(NOT SO) SILENT NIGHT

Brittany Renée and Daniel Okulitch

We approached Paula Prestini's production of Silent Light as we generally do, avoiding the reading of Director's Notes. We like to see if a work of art speaks for itself, without explanation.  As we recall from 15 years ago, The Carlos Reygadas film with the same title, although not our favorite, spoke for itself. By means of the absence of music, relying strictly on sound effects, visual metaphor, and spare speech by the principles, Reygadas drew a portrait of an unusual subculture, that of Mennonites living in Mexico, near Chihuahua.

Whilst watching the film, never once did we wish for a musical soundtrack. The visuals had a melody and rhythm of their own. We fail to understand why the esteemed composer thought it a good idea to compose music to decorate this work which never asked for it. We will not comment on the quality of the music, only point out that we found some pleasure in the rare quieter passages and some pain in the more raucous ones. 

During the love-making scene the music was particularly discordant; we couldn't help thinking of the music Richard Strauss composed for the opening scene of Der Rosenkavalier which was luscious and sensual, and referenced the climax with a series of "whoops" that let us know we were in for a light-hearted comedic ride.

Speaking of the sex scene (and we generally have no negative reactions to them) we found this one particularly gratuitous, in that it told us nothing about the relationship between the two lovers. (What we recall from the film is that the man left his children sitting outside in his truck whilst having it on with his paramour. And that told us something!)  By comparison, the stoic appearance of the characters in other scenes told us a lot about this laconic community.

For those of you who do not know the story, it is about a supposedly pious married man who is devoted to his wife and many children--but not sufficiently devoted to avoid an entanglement with a single woman member of the same community. He confides in his friend and in his father and to all appearances, seems tortured by this conflict. He claims to be "in love" with this woman but what we witness is lust, not love. It is an old story with an interesting twist. He has told his wife about the affair and watches her suffer. The two women know each other.

Onto this framework, Ms. Prestini has composed music that did nothing to add to our understanding. Esteemed and awarded as she may be, this is just not our kind of music. The vocal lines offered nothing to hold one's ear. Royce Vavrek's libretto was often impossible to hear over the brass-heavy music.

It is difficult to evaluate a vocal performance under such circumstances although a most illustrious cast was assembled. Under the direction of Thaddeus Strassberger, the performances were admirable. Daniel Okulitch was persuasive as the tortured husband Johan and Brittany Renee was completely convincing as the miserable wife Esther.  Julia Mintzer portrayed Marianne, Johan's paramour, and we are sure she was directed to be non-seductive; there was no way to understand the attraction the husband had for her. This must be intentionally left mysterious and undisclosed.

Our favorite performance was that of Anthony Dean Griffey as Johan's friend Zacarias because, of all the singers, he handled the English diction the best. When there are no subtitles, we must rely completely on the singer. Margaret Lattimore did an excellent job as Esther's mother, and her expressive face told us how she felt about her son-in-law.

As Johan's father we heard James Demler and Margaret Carpenter Haigh took the role of his mother. The pair appeared to be dairy farmers and the cows were portrayed by female members of the chorus (The Choir of Trinity Wall Street) wearing cow masks on their heads. We were not alone in feeling uncomfortable watching them being "milked". We wondered if the director wanted to say something about the role of women in this community.

Perhaps it was just part of the intention to make the experience an immersive one. As the work opened and the projected stars faded in the sky, Johann pours himself a cup of coffee. Then Esther comes in and prepares breakfast for the group. Yes, she actually cooks in real time and we were reminded of our very first theatrical experience in which a solo artist baked "Sweet Nut Bread to Make Your Mouth Water" while delivering her monologue, and then served it to the audience. No, Esther did not share the pancakes with us but then we expect to remember the former work long after Silent Light will be forgotten.

Mr. Strassberger's set design was apt, the furniture appearing no more than spare and functional. A complete kitchen occupied  one side of the stage and a workshop on the other side which was also utilized as a farm. A raised platform served as the cab of a truck. Bruce Steinberg's lighting was most effective as were the projections by Greg Emetaz.  Whilst Johann and Esther are driving in the rain, the illusion of being in a truck or auto was created with the projection of the shadow of a windshield wiper. Other special effects lent a sense of reality. When Esther runs out into the rain with an umbrella, water fell from above in torrents--in the same spot that was previously used to create the illusion of a pond where the children frolicked.

