WHAT A WONDERFUL WEDDING IT WAS!

Jeni Houser as Susanna

Jesse Blumberg as Figaro

It was the social event of the season and we were thrilled to be invited.  In keeping with the exclusivity of the event and the size of Count Almaviva's summer residence on Hudson St. in the West Village, it was a small private event, limited to only fifty fortunate guests.

The ceremony was delayed for about two hours and we guests were privy to all the preparations.  We got to chat with Figaro himself as he studied the room allotted by the Count, trying to figure out where to place the marital bed.  We got to greet his bride Susanna as she made her preparations.  

The ceremony, which was delayed due to all kinds of complications, finally took place with the entire household in attendance and guests being treated to glasses of Madeira with which to toast the bridal couple, and some lovely sweetmeats, ensuring that the marriage would be a sweet one.

We are speaking, of course, of The Marriage of Figaro, not the Mozart version, but a relatively unknown version written by Marcos Portugal in 1799 with libretto by Gaetano Rossi, who, like Da Ponte, adapted the work from a play by Beaumarchais. The story was basically the same with a few minor variations.

On Site Opera has made their mark by presenting lesser known operas in site-specific settings. This work marks the centerpiece of their exploration of the Beaumarchais trilogy. Having experienced several of their excellent productions, we count their contributions as crucial to the New York City opera landscape.

The production team is no less than visionary: Executive Director/Producer Jessica Kiger sees her company as complementary to grand opera, not a replacement. Indeed, there is something unique and incredibly special about opera up close and personal.

Stage Director Eric Einhorn has exquisite taste and judgment in each and every production, moving characters around the set and giving them stage business that is meaningful.

Conductor Geoffrey McDonald not only brings out the best in his musicians and singers, but, in this case, collaborated with guitarist José Luis Iglesias to produce a version of the score involving four classical musicians (violin, cello, clarinet, and oboe) with three musicians suggestive of Portuguese fado music (classical guitar, Portuguese guitar, and accordion). 

That sounds strange on paper but the music they made seemed totally appropriate and fell fantastically well on the ear. Furthermore, it helped to get the point across that we were hearing an entirely different work and not a "copy of Mozart".

This being an opera, the voices were, shall we say, "instrumental" in the success of this venture. As the eponymous Figaro, lyric baritone Jesse Blumberg soared gracefully through the material and conveyed the wily resourcefulness of his character.  As his bride Susanna, soprano Jeni Houser sang warmly and winningly. Their chemistry together was wonderful, not only in their duets but in the dialogue.

(In place of recitativi, we had effective dialogue written by Joan Holden.)

As the beleaguered Countess Almaviva, soprano Camille Zamora was believable and sang with warmth and lovely tone. We particularly enjoyed her duet with Ms. Houser.

Tenor David Blalock made a marvelous Count Almaviva, both dramatically and vocally. He conveyed all of the Count's arrogance and eventual contrition.

Soprano Melissa Wimbish made a perfect Cherubino, totally convincing in her mischievous portrayal, and vocally excellent.

For humor, we had the Marcellina of mezzo-soprano Margaret Lattimore, whom we much enjoyed some years ago and were happy to see back onstage. Bass-baritone David Langan was just right as Don Bartolo.

Bass-baritone Ryan Kuster excelled as the slimy Don Basilio and bass-baritone Antoine Hodge was hilarious as the gardener Antonio and even funnier as the notary Gusmano. He kept falling asleep even as he was reading the documents and we couldn't help noticing that his character was the only person in the room who was. (So unlike sitting at the Met surrounded by snoring audience members.)

So--this production was anything but a snooze.  It was incredibly involving and one left feeling as if one was a participant, not an observer.

Had the musical values been any less wonderful, we might have been telling you that the set stole the show.  The performance was a multi-storied and elaborately decorated house on Hudson St. which audience members were invited to explore before the opera began. It was great fun to encounter the cast members already in character.  One truly felt a part of the proceedings.

Costumes by Haley Lieberman seemed to suggest an indeterminate period in the second half of the 20th c.

The opera was sung in English and, although we would have preferred to hear it in the original Italian, we admit that the translation by Gilly French and Jeremy Gray was exceptionally well done, using some clever rhymes like "marriage/disparage".  Contributing to our tolerance for the English was the fact that every cast member had excellent diction, a quality we do not take for granted.

