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

 

BRITTEN'S GHOST STORY?

Scene from Little Opera Theater of New York's production of Britten's Owen Wingrave

Encouraged by three recent positive experiences of Benjamin Britten (two productions of Albert Herring and Xeni Tziouvaras' performance of his Charm of Lullabies, we approached a performance of his Owen Wingrave with enthusiasm. We left with disappointment verging on despair. 

Written for television in 1970, Myfanwy's Piper's libretto is an etiolated adaptation of Henry James' eerie ghost story, here made into an anti-war screed masquerading as a family drama. The horror is as absent as the vowels in Ms. Piper's given name. (Even the homosexual hints have been removed, although that did not create a problem in terms of focusing on the hero's determination to resist the military.)

The absence of titles and the unclear diction of many members of the cast obviated a clear understanding of the finer points of the story although the superior acting abilities of the cast got the major points across. 

We have come to think of operas written after the middle of the 20th c. as "plays with music". In this case, the "play" was insufficiently dramatic and the lines were often like lectures, not like dialogue.

The music was unmusical. We didn't expect any gorgeous melodic arias but we were dismayed by the dialogues and especially the monologues which could have told us something about the character "singing" it. (By contrast, the arias heard last night in Massenet's Hérodiade each told us something about the character and his/her situation.)

Maestro Richard Cordova probably enjoyed conducting this challenging score but it was difficult to listen to. No doubt the musicians in the chamber orchestra (orchestration was by David Matthews) played well but we got no pleasure from listening.

The spare set by Josh Smith comprised tables, chairs, and a bed. Nothing more was needed. His lighting design went a long way toward creating an eerie mood that James' story called for.

Lara de Bruijn's costumes were drab and perfectly appropriate to the late 19th c.

Philip Shneidman's direction seemed as static as the story. People stood around or sat. Seeing someone climb a flight of stairs seemed compelling by comparison.

Alex Basco Koch's projections were perhaps the most interesting element of the production, helping to repurpose the simple set from one scene to another. The grand outward appearance of the Paramore ancestral manse was projected above the set and the interior was decorated by projections of portraits revealing the family's military heritage.

Coming from a military family, the hero's refusal to complete his martial education arouses the disgust of his family, his girlfriend, and his ancestral manor. They vilify hime and drive him to his death, which should have been more "ghostly" but wasn't. He is accused of lacking courage and his "intended" insists he demonstrate his courage by sleeping in a room in which a father and son had previously died.

The theme of the tormenting and rejection of the outsider is a theme dear to Britten's heart and baritone Robert Balonek did a fine job of portraying this self-determined young man who refuses to follow the life plan for which he was intended. His diction was clear and, for the most part, understandable.

Similarly, as his military instructor Spencer Coyle, bass Matthew Curran cut a fine figure and made the words clear. Unfortunately, the rest of the cast were only occasionally comprehensible, which may be due partly to the fact that the vocal line was not designed to be understood and the lengthy phrases did not resemble spoken or sung speech. Instead they came across as written text.

We have no criticism of any of the voices. Indeed it is impossible to appreciate a singer's technique with material like this. Fortunately, we have heard and enjoyed their voices under more felicitous circumstances.

What we can say is that the acting was persuasive with soprano Emily Pulley portraying a very rejecting maiden aunt. Presumably, Mrs. Julian is a family hanger-on and soprano Mary Ann Stewart was as fine in the role as mezzo-soprano Katherine Pracht was as her daughter Kate, the one who eggs on Mr. Wingrave to his death. Tenor Bernard Holcomb portrayed Owen Wingate's friend Lechmere.

As the grandfather General Sir Philip Wingrave, tenor Rufus Müller was appropriately nasty, disinheriting his grandson. The only kindly character was Coyle's wife, nicely portrayed by soprano Janice Hall.

Nothing pains us more than seeing a waste of talent, time, and resources. With so many undiscovered gems out there, it's a pity to see this happen.

(c) meche kroop

Coming from a military family, his refusal to complete his martial education arouses the disgust of his family, his girlfriend, and his ancestral manor.

PRINCE OF PLAYERS

John Kaneklides, Shea Owens, and Jessica Sandidge (photo by Tina Buckman)

Little Opera Theatre of New York, referred to as LOTNY, has been around for a dozen years. Grand in ambition and great in execution, we have trouble with the adjective "little". Founder and Artistic Director Philip Shneidman knows how to put on a show; for the premiere of Carlisle Floyd's opera Prince of Players, he has assembled a talented production team and two wildly talented casts and put them through their dramatic paces with great style.