The performing area was wide, as were the two rows of seating. Therefore, one's point of view varied with one's location. The fortunate few sitting in the center of two long rows got an excellent view, but the rest of us, sitting to the sides, had our view blocked by the members of the chorus who were sitting directly in front. Such are the discomforts of an awkward playing space, as is the problem of the placement of the musicians. In this case, the conductor Maestro Christopher Rountree was only a couple feet away and the musicians--heavy on the brass with trumpet and trombone, as well as a cello and violin and a percussionist, playing behind what appeared to be a plastic screen.

The Foley effects (by Nathan Repasz) like chirping crickets and a loudly ticking clock were intense. Amanda Gladu was responsible for the costuming--overalls for the men and shapeless drab dresses for the women.

We always try to bring someone new to the opera, hoping to make converts. Alas, the visual artist who accompanied us may never be willing to set foot in an opera house. What a gap there is between traditional opera and what is currently being called opera!

© meche kroop

AS THE SCREW TURNS

Ashley Emerson and Jennifer Check

We have just had an experience that compares with most operagoing experiences as a dinner at La Grenouille would compare with a fine dinner at home. It was way more than delicious and nourishing; it was one of those evenings that will be indelibly etched in our memory. It was Britten's Turn of the Screw performed on the beautiful estate Wave Hill.

Eric Einhorn's concept for On Site Opera is to produce just such experiences that add up to more than the sum of their parts. There is always a location that amounts to way more than seats in an audience facing a stage with sets. There is always an intimacy with the story and the singers. It must be quite a challenge to find just the right location for any given story but it always works.

There was not enough space for more than a fortunate few and we count ourself among them. Because you, dear reader, probably did not make the cut (the show having sold out within minutes of its announcement), we would like to cut right to the chase and describe the experience. Trust our judgment on the point that the parts were superbly cast and magnificently acted and sung and that Geoffrey McDonald's conducting of his chamber orchestra made the most of Britten's score, adding layer upon layer of anxiety and suspence. 

A team of guides handed each one of us a lantern and guided us through the pathways until we reached a gothic looking building with a balcony from which a narrator introduced us to the story. The opera is based upon a gothic ghost story--a novella by Henry James. Myfanwy Piper wrote the concise and effective libretto.

Next we met The Governess in the person of soprano Jennifer Check, in perfect period costume, who led us to the front door of the country house where she was to take care of two orphaned children, without ever bothering their uncle who had hired her. She shared her excitement and anxiety with us and even asked someone to hold her suitcase whilst she opened the front door.

From then on we felt like a fly on the wall, observing her meeting the housekeeper Mrs. Grose (mezzo-soprano Margaret Lattimore) and then her two charges who stood holding photographs of the former governess Miss Jessell and the valet Peter Quint, both of whom had died recently. 

The children had been instructed by Mrs. Grose to bow and curtsy but we knew instantly that something was wrong. One couldn't have seen the subtle facial expressions underlying their politesse at the Met but it was obvious from a few yards away.

It seemed clear to us that The Governess is not going mad when she sees the ghosts of Mr. Quint and Miss Jessell. (We have seen a film in which she is portrayed as hysterical and the children as needing to be rescued from her care.)

As Mr. Einhorn has so astutely directed the action, moving the audience from one room of the large mansion to another, the illusion of knowing the characters took hold and gripped us by the throat. We lost the concept of ambiguity from James' novella and identified strongly with the terrified Governess as she faced the two ghosts.

Dominic Armstrong was completely riveting as Peter Quint; the way Mr. Einhorn directed his scenes with Miles (counter-tenor Jordan Rutter) we were convinced that Quint had seduced the boy whilst he yet lived and was trying to snatch his soul now that he had died. We rarely see such a portrayal of evil onstage with Mr. Armstrong coloring his voice to match the text.

Adriana Zabala made a rather more sympathetic Miss Jessell. In a directorial coup,  there was a parallel scene with the current Governess and Miss Jessell walking the same pathway in tandem. This added to the gothic element of the storytelling and gave us the shivers. We wondered whether the poor (unnamed) Governess would also die. It is a mark of great storytelling and great acting that we were so caught up that we wanted to know what happened to her! Ms. Check made us feel on her side from the start.

As Flora, Ashley Emerson acted the part of a young girl with considerable success. As Miles, Mr. Rutter was totally convincing. He is small and slender of stature and his treble voice lent considerable verisimilitude. Both "children" gave evidence of secrets and secret lives.

Even Mrs. Grose, portrayed by mezzo-soprano Margaret Lattimore, seemed to have secrets, only some of which were shared with The Governess. At one point we saw her drop something in a cup of tea but were not sure for whom it was meant or whether it were poison or sedative. Ambiguity was everywhere and we believe James wanted us to be puzzled by unanswered questions.

