FLEUR'S GARDEN OF SONGS

 Myra Huang and Fleur Barron

Our happiest moments come from witnessing the growth of young artists that we admired as students. Often their career development takes them far from New York City and there is a considerable interlude during which we lose track of them. Such was the case with the truly gifted mezzo-soprano Fleur Barron. It has been at least ten years since we heard her sing in a master class at Manhattan School of Music, led by Martina Arroyo and Maestro Jorge Parodi.

Ms. Barron sang a duet from one of our favorite zarzuelas --Luisa Fernanda, and Mo. Parodi gave her a few pointers in Spanish diction. What we noticed about this lovely Singaporean-British mezzo-soprano was the expressiveness found in her face as well as her voice. We are happy to report that she continues to make excellent use of these assets and created a recital last night at the 92nd Street Y that impressed us with its directness and connection with the audience.

Buttenweiser Hall was the perfectly sized venue for a recital of this nature, and one can see from the photo above that the artist dressed in stylish informality that served to amplify the accessible nature of her performance. What made this important was that she took the audience on a journey "home" with many songs that were difficult in nature.

However, let us begin with the most accessible, Modest Mussorgsky's Nursery Songs. They were composed in two cycles between 1868 and 1872. The first cycle In the Nursery comprises five songs, of which we heard four. The second cycle At the Dacha comprises four songs, of which we heard one. Sadly the last two songs have been lost. We hope some day they will show up somewhere because these songs are touchingly effective at limning the qualities of childhood.

They also offer major opportunities for the singer to assume various roles and adopt several moods-- the insistence upon storytelling,  the enthusiasm for physical activity, the evasion of responsibility for accidents, the tenderness toward dolls, and the gravity of bedtime prayers. We always love hearing this cycle but never have we heard the songs performed with such dramatic effectiveness. Ms. Barron easily adopted the persona of the child in its various moods and also that of the nurse and mother. The expressiveness of her voice was matched by the expressiveness of her face. This, for us, was the highlight of the recital.

We also enjoyed the songs of Charles Trenet, affirming our opinion that, sung without amplification, cabaret songs are raised to the level of "art song". If Steven Blier has not yet discovered this treasure trove, he probably will in the future! In "Si vous aimiez", the composer/lyricist fancies himself unique because he experiences deeper joy and suffering than "the other" does. In "Boum!" the lyrics are full of onomatopoeticisms and reminded us of a German cabaret song in which the heart beats to a "boum"-- the title of which we cannot recall. If you, Dear Reader, know the one we are thinking of, please leave a comment below.

Although contemporary music is not our favorite, we found much to like about Huang Ruo's "Fisherman's Sonnet" which began with rippling effects in the piano and featured expressive dynamic variation.  The piano wa similarly interesting in Chen Yi's "Know You How Many Petals Falling". We love the sound of Mandarin, which is musical even when spoken. The gentle folksong "Northeast Lullaby" was particularly lovely and involved a humming passage. 

Alex Ho's post modern piece "Four miniatures for our littler selves" involved what seemed to be a prepared piano with Ms. Barron sticking her head underneath the raised lid and making odd sounds. Fortunately she prepared the audience beforehand. We found it an original curiosity of limited artistic value.

However, this reminds us to mention Ms. Barron's incredible audience rapport, enhanced by a conversational naturalism. We were less impressed by the audience who, sheeplike, followed the lead of an individual who found it necessary to applaud at inopportune times. Audiences should learn to watch the body language of the singer which generally indicates a stopping point. Otherwise, the mood is broken and the beginning of the next song is obliterated.

We would also like to applaud the excellent collaborative work of Myra Huang. How interesting that we wrote about her also about ten years ago when she accompanied Susana Phillips at a George London Foundation recital at The Morgan Library. We still recall her performance of the "Meditation" from Massenet's Thaïs, in duet with a violin. We have always admired her consummate collaborative skills. Her career has taken off as successfully as Ms. Barron's and she is now part of the Lindemann Program and is also on the Collaborative Piano faculty at Manhattan School of Music.

There were other riches on this very personal program, including a pair of songs by Brahms to texts by Klaus Groth about homesickness, which set the tone for this program about "home". One might speculate on the meaning of this subject to an artist who sings all over the world. We have often wondered if they get homesick!

