SHOWCASE OR NEW OPERA COMPANY?

Enes Pektas as Michele

Sarah Stevens as Giorgetta and David Freides as Luigi

With his typical modest manner, Glenn Morton, Director of Classic Lyric Arts Vocal Academy, introduced CLAVA's debut opera performance at The Blue Gallery. As a member of the audience we are not obligated to be modest. As a matter of fact, we are over the moon about a completely engaging performance of Il Tabarro, one third of Puccini's  Il Trittico. The singing was stellar with major roles performed by members of CLAVA and supporting roles cast with graduates of CLA's  immersive summer programs in Italy, France, and The Berkshires.

Adding to the immeasurable vocal thrills of the evening were three factors. The finely tuned direction of Daniel Isengart (a CLAVA Faculty Member) told the timeless story with specificity of detail and characterological honesty.  The conducting by Maestro Michelle Rofrano  built the intensity of Puccini's score to a fever pitch, relaxing only briefly for the dancing scene. The piano artistry of Doug Han who, by some kind of magic, created all the colors of the orchestra.

Mr. Isengart's stage direction was so specific that our guest, who speaks no Italian, was able to relate the story to us after the curtain.  And no, he did not read the synopsis. This was an experiment because there were no projected titles. Not only was the story well told, but each character was believable, evoking memories of real people.

As Michele, the Captain of the barge, we heard baritone Enes Pektas, whose Master's Degree recital we recently reviewed. (You can, Dear Reader, enter his name in the search bar if you missed the review.) His acting was so intense and brooding that we lost sight of the artist as someone we have seen and heard before. He actually became the character and we felt the pain of being betrayed. Although Giuseppi Adami's libretto is set a century ago, the story is a timeless one. The narcissistic injury endured by a man in a loveless marriage unable to retain his wife's affection can easily turn to murderous rage. That story is not unknown today.  The sullen vocal color infused Mr. Pektas' portrayal whilst he preserved his beautiful tonal quality and phrasing.

As his unhappy wife Giorgetta, soprano Sara Stevens (also reviewed several times this year for her performances as a Master's Degree student at Manhattan School of Music) turned in a most affecting performance. By means of vocal coloration she demonstrated the coldness she felt for her much older husband and the feminine energy she projected with Luigi, a stevedore on the barge. By some fine acting one could sense that she and her lover had a past that they shared. Indeed they both came from the same suburb of Paris and probably grew up together. All this was conveyed with facial gesture and posture, but probably came from a deep belief in the character. 

There was the lighthearted side of Giorgetta as well, when she brought wine to the stevedores and danced. There was even a funny moment when Tinca (played by John Viscardi, once a CLA student but now Coach and Artistic Director) tried clumsily to dance with her and stepped on her toes.

The character of Luigi the lover was wisely drawn by tenor David Freides who was careful not to make him too sympathetic. Did he deserve his fate? That was left for the viewer to decide. That he sang with beautiful tone might have prejudiced the audience to more sympathy than he deserved.

It is said in the theater that there are no small parts and that seems to be true in opera as well.  As evidence we offer the fine performance of mezzo-soprano Sofia Durante as La Frugola who comes on board with trinkets and gossip that she shares with Giorgetta. She immersed herself so completely in this voluble role that it took us a few minutes to recognize her as someone we have heard in concert several times before. 

As her husband Talpa, Alejandro De Los Santos made an equally fine showing. The carefree domestic affection between this pair served as counterpoint to the tense relationship between Michele and Giorgetta. This is something we never perceived before and for this we thank the direction.

As far as the setting, there is no actual stage in The Blue Gallery. A metal bar stretched horizontally across the playing area and we had no trouble perceiving it as the railing of the barge. Stevedores toting large boxes across the stage added to the illusion and reminded us that much can be accomplished with minimal material resources and a lot of imagination.

The minor characters were portrayed by Samuel Ng and Sofia Gotch singing from behind the audience and in a space up near the ceiling. This was not a problem since it served to focus attention on the major characters. Costuming was minimal and timeless.

Everything served to show us that opera is theater with gorgeous voices. Famous names and elaborate sets are not as important as the music and the storytelling, of which we had the very best!

A couple years ago the late and lamented On Site Opera produced this same opera at The Seaport (review can be found in the search bar) with action taking place on a ship and the audience seated on the dock. We enjoyed the realism but the voices required amplification. This made last night's performance even more valuable as we heard Puccini's vocal lines delivered with musicality and authenticity.