The chamber orchestra was as Britten intended, comprising a string quartet plus a bass and one each of the necessary winds. The versatile instrumentalists seemed adept with the flutist handling piccolo and two registers of flutes; the oboist doubled on English Horn and the clarinetist switched to the Bass Clarinet, one of our favorite sounds in the orchestra. There was also a French Horn, a Bassoon, and a marvelous harpist who created quite an atmosphere. 

The pianist and the percussionist added to the texture; there were chimes, some soft Kettle Drumming, and what might have been a celesta. We meant to inspect the percussion section after the curtain call but we were still in some kind of state that lasted until we got home. The atmosphere of the performance was so intense that at one point we accepted what occurred onstage as reality and felt as if we were a ghost.

The costuming by Amanda Seymour was perfect and completed the illusion that we were back in the 19th c.  What a completely strange experience! Talk about total immersion!!!

On Site Opera's contribution to the New York opera scene is valuable and unique. Our only regret is that his productions cannot accommodate more people.

© meche kroop

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

MET + JUILLIARD = MAGIC

Pureum Jo, Mario Chang, Alexey Lavrov and Ying Fang in L'Elisir d'Amore (photo by Nan Melville)

A satisfying synergy results when The Metropolitan Opera's Lindemann Young Artist Development Program partners with The Juilliard School.  We fondly recall the operas of seasons past and were sufficiently delighted by last night's entry, a concert of comic operas.  One of the major delights was hearing how the fine Juilliard Orchestra responded to the baton of our beloved James Levine.  Indeed the orchestra occupied the stage with the singers performing in a shallow space in front which unfortunately drowned out the voices on occasion.

We enjoyed lengthy scenes from four comic operas, two famous ones flanking two lesser known entries. The program opened with Act I of Mozart's Die Entführung aus dem Serail, known in English as The Abduction from the Seraglio, a seraglio being a harem.  Tenor Andrew Stenson made an appealing Belmonte, arriving at Pasha Selim's landhaus to find his dear Konstanze (the always excellent Ying Fang).  Bass-baritone Ryan Speedo Green turned in an hilarious performance as the gruff Osmin who denies entry to Belmonte.  Tenor Benjamin Bliss portrayed the wily servant Pedrillo in as fine a portrayal of this role as we have heard.  Baritone Jake Alan Nelson seemed to be the only undergraduate on the program but was excellent in the role of Pasha Selim.

Igor Stravinsky's one act satire Mavra brought Daniel Stewart to the podium to conduct the arresting score, notable for its unusual combination of instruments, heavy on the winds and light on the strings.  He was highly successful at bringing out the idiosyncratic harmonies and unpredictable rhythms.  It has been a bit over a year since we saw Mavra performed by the Mannes School of Music and we are compelled to say that the staging and costumes made it seem funnier than last night's performance.  The work was performed in English which we found unsatisfying due to the verbal accents colliding with the musical accents.  Nonetheless, Mary-Jane Lee sang beautifully as Parasha, the wayward daughter of the bourgeois Mother who is moaning about the loss of her cook.  What a pleasure to hear the divine Margaret Lattimore in that role with another fine mezzo-soprano Lacey Jo Benter as The Neighbor.  Mr. Bliss reappeared as the Hussar who gains access to the house by donning drag and getting hired as the new servant.

Benvenuto Cellini may not have the most interesting plot but Berlioz' muscular music is riveting and Maestro Levine marshalled the forces of the large orchestra to great effect.  The brief appearance of superb bass-baritone Brandon Cedel was nearly submerged in the huge avalanche of sound.  But Ms. Fang's focused upper register cut right through in Teresa's aria, as did Anthony Kalil's terrific tenor as the eponymous hero.  Their love duet was, well, lovely.  Baritone Yunpeng Wang provided comic relief as the rejected lover Fieramosca, eavesdropping and slithering along the floor.

The program ended with a scene from Donizetti's L'Elisir d'Amore, the scene in which Nemorino purchases his love potion from Dulcamara and proceeds to get inebriated.  Tenor Mario Chang excelled as the unfortunate imbiber with Mr. Green, in cloak and top hat, employing his big booming bass as the wily Doctor D.  Nemorino's rival was sung by baritone Alexey Lavrov who put his own stamp on the role of Sergeant Belcore.  Soprano Pureum Jo sang the role of Adina's friend Gianetta and Adina herself was performed by Ying Fang whose bel canto technique is impressive, filled with thrills and trills and pinpoint scale passages.

Although our preference would have been for a fully staged opera we were pleased to have the opportunity to hear some of our favorite young singers essaying new territory.  And as we said at the start, the orchestra blew us away.

© meche kroop