AndyManshel.nyc

Spending some quality time with Phil Bean and the Central New York Parks Conservancy.

Countertenor Iestyn Davies and viol consort Fretwork perform songs and instrumental works by Purcell, Handel, Gesualdo, Byrd, and others. Get tickets.
— Read on www.carnegiehall.org/Calendar/2019/10/19/Fretwork-Iestyn-Davies-Countertenor-0730PM

Soft Power
— Read on publictheater.org/softpower

Boston Lyric Opera’s staging of Leoncavallo’s opera transformed the traveling theater troupe setting of the work into a circus.

ByHeidi Waleson

Sept. 30, 2019 5:12 pm ET

Boston

The itinerant Boston Lyric Opera has made a virtue out of its homeless state. It finds the right-sized venue for each work, and frequently transforms unexpected spaces into theaters, thereby providing fresh new perspectives on an old art form. Last week’s season opener was a staging of Leoncavallo’s “Pagliacci” at the DCR Steriti Memorial Rink in Boston’s North End. BLO transformed the traveling theater troupe setting of “Pagliacci” into a circus, creating an entire environment inside the rink. This ingenious production, directed by David Lefkowich, with set designs by Julia Noulin-Mérat, was intended to give the century-old verismo (slice-of-life) opera style the shock of the new. Could it make the audience feel as though we were watching a real onstage murder?

Not quite, but it was a fresh way to experience this operatic chestnut. Audience participation began an hour before the opera performance, when we were invited into a “fairground” set up with booths—a ring toss, a palm reader—as well as acrobats, clowns, a magician and other performers. It felt homemade, like a small-town event. We were then ushered into an orange-and-blue-striped circus tent, in which the semicircular seating came right up to the small thrust stage (the orchestra was positioned behind the singers).

The immediacy was further heightened by Charles Neumann’s modern-dress costumes; the colloquial (if occasionally awkward) English translation by Bill Bankes-Jones; action that flowed seamlessly from the stage into the audience; and especially by the excellent chorus members, including children, who sang and vividly acted their parts in the aisles and from regular spectator seats. Since the ensemble members are the audience of the play-within-the-play, who anticipate, heckle and finally witness the actor Canio’s murder of his unfaithful wife, Nedda, in the middle of the commedia dell’arte performance, this positioning, and their casual clothing, designed to blend, cleverly jolted the actual spectators into that role as well.

Mr. Lefkowich’s sharp directing, aided by David Angus’s well-paced conducting, zeroed in on the explosive interpersonal environment among the principal characters and the brutality it provokes. Baritone Michael Mayes was a singularly nasty Tonio, the Fool of the theater troupe, strutting his Prologue dressed as a ringmaster and later sexually assaulting Nedda. Tonio tells Canio about Nedda’s affair; he imbued the opera’s final line, “The comedy is finished,” with the lip-curling satisfaction of a plot well-executed. Lauren Michelle brought a pretty soprano and a touch of world-weariness to Nedda; her duet with baritone Tobias Greenhalgh, ardent and impetuous as her local-guy lover, Silvio, was imbued with a poignant hopefulness. It was the only passage sung in Italian, giving it even more of a fairy-tale quality; real life for the likes of Nedda is abuse and murder. (Silvio’s natty sweater and scholarly glasses also suggested that the two were not in the same social class.)

Rafael Rojas, who has an impressive, clarion tenor, played Canio as a domestic tyrant with a hair-trigger temper. The famous aria was imbued with self-pity; when he violently broke character in the middle of the play, twisting Nedda’s arm and demanding the name of her lover, it seemed completely realistic as well as horrifying. Tenor Omar Najmi was a nicely callow Beppe, coming into his own as the guitar-strumming Arlecchino in the play.

Other notable contributions came from aerialists Leah Abel and Molly Baechtold, who performed on hanging silks during the overture and the entr’acte music, and a parade of gaily dressed, kazoo-playing clown supernumeraries. Pablo Santiago’s lighting subtly moved the focus from the stage to the seats when necessary, and Anne Nesmith’s wigs and makeup, along with Mr. Neumann’s costumes, underlined the contrast between the elaborate artifice of the play and the ordinariness of real life. And even though I knew what was coming, when Mr. Greenhalgh ran onto the stage from his seat in the audience, and Ms. Michelle, throttled with a length of cloth, crumpled to the floor in her poufy, polka-dotted Colombina costume, I gasped along with the chorus.

—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).

Heidi’s Peace Corps service was in Banbari — featured in the story. Very brave reporter!

Met Opera. Domingo-less.

The Met’s uniformly well-cast new production of the famed American opera paints a vivid portrait of a complex place. 