Without the obligation of bringing in famous names to fill a huge theater, opera can once again be restored to its original function and we applaud this aim. This opera was chosen by CLAVA, not to please an audience, but because they had the right singers for the roles. Would this model work for a small opera company in Manhattan? We very much think so and will be first in line for their next venture. Was this experience valuable for the young artists who participated in CLAVA? We definitely think so. Academic institutions cast them in contemporary operas no one else will ever produce, or in weird productions of great operas. But to get a chance to perform in an authentic production of a great opera means that they can sing these roles anywhere in the world. And we hope that they will!!!!!

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CAME FOR THE BRAHMS, STAYED FOR THE MENDELSSOHN

 Chaeyoung Park, Aristo Shan, Erin Wagner, Megan Moore, Daniel McGrew and Randall Scarlata

Regular readers will recall our respect for Young Concert Artists. For six decades they have been discovering young artists in the field of classical music, developing their respective artistry, and launching their respective careers. The means by which they achieve this consist of a three year program encompassing mentorship, community engagement, debut recitals, and worldwide performance opportunities. Indeed some of our very favorite young singers have been brought to our attention through YCA.

Monday night's 2025 Season Finale  offered the opportunity to hear young artists in both vocal and instrumental fields, the latter of which we rarely have time to attend since vocal recitals and operas keep us very busy. We will address the vocal portion of the program first but please, Dear Reader, stay until the end since we made a rare discovery in the instrumental field.

The vocal portion of the evening comprised selections from Brahms' Liebeslieder Waltzes Op. 52, a work we have enjoyed and reviewed many times. Brahms' vocal output is perhaps less profound  than that  of Schubert, but his gifts are not at all lesser in impact. We love the folksy melodies and the simple emotions conveyed therein.  We particularly love the way he wrote for various combinations of voices.

And therein lies our disappointment in this particular performances. We attribute the problem to the acoustics of the hall. Although individually the tone and expressiveness of the voices were fine, the balance between the voices was uneven. Sounding the best were the voices of the two mezzo-sopranos, Erin Wagner and Megan Moore who blended beautifully. But when tenor Daniel McGrew and baritone Randall Scarlata joined in, the balance shifted so far to their "side" that Brahms' exquisite balance was lost. Pianist for the performance were Chaeyoung Park and Aristo Shan, both of whom were heard during the evening in works by respectively Prokofiev and the contemporary Zhou Tian.

Fortunately, the favorable impact of the evening was restored by a glorious performance of Mendelssohn's String Octet in E-flat major, Op.20.  The four movement architecture was familiar and very much of the period, offering a lively Allegro followed by a pleasingly tuneful Andante. However, it was the Scherzo that bedazzled our ears. Building the excitement to fever pitch was the use of a motif repeated in higher and higher keys. We are far from expert in instrumental music but anything that reminds us of vocal fioritura pleases us enormously.

Considering the artistry of eight string players in three "fachs"--violin, viola, and cello--they exhibited great variety of color with interweaving melodies and strong rhythmic pulse. We will end by heaping praise on the lead violinist Lun Li whose violin seemed to be a dancing partner. There was an intimacy between artist and instrument that we have never seen or heard before--a partnership that kept us on the edge of our seat. They not only danced together but Mr. Li made the violin sing.

In hearing the human voice, the artist and the instrument are physically one and the same  In this case Man and Violin acted as one in a spiritually transcendent manner. We simply could not get over the impact. We single out this performance as being ground breaking although the other seven string players were excellent.

We do not read program notes until after the performance, wanting to approach the performance as a neophyte. However, we were not surprised to learn of Mr. Li's many honors but reading that he was playing a 1735 Stradivarius on loan from the Nippon Music Foundation put us in a state of awe. We had never heard a Stradivarius before and we can only say that the treasured violin was in the right hands. We kind of wish it belonged to him in fact as well as in spirit.

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THE GERDA LISSNER FOUNDATION VOCAL COMPETITION WINNERS CONCERT 2024/2025

 Top Row: Magdalena Kuzma, Giorgi Guliashvili,, Tatev Baroyan, Sofia Gotch, and Shelén Hughes

Bottom Row: Amanda Batista, Erin Wagner, Michael John Butler, Bridget Esler, and Ashlyn Rock

The generosity of the Gerda Lissner Foundation is legendary--not just generosity in awarding prizes to young singers but also generosity toward the opera loving public. Free tickets to a grand show were offered to the public and a better show could not be provided for any amount of money.  The ten chosen singers are accomplished and already sought after by opera companies around the country and also abroad. Still, young singers need all the help they can get when government assistance for the arts is virtually non existent with no hope for improvement in the near future--and this foundation provides such assistance.