We feel a bit guilty praising so highly a work which few of you will get to see. The four-day run was sold out long ago and we can only hope that it will be presented again in the future so that more people might experience the same thrill that we did.

Obviously the economics of producing such an elaborate work in such intimate quarters for such a small audience to enjoy is an issue. On Site Opera deserves your philanthropy!

© meche kroop

A BARBER OF A DIFFERENT CUT

David Blalock, Rod Nelman, and Monica Yunus

It comes as no surprise that the innovative On Site Opera has come up with yet another daring idea--The Figaro Project--presenting all three Beaumarchais-based operas over a period of three years. Forget Rossini, forget Mozart, forget Corigliano. The three "alternates" are Giovanni Paisiello, Marcos Portugal and Darius Milhaud.

Paisiello's librettist for Il Barbiere di Siviglia, Giuseppe Petrosellini, hewed rather more closely than did Rossini's librettist Cesare Sterbini to the Beaumarchais comedy; the love interest between Rosina and "Lindoro" (Count Almaviva in disguise) was given more weight than the cleverness of the famed barber. The work premiered in 1782 and was wildly popular. Rossini's version did not enter the opera stage until 1816 and it took a long time for it to supplant the Paisiello. Today, Rossini's version is preeminent and Paisiello's has faded into obscurity.

Thanks to On Site Opera, this oversight has been remedied and we spent a delightful evening revisiting the story with "new" music at a particularly apt venue that added to the enjoyment.  We began the evening sitting in the courtyard of the Fabbri Mansion which dates back a century and has been landmarked. The singers were finely costumed by Candida K. Nichols in garb of that same period.

The sweet-voiced tenor David Blalock as Count Almaviva is nervously trying to serenade Rosina, the cloistered ward of the controlling Dr. Bartolo. Figaro, portrayed by baritone Andrew Wilkowske, is here a musician who has fallen on hard times and has taken up barbering. He and the Count recognize each other and set the plot in motion.

In Paisiello's version there is no band hired for the serenade but we did not feel at all cheated since the music coming from the chamber orchestra  was so delightful. Newly appointed Music Director Geoffrey McDonald (much enjoyed on prior occasions at the White Box Center's Alcina and Gotham Chamber Opera's El Gato con Botas) led a chamber orchestra comprising a string quartet augmented by woodwinds and a guitar which handled the recitativi better than any harpsichord.

At a balcony overhead, the doors parted and the lovely soprano Monica Yunus stepped out. We felt like part of the action, perhaps a neighbor witnessing the serenade. We love the idea of a site-specific work and the Fabbri Mansion worked perfectly well. One could see into the mansion from which emerged the foolish and controlling Dr. Bartolo who is cutting back on Rosina's fresh air privileges. Rod Nelman's hearty bass-baritone was perfect for the buffo role.

Also emerging from the mansion were two servants who provided plenty of comedy with their snuff-dipping, sneezing, and yawning. Baritone Benjamin Bloomfield portrayed Svegliato and later, lavishly bewigged, the notary who marries Rosina and the Count. In this production, the tenor role of Giovinetto was sung by the adorable soprano Jessica Rose Futran who kept us laughing.

When the action moved inside, the audience was ushered into the library of the mansion and seated along the two long sides of the room. Everyone had a good view of the action and many were involved in the performance to a small extent. We felt grateful to On Site Opera for taking us out of the theater and into a place that felt real.  A few props sufficed and the entire affair was subtly and effectively lit by Shawn Kaufman.

The dapper Don Basilio was portrayed by bass-baritone Isaiah Musik-Ayala who lived up to his name. "La Calunnia" was well sung but not nearly as well-developed as Rossini's version.

The scenes were pretty much the same as in the Rossini version and the melodies were charming. Every voice effectively expressed the character and the Italian was so fine that the projected titles were scarcely necessary. Clearly, leaving the concert hall requires no sacrifice of musical or dramatic values. General and Artistic Director Eric Einhorn has earned our admiration and respect. When we could tear our attention away from the action, we glanced around the room and saw rows of smiling faces.  Does one see that at the Met?

We can scarcely wait for next year's Nozze di Figaro, written by Marcos Portugal in 1800 and never before seen in North America. The following year we will get to see La Mère Coupable, written by Darius Milhaud.

If you move quickly you may be able to snag a seat for one of the three remaining performances on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Last night there was not a seat to be had. On Site Opera has only been around for a couple years but word has gotten out. We know quality when we see/hear it.

(c) meche kroop