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BALLET HISPANICO

"House of Mad'moiselle" performed by Ballet Hispanico

(photo by Benjamin Rivera)

We are a Swan Lake/Giselle kind of balletomane; but we like to explore art forms that are new to us. Our attempts to broaden our horizons in the opera world have been disappointing, as have our attempts to appreciate modern ballet--until last night, when we attended a fine program by Ballet Hispanico at the New York City Center. Instead of the boring herky-jerky movements reminiscent of a health club exercise class which we deplored at our last excursion into the world of dance, we enjoyed a stimulating, colorful, and ultimately satisfying evening.

Although Ballet Hispanico has been around for over a half century, we have not seen them in the past 15 years since Cuban-born Eduardo Vilaro took over as Artistic Director. If we saw their performances before his reign, we cannot recall them. The company has become a major force on the New York cultural scene and has danced all over the world. 

Their mission is to foster the work of Latinx choreographers (very much in line with our mission of encouraging young Latinx opera singers) and to provide excellent training for dancers. If we take last night's performance as evidence, they have definitely achieved their goal. The dancers seem to be bursting with energy, alive with enthusiasm, and superbly disciplined, operating successfully as a unit. Artistic values were high with interesting usage of pendant lights lowered from above. Upstage scrims were given intense washes of color.

It was an interesting experience to watch abstract dances. We are reminded of abstract art which may mean something quite different to each viewer and also something different from what the painter had in mind. It is within our nature to create stories; when the curtain rose on Mr. Vilaro's "Buscando a Juan" the two male dancers, under swinging hanging lights, seemed to be a creator and a robot who was manipulated to achieve humanistic movement. But then the robot moved freely and was not only accepted by a group of dancers but elected to a leadership position. Was this even close to what the choreographer had in mind? We have no idea but we enjoyed our fantasy.

The sculptural movement of the dancers was effective in a manner that we have not seen since a long ago performance by Lars Lubovich. There was an organic flow to the movements that we found immensely satisfying.

However, it was the second piece on the program that delighted us the most.  It was wacky, weird, and wonderful. Annabelle Lopez Ochoa's "House of Mad'moiselle" involved a very tall muscular "woman" in platform boots (Adam Dario Morales) portraying a superstar surrounded by adoring fans, all of whom wore bright fluorescent scarlet wigs and tucked matching fluffy scarves into their costumes (conceived by the choreographer) that looked like wagging tails as they moved.  And moved, they did! 

There was a moment when the "superstar" was alone on the stage and crouched down in a posture of despair and our thoughts meandered down the speculative path that so-called celebrities are all about "show" and inwardly are lonely sad people.

The third piece on the program was instantly forgettable.  "18 +1", choreographed by Gustavo Ramirez Sansano, left no impression. Ghabriello Fernando's costumes were just drab. We wished that the program order had been different. "House of Mad'moiselle" would have sent us out the door dancing and smiling. Nonetheless, the evening was a worthwhile "walk on the wild side".

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LA RONDINE at MSM

 Curtain Call for La Rondine at Manhattan School of Music

Puccini's 1917 opera La Rondine is about falling in love in a moment; we fell in love with the work a couple minutes after Maestro Marcello Cormio raised his baton. There is no doubt that Mo. Cormio was completely in touch with Puccini's lavish melodies as well as the master's use of dance rhythms. As a matter of fact he appeared to be dancing on the podium and his obvious enthusiasm for the work was communicated to the student orchestra which responded in a manner that a professional orchestra might envy.

Puccini appears to have rewritten many of his operas; we believe we have seen several versions of his Madama Butterfly and we are rather opinionated about our favorite. That he also wrote three versions of La Rondine was unknown to us until we did some reading.  Director Katherine M. Carter wisely chose the first version in which our heroine Magda has agency. A century later, we are in a position to admire a woman who weighs her options, thinks about the future with a clear eye and makes her own decisions. We will not give away the ending here because we hope you will go and see for yourself, since there are several more performances this weekend.

It might have been tempting for a self-serving director to have moved the plot to contemporary times but we are very glad that Ms. Carter did not. It just doesn't ring true to tell a story about a "kept woman" who feels like an outcast, not when females college students have no shame about becoming "sex workers".

One could make a case for La Rondine being considered an operetta due to its lively tunes, its use of tropes familiar to us from Johann Strauss Jr.'s Die Fledermaus and its sharing of tunefulness with the operettas of Victor Herbert. However, we make no such distinction between opera and operetta. It is simply gorgeous music lending gravity to a story that resonates with us. Who has not regretted fleeing from a tempting situation in their youth, then hoping to recreate that situation years later. One recognizes that one cannot put one's foot in the same river twice. The river of time flows on and cannot be stopped.