Last night at Zankel Hall, ten superb artists got the opportunity to show off their respective artistry. We have decided to ignore our copious notes and to summarize our overall impressions of how singers present themselves at such events and also to highlight performances that stuck with us overnight. Here let us mention that we are neither judge nor vocal coach and that our impressions are biased by a number of factors. 

There are singers whose growth we have been witnessing over a number of years and toward whom we admittedly feel a certain attachment. There are languages we prefer to hear. There are musical periods that resonate more strongly than others. (This is a circumspect way of saying we don't much care for contemporary works or the English language.)

One thing we observed is that the way singers choose to present themselves may or may not reflect their best qualities. One would hope that their teachers or coaches might point them toward works that show off their unique gifts. A singer may really enjoy singing a particular work that just isn't meant for them. On the other hand, a singer taking pleasure in a particular song or aria might just involve the audience to a greater degree.

With this is mind, we are going to ignore our copious notes and dip into our feelings to highlight the performances that resonated with us personally. The first one that comes to mind is that of Erin Wagner whose Mignon lied "Kennst du das Land" by Hugo Wolf transported us to a feeling of nostalgia for a place that we, like Mignon in the Goethe story, may not return to. It brought tears to our eyes which is not a bad thing. Much can be said for catharsis and shared feelings.

The second one that comes to mind is soprano Shelén Hughes' performance of the Snow Maiden's aria from Rimsky-Korsakov's Snegurechka. We have heard her sing this aria many times, the first being when she was a student at Manhattan School of Music. It was our first exposure to the opera and we were enchanted by the fairy tale and the composer's melodic gifts which Ms. Hughes brought to vivid life.

The third one that comes to mind is soprano Sofia Gotch's depiction of an innocent young woman's awakening to love in "Caro nome" from Verdi's Rigoletto. Every vocal ornament so magnificently rendered by Ms. Gotch served to highlight Gilda's romantic rapture.  

The gusto with which tenor Michael Butler sang Strauss' "Heimliche Aufforderung" had an immediate uplifting effect on our spirits. Soprano Amanda Batista's interpretation of Mimi in Puccini's La Bohême showed us two sides of her character, the somewhat brazen flirtation alternating with a reactive shyness, which struck us as typical of the very young experimenting with mating behavior.

When a singer adds dancing to her performance, it is bound to make a lasting impression and soprano Tatev Baroyan got into the Roma spirit in Emmerich Kalman's "Heia, in den Bergen", from Die Czardasfürstin. And finally soprano Magdalena Kuzma gave a perfect interpretation of the playful Susana really laying it on to tease her husband Figaro by pretending to be anticipating a romantic tryst with the Count in Mozart's Nozze di Figaro.

We believe we have made the point that audience reaction is a very personal matter, relating to the mood and past experiences of the listener. We would like to point out that the excellent singers pictured above whom we did not mention were not inferior in any way. We just wanted to see what struck us without consulting our notes.

We would like to mention also the fine accompaniment of Francesco Barfoed, collaborative pianist for the first half of the program (art songs) and that of Arlene Shrut for the second half (arias). Our hostess for the evening was the delightful Midge Woolsey who did a fine job of summarizing each number in advance for audience members who were unfamiliar with the repertory.

We would also like to share our delight over the appearance of the honorees for the evening--mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke who was a competition winner fifteen years ago, accompanied by the renowned pianist Warren Jones. The pair shared a special piece written by Michael Tilson Thomas for Leonard Bernstein's 70th birthday. It was upbeat and jazzy and spoke of gratitude. We soaked that up like a sponge, feeling grateful for the Gerda Lissner Foundation, the collaborating Kosciuszko Foundation and all those gifted young singers who brought so much joy to our week.

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GABRIELLA REINA

 Andrés Sarre and Gabriella Reyes

Soprano Gabriella Reyes is, yes, every inch a queen and the adoring audience comprises her loyal subjects. She rules by means of a generous instrument with many colors, by means of supernal audience rapport, by means of a deep understanding of the text, and by means of that intangible Latin American soul, a quality that manifests in most Latin American music.

We love hearing emerging artists at the inception of their careers and then, sadly, we lose sight (and sound) of them as they make their way through opera stages around the country and around the world. It is a cause for celebration when they return to New York City and we can bear witness to the fulfillment of their potential.

In the case of "La Reina" we first heard her at the Metropolitan Council National Competition Finals eight years ago when she dazzled the audience with "Il est doux, il est bon" from Massenet's Herodiade and took a leap into the then-new territory of Daniel Catan's Florencia en el Amazonas. We made note of the ear-thrilling upper register and fine vibrato.

Her acceptance into the Lindemann Program gave us two further opportunities to hear her facility with different repertory. We recall some Strauss songs which fit her large voice like a glove, and a couple performances of "Carceleras" from Chapi's Las hijas de Zebedeo--memorable because we are so fond of of zarzuela, so fond that we sat in the summer rain to enjoy it.

