Nymphs, pirates and a wizard feature in this year’s edition of the festival in upstate New York, which offers a balanced rendition of ‘La Calisto,’ a vibrant production of ‘The Pirates of Penzance’ and a premiere of the youth opera ‘Rumpelstiltskin and the Unlovable Children.’
By
Heidi Waleson
Aug. 14, 2024 at 4:52 pm ET
Tshilidzi Ndou and Craig Irvin in ‘The Pirates of Penzance.’
PHOTO: BRENT DELANOY/THE GLIMMERGLASS FESTIVAL
Cooperstown, N.Y.
The highlight of this season’s Glimmerglass Festival, a beguiling production of Francesco Cavalli’s “La Calisto” (1651), recalled the 1990s—when the company, then headed by Paul Kellogg, did a Baroque opera every year, setting off a vogue that other American houses would follow. Its 1996 “Calisto” featured Christine Goerke, now a renowned singer of Strauss and Wagner, among the leads. This year’s staging featured a stylish orchestral realization, including a few tastefully deployed wind and brass instruments, by Rob Ainsley, now in his second season as the festival’s artistic and general director. Mr. Ainsley conducted with brio from the keyboard with the support of a sensitive continuo section.
Craig Irvin and Emilie Kealani in ‘La Calisto.’PHOTO: SOFIA NEGRON / GLIMMERGLASS FESTIVAL
The show carefully balanced the opera’s serious and comic depictions of love. Jove disguises himself as the goddess Diana in order to have his way with Calisto, one of her virgin nymphs; Juno, Jove’s consort, is jealous; Endymion, a shepherd, is in love with Diana, who is tempted by him; Linfea, another nymph, is curious about sex. Emilie Kealani’s light, delicate soprano was ideal for the innocent Calisto, effectively contrasted with Taylor Raven’s voluptuous-toned Diana—both the real one and Jove-in-disguise. Mezzo SarahAnn Duffy, stepping in for an indisposed colleague, was poignant as the lovelorn Endymion; her tenderly passionate duets with Ms. Raven were high points in the show. Eve Gigliotti brought a ferocious intensity to Juno, who turns Calisto into a bear. Amanda Sheriff’s bright soprano and hilariously lewd acting and dancing turned the Young Satyr into a potent scene-stealer. As Jove, Craig Irvin was properly imperious, though less vocally stylish than the other singers.
Mo Zhou (director), Charlie Corcoran (sets) and Amith Chandrashaker (lighting) devised a simple but effective abstract production using drops and lines of light. Carlos Soto’s handsome costumes nodded at superheroes and the 1930s. Five dancers, ebulliently choreographed by Eric Sean Fogel, did speedy costume changes to appear as nymphs, satyrs and furies.
“The Pirates of Penzance” (1879) also conjured the past; it was the company’s first Gilbert & Sullivan title since 2006. The orchestra sounded bright and snappy under Joseph Colaneri, the words were clear, and Seán Curran’s witty directing and choreography kept the stage pictures fizzing. Along with James Schuette’s simple, primary-colored sets and period costumes, plus Robert Wierzel’s cheery lighting, the production captured the operetta’s satirical fun without exaggerating it.
Mr. Irvin was splendid as the Pirate King, with a big, booming baritone and an easy physicality that made the choreography look easy. Elizabeth Sutphen brought sparkling coloratura and a sympathetic lyricism to Mabel. Ms. Gigliotti was luxury casting as Ruth, pairing a sumptuous mezzo and lively comedic skills. As Frederic, tenor Christian Mark Gibbs did not quite match their vocal splendor, but his deft acting and flair for physical comedy made up for it. As Major-General Stanley, Troy Cook tossed off his patter song with aplomb. Joshua Thomas was a properly dour Sergeant of Police, and baritone Tshilidzi Ndou (Samuel) stood out among the pirates. The chorus was excellent, and the choreography was so skillful that one could not tell which members were primarily singers and which were dancers.