The lovely Magda, so convincingly portrayed by the silver-voiced soprano Seolbin Oh, occupies a grand apartment, presumably paid for by her "patron" Rambaldo (the fine baritone Blake Stevenson who somehow manages to look and act like an older man) who provides her with costly gifts. She has a sassy maid named Lisette (the funny Sanne Vleugels) who thinks nothing of purloining her mistress' clothes for a night on the town. She has charming friends--Yvette (Abigail Williams), Bianca (Hailey Hye-In Ji) and Suzy (Grace Verbic)-- gorgeously costumed by Rodrigo Muñoz--who gossip about the newest trends in romance. Attending her salon is the poet Prunier (the sweet voiced tenor SeongBeom Choi) who gets to sing the opera's most famous aria "Chi il bel sogno di Doretta" which becomes a duet when Magda adds her verse.

A young man arrives (as one does in La Traviata) who is the son of a friend of Rambaldo; the women fuss over Ruggero (tenor Fernando Silva-Gorbea)  and recommend that he spend his first night in Paris at Bullier's. Everyone leaves and Magda, dreaming of a missed opportunity of her youth, decides to go to the same nightclub. Of course, she winds up sitting with Ruggero. Of course they fall in love. Of course Lisette and Prunier show up. Of course Rambaldo also shows up.  And Magda breaks off her relationship with him.

As in Act II of La Traviata, the couple spend an idyllic time in the country and get to sing a beautiful love duet.  However, Ruggero's father does not show up to chastise him. On the other hand, his mother wants to welcome Magda (now calling herself Paulette) to the family and is anticipating a grandchild. And this is where our storytelling ends. You will have to see what happens for yourself.

You will also have to make up your own mind Dear Reader, whether this is a comedy or a tragedy. For us it was neither, rather a bittersweet tale that reminds us that we do not always get what we want and that every event in our lives has its own time and place. Thus, the resonance that makes this work of art meaningful and relatable. We learned (thanks, Wikipedia) that in 1995, one of those self-important directors of Eurotrash created a version in which Magda drowns herself at the end! This version was picked up by the Washington National Opera and the Los Angeles Opera. We are so happy that Manhattan School of Music and Ms. Carter did not burden this beautiful work with a toxic ending. One wants to leave this very human story with a wry smile, not sobbing in grief. We can save our sobs for Butterfly, Violetta, and Mimi.

We would like to give a shout to the many members of the Ensemble who provided such a lively and believable atmosphere to the scene at Bullier's with choreography by Stephanie Sutherland. Chorus Master Jackson McKinnon is to be praised as is set designer Brendan Gonzales Boston who created a glamorous Parisian salon as well as a stunning red nightclub.

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A COMPASSIONATE RULER

 Curtain call at Juilliard for Mozart's La Clemenza di Tito

What sort of work might please a newly crowned Emperor in the late 18th c.? How about a tale of a beloved magnanimous Emperor from Ancient Rome named Titus? An old libretto by Metastasio was tailored to meet the demands of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart by one Caterino Mazzolà, after Antonio Salieri repeatedly declined the commission for a work to celebrate the coronation of   Leopold II, Holy Roman Emperor, as King of Bohemia. It is believed that Mozart rose to the occasion and composed the opera in 18 days, possibly beginning his labors on the 4 day coach trip from Vienna to Prague.

The story is a simple one and quite direct. Newly installed  Emperor Tito (tenor Andrew Turner). is beloved by his friends, two noblemen named Sesto (mezzo-soprano Ruby Dibble) and Annio (mezzo-soprano Lucy Joy Altus), but not so beloved by the daughter of the former deposed ruler named Vitellia (soprano Evelyn Saavedra) a vengeful and narcissistic character. She is furious not only because of her father's fate, but also because she wants to be Empress and Tito has preferred others. She manipulates Sesto, who is madly in love with her, into murdering Tito.

Meanwhile, Sesto's sister Servillia (soprano Shelén Hughes) is so in love with Annio that she refuses Tito's proposal of marriage in a confession that is so brave that Tito can do nothing but admire her honesty.

This is indeed a family drama writ large on the political stage. The entire point is that after the Senate condemns the guilty Sesto for his failed assassination attempt, Tito forgives all and tears up the death warrant. The ambivalent confusion of Sesto was extremely well limned. What a weak man won't do for love (lust)!  The one psychological dynamic that didn't read true is the sudden burst of honesty on the part of Vitellia who confesses her role in instigating the assassination plot. We must say that Ms. Saavedra's acting was persuasive in spite of the unrealistic plot turn.

