Waleson writes on opera for the Journal and is the author of “Mad Scenes and Exit Arias: The Death of the New York City Opera and the Future of Opera in America” (Metropolitan).
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