‘Loving v. Virginia’ and ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ Reviews: Opera Couples in Crisis

The Virginia Opera and the Richmond Symphony presented Damien Geter’s new opera about the landmark Supreme Court case striking down bans on interracial marriage; at the Met, John Adams’s Shakespeare adaptation is much improved from its 2022 premiere in San Francisco.

By 

Heidi Waleson

May 14, 2025 at 4:09 pm ET

Flora Hawk and Jonathan Michie

Flora Hawk and Jonathan Michie PHOTO: DAVE PEARSON

Richmond, Va.

To celebrate its 50th anniversary, the Virginia Opera teamed up with the Richmond Symphony to commission a work with a state-centric story. Damien Geter’s “Loving v. Virginia,” which had its world-premiere performances in three Virginia venues, including the Dominion Energy Center here last weekend, depicts the landmark 1967 Supreme Court decision that struck down Virginia’s prohibition against interracial marriage. Following the passage of the Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act in previous years, Loving represented yet another important step toward the legal enshrinement of full civil rights for all Americans.

In Jessica Murphy Moo’s libretto, the title also represents the personal struggle of Mildred and Richard Loving, a black woman and a white man whose 1958 marriage (performed in Washington, where it was legal) put them at odds with their beloved home state. These quiet country people wanted only to live peacefully; instead, they were arrested, jailed and, after being compelled to plead guilty to a felony, forbidden to be in the state at the same time for 25 years. Several years later, unhappy in their urban exile in Washington, Mildred Loving finally asked for help, first from attorney general Robert Kennedy and then from the American Civil Liberties Union, where Bernard Cohen took their case.

The opera’s construction neatly demonstrates this tension. The Lovings’ story unfolds in counterpoint to a masked, eight-voice Law Chorus that robotically recites the rules they are breaking. In one of the most theatrical scenes, choristers representing employees at the Virginia Marriage License Bureau chant “Know the code.” It’s a rhythmic, catchy number that demonstrates how easily individuals can be swallowed up in process. (The Lovings’ marriage license is declared “Against the Code!”)

Ms. Moo’s language can veer toward windiness (“Cicadas electrify the air”; “We carry the weight of our histories”), and Mr. Geter’s solo vocal writing is less distinctive than his music for chorus and orchestra, which features arresting trumpet riffs at salient moments. But the Lovings are affecting and believable in their diffidence and their commitment to each other. The production, by Denyce Graves-Montgomery, once a noted mezzo-soprano, is tight and thoughtful, working with Mikiko Suzuki MacAdams’s minimalist set—two simple rear projections depicting the country and the city; movable elements including bleachers, desks, and a couple of doors and kitchen tables. Xavier Pierce did the apt lighting; Jessica Jahn the modest period costumes.

Flora Hawk was a poignant Mildred, albeit with a tendency toward shrillness in the upper registers of her soprano; baritone Jonathan Michie brought out Richard’s inarticulate frustration. As Cohen, baritone Troy Cook gave the young lawyer brash New York energy and confidence. Phillip Bullock and Melody Wilson were moving as Mildred’s parents; with her sumptuous mezzo, Alissa Anderson shone as Richard’s mother. Benjamin Werley’s high tenor was suitably noxious for both villains—the sheriff who arrests the Lovings and the judge who convicts them. Adam Turner was the capable conductor of the estimable Richmond Symphony in this suitably unpretentious work about modest people who catalyzed a seismic change.


Gerald Finley and Julia Bullock in ‘Antony and Cleopatra.’

Gerald Finley and Julia Bullock in ‘Antony and Cleopatra.’ PHOTO: KAREN ALMOND/MET OPERA

New York

I saw the world premiere of John Adams’s “Antony and Cleopatra” at the San Francisco Opera in September 2022; at its Metropolitan Opera premiere on Monday, it felt like a completely different show. With 20 minutes trimmed from the score, the composer in the pit, and soprano Julia Bullock, the Cleopatra for whom the role was written, on the stage (she dropped out in 2022 due to pregnancy), this “Antony” had all the drama and pathos it was missing the first time around.

Mr. Adams adapted his libretto from Shakespeare’s play. In San Francisco, it seemed dutiful and flaccid; in New York, with the music organically driving the words and the heaving orchestra expressing the characters’ feelings, you could feel the poetry and theatrical propulsion of the original text. Scenes were carefully shaped and not allowed to run on. Under Mr. Adams’s baton, the Met Orchestra’s pinpoint clarity in this complex score, heightened by the tangy resonance of the cimbalom, a hammered dulcimer, made it an essential part of the story.

Most important, the relationship of the title lovers snapped into focus. Ms. Bullock’s charismatic acting and vivid range of vocal colorations captured Cleopatra’s mercurial allure; as Antony, bass-baritone Gerald Finley was more the virile warrior and less the washed-up soldier that he was in San Francisco. Each of their scenes together had a different energy: the sexy playfulness at the beginning; their joyous confederacy before the battle of Actium; Antony’s raging bitterness—and forgiveness—after each of Cleopatra’s betrayals; her howl of grief at his death. 

Their new strength rebalanced the role of Caesar (the forceful tenor Paul Appleby) in this power triangle. Previously, his youthful vigor stole the show; here, the complexity of the lovers offered a potent antidote to his naked ambition. Standout supporting singers included Jarrett Ott, who brought a robust baritone and sympathetic affect to his Met debut as the Roman Agrippa; as Eros, a follower of Antony, Brenton Ryan’ssweet tenor shone, especially in the quasi-comic scene where he informs Cleopatra that Antony has married Octavia. As Enobarbus, Antony’s lieutenant, bass-baritone Alfred Walker’s elegiac moments added texture to the tragedy, as did the husky low mezzos of the three supporting women—Taylor Raven (also a debut) and Eve Gigliottias Cleopatra’s attendants Charmian and Iras and Elizabeth DeShong as Octavia.

Elkhanah Pulitzer’s production, set in the 1930s, seemed more focused here, its period nods to Italian fascism and Hollywood glamour supporting the narrative rather than standing in the foreground. Mimi Lien designed the sets; Constance Hoffman the costumes; David Finn the lighting; Bill Morrison the projections. Annie-B Parson’schoreography brought a “Red Detachment of Women” energy to the military displays; the Battle of Actium was still unclear. Mr. Adams’s operas are written with amplification in mind and Mark Grey’s sound design needs some tweaks for good balance in the Met. But the piece is a keeper.

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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