This opera is not nearly as famous as the three operas Mozart wrote with Da Ponte and we can see why. Although the music is as fine as Mozart every wrote, the plot lacks the entertainment value of Nozze di Figaro, Don Giovani, and Cosi fan tutti, all of which are comedies with serious messages. La Clemenza di Tito is an opera seria, the last of a dying breed. Perhaps if the opera were heard as often as the other three, or Zauberflöte, the melodies might lodge in our ear and provide a more rewarding experience. The famous duet "Parto, parto, ma tu, ben mio" is perhaps the most famous and heard often in recital. Last night it was given a beautiful performance by Ms. Saavedra and Ms. Dibble.

Ms. Hughes had her chance to shine in "S'altro che lagrime" in Act II, and Sesto's noble aria of forgiveness was handsomely performed by Mr. Turner. Ms. Altus had a fine aria in "Torna di Tito a lato" demonstrating real care for Sesto's fate.  As they say, there are no small roles and baritone Shavon Lloyd's appearance in the role of Publio was just fine.

Not only was the singing of excellent quality but the Juilliard Orchestra gave their customary exemplary performance under the baton of Maestro Nimrod David Pfeffer. In spite of the fact that the orchestra was not in its usual sunken position, Mo. Pfeffer controlled the dynamics so effectively that there was not a single instance in which a singer was drowned out. We particularly enjoyed the passages in which the Bass Clarinet wove around the vocal line.

Stephen Wadsworth's direction made the most of a mostly static plot. A decision had been made to dress the artists in late 18th c. garb. We have no idea what the singers wore when the opera made its premiere in 1791. We would have preferred to see it in togas but were relieved that it was not performed in contemporary clothing. The distancing to an earlier period allowed us draw our own contrast with contemporary times in which a ruler might pardon those guilty of crimes for reasons which we find cynical--like political advantage, whereas Tito pardons out of love and magnanimity.

Charlie Corcoran's scenic design was simple and effective. A ramp leading up from ground level to an upstairs door and a simply demarcated area at ground level. The entire stage was surrounded by a frame.

Sara Jean Tosetti's costumes were effective with the two female character dressed in a manner that reflected their very different character. Costumes for the breeches roles were convincing and Tito looked suitably imperial.

Juilliard Vocal Arts has once again filled a major gap in New York City's cultural landscape, providing a most satisfying experience to the audience and valuable performance opportunities for students. Before we end we would like to commend Chorus Master John Arida for melding many voices into an exceptional unit, notable for clear diction. This, Dear Reader, is a rare achievement.

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MORTE (more or less)

 

Jorell Williams, Melissa Harvey, Maestro Neal Goren, Laurie Rubin, and Joshua Dennis

In the first scene of Nadia Boulanger's only opera La Ville Morte, one of the characters saw something he couldn't describe. That is exactly how we feel about the performance of said opera last night at The NYU Skirball Center for the Performing Arts. As regular readers already know, we approach every opera  without reading advance materials. We have our very own criterion; let the work speak for itself. We would be surprised to find anyone in the decent sized audience who could have understood what happened onstage.

Upon returning home, we consulted Wikipedia (faut de mieux). "The story follows the lives and loves of an archeologist, Léonard, his sister Hebé, Alexandre, a colleague, and his wife Anne, amidst the ruins of Mycenae." 

It took us awhile to figure out how the characters were related. Hebé (performed by the fine soprano Melissa Harvey seems to have an affectionate relationship with Anne (played by the equally fine mezzo-soprano Laurie Rubin). Two men arrive separately. One is the fine tenor Joshua Dennis (whom we have written about many times since he launched his career at the Santa Fe Opera), and the other is baritone Jorell Williams (whom we have also written about many times in the past dozen years).  The relationships described in Wikipedia took some time to figure out.

The libretto was based on a play written by Gabriele D'Annunzio. The story is as obscure as that of Debussy's Pelléas et Mélisande and if you are a fan of the Symbolist movement you may enjoy that sort of non-storytelling but we do not.

Still, Nadia Boulanger was a major star in the musical firmament, responsible for teaching many other composers, and this is the only opera she wrote. She wrote it with her mentor (and possibly lover) Raoul Pugno in the early years of the 20th c. but its performance was prevented by the outbreak of World War II. The score was lost and had to be reconstructed. Unfortunately, the orchestrator neglected to include a harp. Other than that we heard some really beautiful passages for the winds and something interesting going on in the string section of the chamber orchestra presided over by Maestro Neal Goren, so well remembered for his Gotham Chamber Opera. 