The libretto was adapted from Jeffrey Hatcher's oft revived play Compleat Female Stage Beauty, which also spawned the film Stage Beauty in 2002. The story, inspired by an entry in the diary of Samuel Pepys, seems to have been little altered. There are two main themes: the first is the difficulty of adapting to a radical change of politics (a very current concern!) and the second is reflective of last night's review of Opera Lafayette's production of Leonore--the theme of a woman rescuing a man.

We are in London in 1661 and Charles II has regained the throne, ending twenty years of repressive Puritan rule. Edward Kynaston, so movingly portrayed by baritone Shea Owens, is famous for performing female roles, since women had not been permitted on the stage. Samuel Pepys (spoken by Hunter Hoffman) acknowledged Kynaston as the most beautiful actor on the stage...and the most beautiful woman in London.

His female dresser Margaret Hughes is not only in love with him but wants very much to be him and to strut the boards. She copies his every gesture. Soprano Jessica Sandidge created a most believable character, carefully balancing her love for him with her competitiveness.

As his friend and lover Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, tenor John Kaneklides was totally convincing and delivered a very fine aria in which every word, enunciated in a plummy English accent, was understandable--something which we wish we could say about everyone.

The pompous King Charles II was played by tenor Nicholas Simpson who also managed some fine singing, superb acting, and clear diction, in spite of being in the upper register a great deal of the time.

As his mistress Nell Gwynne, petite soprano Sharin Apostolou (barely half the size of the King) had the spirit of a woman twice her size. She also longed to play upon the stage and was partly responsible for the King's edict to give women the right to perform. Her big moment came when she sang a folk ballad for her audition, a moment we truly enjoyed.

Bass Matthew Curran portrayed the theater manager Thomas Betterton who will do anything to keep his theater afloat and will steer his ship through the eddies of the current political climate.

Smaller roles were just as well cast and performed. Comic relief was provided by two hilarious performances: Soprano Michelle Trovato played Miss Frayne while mezzo-soprano Hilary Ginther portrayed Lady Meresvale. The scene in which they try to find out Kynaston's gender was hilarious. But it turned ugly when Sir Charles Sedley (effectively played by tenor Neal Harrelson) appeared, seeking sexual favors.  Kynaston played along with a prank in which he tried to sell the favors of his two lady companions. Sedley was outraged and humiliated when he discovered Kynaston's male equipment and developed a vengeful streak.

This vengeful streak led him to have our hero badly beaten, giving Ms. Hughes the opportunity to rescue him and nurse him back to health. Then she does something that leads to his transformation.  More, we will not tell you!

Mezzo Jane Shaulis had great fun with her role as Mistress Revels, putting poor Kynaston onstage in a bawdy performance in a tavern, way beneath his talent but the only job he could get once his roles were taken by women. It was the hallmark of a fine performance to witness Kynaston's descent from fame and arrogance to shame and humiliation--and later to....no, we won't tell you the ending!

The direction was right on point and we felt as if we were watching a fine play. The set by Neil Patel and Cate McCrea utilized the stage of the Kaye Playhouse at Hunter College to create a playing area in the center with balcony seating created on either side with metal risers. It was most effective, as was Nick Solyom's lighting.

Costumes by Lara De Bruijn were outstanding and completely a propos the 17th c.  Wigs by Rachel Padula Shufelt looked great, except for Kynaston's which always looked unconvincing.

So...as theater it worked brilliantly and we were very entertained and also moved by the characters.  But this is an opera and we have yet to mention the music!

Taste in music is a very personal thing and, in spite of giving Mr. Floyd's music our full concentration, we were unable to find much to enjoy, although he is considered America's preeminent composer. After last night's Gavreau and the prior night's Handel, this music sounded unmusical to our ears. We were sort of okay with the orchestral interludes, beautifully played by the orchestra conducted by Richard Cordova. We heard something of value in the sex scene between Kynaston and Villiers. The pompous music for King Charles sounded about right. 

But for the rest of the time we did not experience the music as adding to the drama or the development of the characters. We felt very sorry about that because the elderly Mr. Floyd was present in the audience and we would have so much enjoyed congratulating him, but could not. 

We have heard these singers on prior occasions and they all have splendid voices but this music could not show them off to their best advantage. For that, one needs long legato lines.  English text discourages that feature.

It is just possible that this story does not require music. Or perhaps it wanted something more melodic. Perhaps Mr. Floyd's music will thrill you in a way that did not thrill us.

We are however pleased to recommend the production and hereby let you know that this superlative cast will be singing the Sunday matinee performance.  Examination of the other cast lets us advise you with confidence that tonight's performance will be just as enjoyable.

(c) meche kroop