ByHeidi WalesonSept. 24, 2019 5:30 pm ET

New York

In the 29 years since “Porgy and Bess”—by George Gershwin, DuBose and Dorothy Heyward, and Ira Gershwin —was last seen at the Metropolitan Opera, the piece has become almost an opera house staple, thanks in part to the much-traveled Francesca Zambello staging. The debate over whether it is a musical or an opera has surely been decided by now—but, if not, the sheer sonic grandeur of the Met’s new production (shared with the English National Opera and the Dutch National Opera), which opened the season on Monday, should do the trick. Additionally, the suggestion that the work traffics in racial stereotypes should be answered by the thoughtfulness of James Robinson ’s staging, which portrays Catfish Row as a rich, complex community, bound together by common values and beset by struggles that can afflict any society. 

Michael Yeargan ’s set—a two-story, open, wood-framed tenement building—made interiors visible and revolved to offer different perspectives of Catfish Row (the inner courtyard, the boats drawn up outside the gate). Catherine Zuber ’s costumes—print dresses, work clothes—spoke of frugality and simplicity. Between scenes, Luke Halls ’s scrim projections of houses on stilts, and the recorded sounds of waves and seagulls, gave more geographical context, while Donald Holder ’s lighting limned both time of day and extremes of weather, including the hurricane, throughout. 

The splendid chorus inhabited the space as though its 60 members lived there. It sometimes felt a little crowded, but it was worth it for the opulence of their singing in the prayers, dirges and celebrations that are the tent poles of “Porgy.” Mr. Robinson’s detailed directing always made them seem like individuals rather than a mass. 

The show was luxuriously cast, from the title roles to the smallest cameos, so the drama of the disabled beggar Porgy and the drug-addicted Bess, whom he tries to rescue, grew out of this community context. Bass-baritone Eric Owens stressed Porgy’s strength and generosity, and his position as a leader. With her poignant lyric soprano, Angel Blue brought out Bess’s vulnerability rather than her toughness; her Bess clung to Porgy for protection in her new life, but when he wasn’t there, she was easily drawn back to the abusive Crown and the oblivion of cocaine. 

Tenor Frederick Ballentine ’s Sportin’ Life, the drug dealer, was lithe, handsome and a complete sleaze, tempting not just Bess but the whole community into his nefarious worldview with “It Ain’t Necessarily So.” His two principal antagonists were worthy opponents: Denyce Graves was a fierce, no-nonsense Maria, wielding her fish-gutting knife to drive him off; as the devout Serena, Latonia Moore was riveting, her luxuriant soprano rising to a wail in “My Man’s Gone Now.” As Clara, Golda Schultz brought an innocent simplicity to “Summertime.” 

Bass-baritone Alfred Walker was a terrifying Crown; Ryan Speedo Green a powerful, confident Jake; and Errin Duane Brooks (Mingo), Chauncey Packer (Robbins) and Reginald Smith Jr. (Jim) were vivid in the rowdy Act I craps game. (The game became a fight, staged so realistically by David Leong that it was surprising that only Robbins was killed; Porgy’s execution of Crown in Act II was equally shocking.) Soprano Leah Hawkins had a brief, exquisite moment as the Strawberry Woman; Tichina Vaughn (Lily) and Chanáe Curtis (Annie) had lively, witty cameos.

Camille A. Brown ’s choreography for eight dancers ranged from manic social dancing to ecstatic worship, matching the ensemble’s mood. Conductor David Robertson built the opera’s grand arc and exposed its jaunty and passionate heart. 

—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).

At Opera Philadelphia’s annual fall festival, works included Prokofiev’s ‘The Love for Three Oranges,’ the world premiere of ‘Denis & Katya,’ and James Darrah’s revised production of ‘Semele.’

ByHeidi WalesonSept. 23, 2019 5:33 pm ET

Philadelphia

The fun show of O19, Opera Philadelphia’s annual 12-day fall festival, which runs through Sunday, was Alessandro Talevi ’s production of Prokofiev ’s “The Love for Three Oranges,”which captured the piece’s zany anarchy at the Academy of Music. Who can resist a hypochondriac prince, cursed by a sorceress, who goes on a quest to find three beloved fruit? Scenic designer Justin Arienti and especially costume designer Manuel Pedretti artfully merged visual references to the story’s 18th-century origins with the early 20th century of the opera’s creation—there were, among other things, a king who looked like Emperor Franz Josef, suffragettes, and courtiers in towering Louis XVI wigs tinted pink and purple—while conductor Corrado Rovaris gave Prokofiev’s brass- and percussion-laced score all the joyous abandon it deserves. 

Standouts in the large, game cast included Jonathan Johnson, a sweetly youthful-sounding Prince; Barry Banks (the clown Truffaldino); Wendy Bryn Harmer (the sorceress Fata Morgana ); Tiffany Townsend (the princess Ninetta, who emerges from one of the oranges); and especially Zachary James, an extremely tall bass, who sang the formidable Cook while dressed as a hen and wielding a lethal ladle like a golf club. David Lloyd-Jones ’s witty English translation added to the happy mayhem. 