We recall spending many interesting evenings with Gotham Chamber Opera. Some we loved (Charpentier's Le descent d'Orphée aux enfers), Montsalvatge's El Gato con Botas, and a Martinú comedy called The Bridge) and a few we didn't relate to. We were quite disappointed when GCO folded and were particularly happy to witness Maestro Goren's conducting once more.

In sum, Dear Reader, the orchestral music was well worth hearing, even if it wasn't exactly what the composers wrote; we enjoyed hearing two male singers with whom we have a long history; we were pleased to be introduced to two female singers who were unknown to us. So, the evening was not a total loss. However, we and our two musician friends left puzzled and unsatisfied. That the work received significant applause (and was well received in Athens when performed by the Greek National Opera) did not make us any happier.

A word about the direction by Robin Guarino, whose interpretation of Haydn's Orlando Paladino we enjoyed about ten years ago--we think she did the best with a non-story and inscrutable characters whose lines were not those of real people. Andromache Chalfant's set comprised a rather bare room with a single chair, a room in the form of a box that was elevated and reached by a ladder and a metal staircase. In front of this at ground level were reams of white fabric meant to represent a few different elements. Also there was a table with gold artifacts, puzzling until we read in Wikipedia that the male characters were archaeologists. Jessica Drayton's projection design comprised some abstract motifs which added to the inscrutability. Candice Donnelly's costume design was nondescript.

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TIERGARTEN

 Master of Ceremonies Kim David Smith with cast of Tiergarten

(photo by Kevin Condon)

Death of Classical never ceases to amaze us. It might be the intimate candle-lit concerts at The Crypt or the intimate concerts in a mausoleum at Greenwood Cemetery. Last night's extravaganza was anything but intimate. It seems as if all of New York (or at least all of arts-loving New York) had packed into the grand hall of St. Mary's on the Lower East Side for an extravaganza created, written, and directed by the multipotentialite Andrew Ousley, a virtual fountain of original ideas.

The serious starting point for this evening of fun was Mr. Ousley's fascination with turning points in human history. Thus, we were taken from Weimar Berlin backwards through World War I, the American Revolution, the Salem Witch Trials, the Fall of the Roman Empire, and all the way to Adam and Eve. Each turning point was brought to life by song and/or dance accompanied by The Grand Street Stompers.

Our tour guide through history was Kim David Smith, the Australian cabaret star who has won the hearts of New Yorkers. We have written about his compelling act a number of times and always hope he will sing William Bolcom's "Black Max". Mr. Smith oozes a rare combination of danger, sex appeal, and humor with a sly wink. Although we would not hear "Black Max" last night, we very much enjoyed his performance of "Pirate Jenny" from Kurt Weill and Bertold Brecht's Threepenny Opera, illustrated by shadow imagery  (created by Foreshadow Puppetry). Similarly, we enjoyed his performance of "The Alabama Song" from the same team's operetta The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny.

Aside from Mr. Smith's prodigious talent, we were quite taken with his costuming (Fay Leshner) and uncredited make-up,  including red sequined lips.

We think of Death of Classical as Rebirth of Classical. Rebirths always assume new forms. Tiergarten contained multitudes. That is, there was entertainment for just about everyone. This particular opera lover delighted in a riveting performance of Azucena's aria from Verdi's Il Trovatore performed by Melina Jaharis. The tender duet from Monteverdi's L’incoronazione di Poppea was given a fine performance by Ariadne Greif as Poppea and Luke Elmer as Nerone, a performance that was romantic and sensual.

Amara Granderson gave a stirring performance of "Strange Fruit"  a song written and composed by Abel Meeropol (under his pseudonym Lewis Allan) and recorded by Billie Holiday in 1939, and subsequently by many other famous artists. If we are not mistaken,  Mr. Smith himself sang it some time ago.   Aaron Reeder put his heart and soul into the oft recorded spiritual "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord".

We were so taken by Mr. Smith's performance of "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" written by Scottish-born Australian singer-songwriter Eric Bogle in 1971, that we were compelled to read and re-read the lyrics. We defy anyone to read the anti-war lyrics (referencing Gallipoli in World War I) without weeping.

Fortunately the evening came to a close with the somewhat hopeful "Lost in the Stars" which actually comes from a tragic musical with book and lyrics by Maxwell Anderson and music by Kurt Weill, based on the very sad novel Cry, the Beloved Country  by Alan Paton. 

