ZEMLINSKYS ZIMMER

Michael Boley, Mary-Hollis Hundley, and Eric McKeever

(photo by Philip Schneidman)

There seems to be a number of options available to opera goers in New York City. We have selections from the canon given lavish productions by the Metropolitan Opera and beloved standards given bare bones productions by an ever diminishing number of scrappy companies like Amore Opera. There is a slow stream of contemporary works with polemic subjects and non-musical music that no one ever cares to revisit as well as exciting productions of newly discovered works from the 18th and 19th century (by Lafayette Opera and Teatro Nuovo respectively). There are the daring companies like Heartbeat Opera that put original spins on the classics, and finally companies that bring to light some rather odd pieces that merit a hearing.

Of course we are speaking of Little Opera Theater of New York, known as LOTNY, which has just brought a rarity to light at The Fisher Center of The Brooklyn Academy of Music. We were pleased to attend opening night of Zemlinskys Zimmer and found much to enjoy--some fine singing in well-enunciated German, an excellent chamber orchestra that gave an admirable reading of Roland Freisitzer's reduction of the Zemlinsky score, and some gorgeous colorful projections by Kylee Loera.

The cultural scene of fin de siècle Vienna was responsible for a number of innovations in the visual and performing arts as well as some socio-sexual experimentation.  One has only to think of the wild adventures of Alma Schindler who threw aside composer/conductor Alexander Zemlinsky for composer/conductor Gustav Mahler, whom she also threw aside for a succession of lovers. One might speculate that Zemlinsky's choice of Oscar Wilde's unfinished play A Florentine Tragedy  (translated into German by Max Meyerfeld) as a subject for the opera we saw last night was based on his experience with the faithless Alma.

The story involves a woman named Bianca (how ironic!) who entertains a nobleman named Prinz Guido Bardi right under the nose of her merchant husband Simone. As directed by Philip Schneidman, the lustful lovers exercise minimal restraint in hiding their feeling. Simone (baritone Eric McKeever) plays a cat-and-mouse game with the Prince (tenor Michael Boley) and Bianca (soprano Mary-Hollis Hundley) who appear to ignore the warning signs of the rage behind Simone's obsequious behavior. The evening ends in a duel and a strangling of the Prince, after which Bianca fawns over her previously despised and disparaged husband. One imagines that Zemlinsky might have wished to strangle Mahler! One wonders whether Mahler and Alma were present at a performance.  Now that would have made a fine opera!

The three cast members are to be complimented on their fine singing as well as their not-so-subtle acting. The adulterous story was prefaced by the lovely Ms. Hundley reclining on a chaise longue, apparently awakening from a dream and singing Zemlinsky's luscious setting of Richard Dehmel's "Maiblumen blühten überall" against that afore-mentioned projected background reminiscent of visual arts of that period. 

This was followed by Mr. Boley  performing "Liebe Schwalbe" from Walzer Gasänge Op. 6,  a setting of text by Ferdinand Gregorovius. It seemed a marvelous opportunity to get acquainted with works by a composer who was quite famous in his time but whose light diminished when he fled the Nazis and wound up in New York.

Costumes by Lara Bruijn were a propos, as were the garments Simone brought out for the Prince to wear. Only one element stood out in a jarring way and that was the black corset worn by Bianca. We thought it should have been white like the other undergarments.

Now what about the score!  Stage left held most of the musicians; strings were joined by sufficient winds to provide color, including flute, clarinets, oboe, horns, trumpet, and trombone. On stage right, thrillingly right under our nose, were a celeste, a piano, and some exciting percussionists. Concertmaster was Stani Dimitrova and Maestro Tiffany Chang brought it all together, filling the space (comprising blessedly raked seating) with thrilling sound.

We will also mention that the titles by Dalia Sevilla were not the ordinary barely legible afterthoughts but made a part of the projections which also did a fine job of establishing time and place.

© meche kroop