John Chest and Tara Erraught in ‘Elizabeth Cree.’
PHOTO: BRENT DELANOY/THE GLIMMERGLASS FESTIVAL
In “Elizabeth Cree” (2017), Mark Campbell’s libretto combines a series of Jack the Ripper murders with the Victorian music hall, a poisoner’s murder trial, an ambitious policeman, a cross-dressing title character, and a final plot twist that we can see coming a mile away. But unlike Stephen Sondheim’s “Sweeney Todd,” which has a similarly Grand Guignol premise, the dense, repetitive storytelling produces a piece of soulless clockwork. Some of Kevin Puts’s music is pretty: The music-hall tunes are catchy, and there’s a nice, wistful ensemble—sung in the British Museum reading room, of all places—that has no discernible relationship to the plot. But the music throughout seems illustrative rather than essential.
Even with her eloquent mezzo and acting skills, Tara Erraught was unable to make the title character compelling. As John Cree, John Chest’s mellifluous baritone brought a surprising warmth to the gruesome narrations of the murders that his character supposedly commits. Mr. Gibbs was lively as Dan Leno, the music-hall paterfamilias; as Aveline, music-hall warbler turned maid, Ms. Sutphen brightened up the musical texture. Kelly Kuo conducted. Alison Moritz’s production made sense of the fast transitions (30 scenes in 100 minutes), aided by Amanda Seymour’s period costumes, Kate Ashton’s moody lighting, and Edward T. Morris’s versatile, revolving set, which served variously as a stage, a courtroom, a living room and the policeman’s office.
Troy Cook and Amber Monroe in ‘Pagliacci.’
PHOTO: SOFIA NEGRON / GLIMMERGLASS FESTIVAL 2024
With the recent rethinking of the opera canon, perhaps it’s time to consider re-examining Leoncavallo’s “Pagliacci” (1892), which is an unsubtle chronicle of domestic violence. Brenna Corner’s production was certainly brutal enough. In her concept, Tonio, later in life, looks back on the opera’s events; presumably he is sorry for the role he played in them. Before singing his Prologue, he wanders through a dark, cluttered shed (James Rotondo designed the set; Erik Teague the costumes) shining a flashlight on heaps of crates and pulling dustcloths off the caravans once used by the comedians’ troupe. Then Mr. Wierzel’s lighting flashes on, crowds of townspeople—performed by local choir and children’s chorus members—stream onstage from the back of the auditorium, and the show begins.
Mr. Cook, in a marked contrast to his witty Major-General in “Pirates,” maintained Tonio’s bitter savagery throughout. Amber R. Monroe (Nedda) and Jonathan Patton (Silvio) were big-voiced and one-dimensional; we never felt Nedda’s sense of claustrophobia and entrapment or Silvio’s ardor. Robert Stahley’s Canio was pure brutality; his “Vesti la giubba” was all self-pity despite his imposing instrument. Fran Daniel Laucerica (Peppe), with his light, pretty tenor, inhabited his play-within-a-play role (Arlecchino); he fit right in with the interpolated trio of buoyant commedia dell’arte clowns. Conductor Christian Olson, substituting for an indisposed Mr. Colaneri, ably kept the show on track.
For the season’s new youth opera, “Rumplestiltskin and the Unlovable Children,” librettist Cecelia Raker turned the fairy-tale villain into a hero dad—a family-loving wizard who collects kids who would otherwise be neglected. It’s plot-light and message-heavy, possibly a bit obscure for the youngest audiences. (Even Mr. Rotondo’s set sent a message—it was made up of books.) But the large ensemble of children and teens did excellent work with Jens Ibsen’s sophisticated choral writing and featured roles. Bass-baritone Evan Lazdowski (Rumplestiltskin) and soprano Catherine Thornsley (Queen), both Glimmerglass Young Artists, were impressive; conductor Kimberley-Ann Bartczak, principal coach/pianist Laura Bleakley and director Joshua R. Horowitz ably corralled the young cast.
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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