If Mr. Ousley intended for us to enjoy the entertainment, and then to go home and think about the message, he certainly succeeded!

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A PARABLE FOR OUR TIME

 

The cast of Viktor Ullman's Der Kaiser Von Atlantis

Citizens of the United States are prone to taking much for granted. Among the many rights and privileges we possess, one of the most important is that of freedom of artistic expression. With a few exceptions, like desecrating the flag or saying scurrilous things about minorities, artists are free to hold a mirror up to society and to show us what we tend to avoid or deny. Fascist dictators (is that redundant?) exert total control over music, art, and theater to present an idealized and dishonest view of society. Those that expose the lies are silenced, imprisoned, or killed.

 Viktor Ullman's opera Der Kaiser von Atlantis, was composed in 1943 in the Nazi showcase concentration camp Terezin, with libretto by Peter Kien.  The opera was seen in rehearsal after which both men were hustled off to Auschwitz and tragically exterminated.  The opera has been produced in Europe but has been rather neglected in New York with the exception of a production by Opera Moderne in 2012 and one in 2015 by Juilliard Opera Theater.

The tragic circumstances of two talented lives cut short lends import to a work that easily stands on its own.  For this, we thank Ullman's fellow prisoners who managed to rescue the work when Terezin was liberated as well as the spiritualist who purportedly communicated with Ullman's ghost in finishing the instrumentation!  For bringing the work to life this week  we thank Manhattan School of Music Graduate Opera Theatre.

Now, what about the work itself?   Ullman's music is at times rather jazzy, referencing composers of many periods. Although we have heard it scored for and played by 13 instrumentalists, including a saxophone, a banjo and a harmonium, we heard it performed last night by two pianists (Eric Sedgwick and Anya Gershtein) and a percussionist (Tarun Bellur).  Under the musical direction of Djordje Nesic, it never sounded boring or "academic".   

It's a one act piece of great cynicism which makes one think of Brecht and Weill.

The story is an ironic one in which the Kaiser (a stand-in for Hitler) tries to co-opt Death which results in Death taking a holiday.  No one dies.  The world is filled with the walking dead.  A better image for prisoners in a concentration camp could not be imagined!  In the middle of this, a soldier and a girl find love.  At the end, Death takes the life of the Kaiser.

With great appreciation for the direction of John de los Santos assisted by Daniel Isengart, we were not forced to make the obvious connection with the threat of a would-be dictator in our own midst, nor was the point driven home by having the Kaiser sport a Hitlerian mustache. Nor were the subjects wearing striped pajamas.  The audience was wisely left to make their own connections. This always draws us into the work whereas overly explicit references or attempts to make a work "relevant" tend to push us away.

The cast was uniformly excellent. Kaiser Overall was played by Gregory Gropper whilst the role of Death was performed by Donghoon Kang who recently received a well-deserved major award from Opera Index. The role of Der Lautsprecher, the Kaiser's mouthpiece, was well performed by Brian Linares and the part of Der Trommler was taken by Morena Galán, whose undergraduate work at Mannes College of Music we followed with great interest. 

There was a moving scene with more lyrical music  performed by Samantha Noonan and Scott Rubén La Marca (recently seen as the fickle Count Belfiore when the MSM Graduate Opera Theater produced Mozart's La Finta Giardiniera).  Both begin as enemy soldiers trying to kill each other; but since Death was taking a holiday, they wind up loving each other--an optimistic note in a dark story.

Also remembered from La Finta Giardiniera was Victoria Magnusson who excelled as Harlequin, much as she won us over in the role of Serpetta in the Mozart. Rounding out the production was Margaux Frohlich who did an independent study project (with Benjamin Sokol) on the artists, actors, and musicians who were interred at Terezin. We believe it was she who gave a short speech at the conclusion of the opera about her ancestors who were victims of Nazi brutality.  As if the work was not sufficiently powerful!

What word could we use to describe our experience? "Entertained" is far too light-hearted. It might be more accurate to say that we were shaken and driven to think about the many places in the world today, some in our very own hemisphere, where dictators manage to enslave a populace. It doesn't matter whether we call their regimes "Fascist" or "Communist" or "Religious Fundamentalist"; they all have the same goal of concentration of power in the person of a sociopath with the result that the people suffer. Let us not think that we are immune. Democracy must be fought for to be won and vigorously supported to be maintained.

Should you be fortunate enough to find a ticket for tonight's performance, do not fail to read the historical background provided by Heather O'Donovan's essay.

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