***

At the other extreme, the arresting world premiere of “Denis & Katya” by composer Philip Venables and librettist Ted Huffman tackled a real-life fatal collision of unhappy teenagers, guns and social media. In 2016 in Russia, the eponymous couple, both 15 years old, ran away from home, holed up in a family hunting cottage, and posted photos and a video of their standoff with the police on social media. The 70-minute opera ingeniously deconstructs this event, recounting it through the eyes of six observers, all of whom are played by two excellent, protean singers—baritone Theo Hoffman and mezzo Siena Licht Miller (a second pair of singers was scheduled for three of the seven performances)—accompanied by four cellists. 

This layered technique offers a nuanced view of storytelling itself, since none of the observers actually knows what really happened or why. It also investigates the impact of the teens’ broadcast activity on the harrowing outcome. As was the case with his shattering “4.48 Psychosis,” Mr. Venables’s music is particularly good at conjuring up emotional atmosphere and building tension. The piece starts out almost boringly placid, with the singers describing bits of the video in flattened speech, and gradually gathers momentum to reach an almost unbearable peak, followed by a reflective coda. 

Each witness has a characteristic musical manner, such as the confusion, sympathy and sorrow of Denis’s Friend, and the hysterical panic of the Neighbor. Accounts are intercut, documentary style. Text messages between the creators, discussing what they should include in the work, also flash onto a background screen, accompanied by musical beeps that sound like a heart monitor. And we see the occasional, callously ugly comment from viewers of the couple’s livestream—a typical example is “Show us your tits before you die.” 

Performed at the intimate Suzanne Roberts Theatre, directed by Mr. Huffman, with scenic and lighting design by Andrew Lieberman, the show was staged like an improv exercise: a square space with a cellist in each corner, a projection screen at the rear, a couple of folding chairs, and ordinary casual clothes (by Millie Hiibel ) for the two singers. In its plainness, it invited the audience to participate in its voyeurism.

***

James Darrah ’s production of Handel’s “Semele,” performed at the Perelman Theater, has been revised since I saw it at Opera Omaha in 2016, but it remains an essentially dark interpretation of the opera, playing down its comic elements in favor of tragedy. The scenic and lighting designers Emily Anne MacDonald and Cameron Jaye Mock use hanging fabric panels to create the opera’s different worlds—the human Semele is carried off to heavenly realms by Jupiter; jealous Juno uses Semele’s desire for immortality to destroy her. The color palette is Stygian in the human realm and neutral in the Elysian.

Gustavo Ramirez Sansano ’s choreography for five dancers and movement for the chorus were fully integrated into the action, giving it an intriguing, ritual look; this was heightened by Sarah Schuessler ’s body-covering black costumes for the mortal choristers and the more revealing beige ones for the immortals. This was all very effective in Act I, making Semele’s forced marriage to Athamas seem like part of a rite by a terrified, misogynistic cult, but the visual change to the world of the gods didn’t make the environment much brighter or happier. A three-hour opera needs some visual variety.

The superb cast provided plenty of thrills, however. Amanda Forsythe was a superb Semele with a pealing, lyric sound and brilliant coloratura; Daniela Mack was bold, fierce and funny as Juno and brought a different, more passionate color to Semele’s sister, Ino. Alex Rosen was a comically sleepy Somnus and Tim Mead a strong Athamas. Alek Shrader ’s Jupiter improved as the show progressed; Sarah Shafer provided good comic moments as Juno’s sidekick, Iris. The eloquent principal dancer Lindsey Matheis was especially striking in the scene when Juno disguises herself as Ino: In this clever staging of the imposture, Ms. Mack (costumed as Juno) sang and seemed to be manipulating the dancer with invisible marionette strings. The fine chorus members aced their singing along with their movement and Gary Thor Wedow led a lively reading from the baroque-style orchestra, with particularly strong contributions from the continuo section. 

***

In “Let Me Die,” a world premiere presented at FringeArts, the singer and writer Joseph Keckler suggests that opera lovers are always waiting for the death scenes, and asks: “What if we gave the people what they came for? Over and over again?” After a rambling half-hour preamble, which included a couple of his own meandering songs and some jokes that weren’t as witty as he thought they were, he lay down in a coffin and let three singers— Darius Elmore, Natalie Levin and Veronica Chapman-Smith —do just that. We got 45 minutes of opera death scenes, cast without regard to gender and sung, for the most part, without distinction, in ugly costumes by Diego Montoya, all basically played for laughs. Apart from the “how many can you identify?” element, it was excruciating. Elizabeth Gimbel directed; pianist William Kim and violinist Lavinia Pavlish were pros.

—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).

Academy of Music

O19