And we heard Ms. Reyes the following summer at the Santa Fe Opera where she made quite a sensation as an ice-skating Musetta in Puccini's La Bohême. Is there anything this versatile artist cannot do? Now that we have stirred the pot of our memory we recall a very moving performance of Liu's aria "Tu che di gel sei cinta" from Puccini's Turandot.

Last night, gracias a Dios, she returned to New York City for her first solo recital (coulda fooled us on that point) at Carnegie Recital Hall. Most recitals attempt to show off the singer in a range of styles and languages, but Ms. Reyes is no ordinary artist. She held the audience captive with a well curated program of Spanish songs, most of which were new to us. Along with her superb collaborative pianist Andrés Sarre, she treated us to songs from all over Latin America--from Argentina, Mexico, Brazil, and Peru. We even heard songs sung in Quechua, a language we don't understand but one we recognize since a Peruvian friend has sung for us in that language. 

Each song brought out a different aspect of Ms. Reyes' vocal technique, here a very expansive upper register, there a deeply affecting vibrato, here a significant pause, there an exquisite pianissimo.  But each song was melodic, reminding us that the lamentable influences of serialism and atonalism that infected 20th century vocal music in Europe and the United States was nowhere to be heard. The Latin American soul is too sensual and passionate to fall for such intellectualism. Most of these 20th century composers made good use of folk music and refined it with European technique.

We did have a couple favorites and our top choice was the second encore, a delightful song extolling the virtues of Ms. Reyes' ancestral homeland--Nicaragua; it is said to be Nicaragua's unofficial anthem. Another favorite was Victor Carajo's "La niña de Guatemala" in which the poet José Marti tells a story that would make a fine opera. The poet describes a funeral and alternates verses about how a married lover broke the girl's heart.  There was another song by Enrique Soro entitled "Storia d'una bimba" in which the poet Angelo Bignotti relates, in Italian, a tender story that seems to tell of a man who watches a beautiful little girl grow into womanhood. The coloration of the music and voice suggest a tinge of sorrow or nostalgia as the poet watches someone else kissing her forehead as he used to. 

It's only been about a year or two since Ms. Reyes' notable gifts brought her back to sing at the Metropolitan Opera. How fortunate we feel to have experienced these gifts "up close and personal". A solo recital is truly a glimpse into the heart of an artist. We loved what we saw and heard!

© meche kroop

THE LITTLE (MERMAID) MENTAL PATIENT

Benjamin R. Sokol, Fernando Silva-Gorbea, Sara Stevens, Qing Liu, and Su Hyeon Park

Some topnotch singing, acting, and orchestral luminosity delighted our ears last night at Manhattan School of Music Graduate Opera Theatre's production of Antonin Dvořák's Rusalka. We unfortunately had to deal with an ill-advised example of regietheater devised by Director John de los Santos, whose direction we usually enjoy. According to the Director's Notes which we generally read after viewing the production, Mr. de los Santos was inspired by the fact that the building occupied by Manhattan School of Music was once an asylum for the mentally ill.

Regular readers will recall that we strongly prefer a work that speaks for itself, allowing us to draw our own analogies, which we did and may choose to share  later on. The director's concept was to transform the water spite Rusalka into a mental patient around the turn of the 20th century, just about the time that Jaroslav Kvapil wrote his libretto, adapted from a fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen (and others)  which was, in turn, devised from a few Slavic folk legends about women water sprites who lured men to their death by tickling (!) or drowning.

In this production, Michael Ruiz-del-Vizo's double decker set design had an institutional appearance whilst Ashley Soliman's costume design had some of the characters in period costume with the inmates in drab identical shapeless garb. We deliberately called them inmates because the attendants treated them like prisoners, which, in a sense they were. (Dear Reader, do read about the Kennedy sister who was similarly imprisoned at the behest of her father Joseph.)

The stage was filled with efficient nurses in crisp nursing attire and guards with numbered arm bands, against whom the inmates struggled. Inmates were chained together cruelly by ropes and led around. It seemed more political than medical, with the exception of a kindly doctor who stood in for the opera's Vodnik, a water goblin that the water sprites call their father, except here he is their well meaning doctor. In this role, Benjamin R. Sokol used his resonant lower register and kindly demeanor to good advantage, singing with fine tone and sympathetic inflection.

As Rusalka, super soprano Sara Stevens (see what we did there?) threw herself into the role and gave the director exactly what he wanted and, through her superlative singing, gave us what we wanted--a vocally impeccable performance. The coloration was admirable and she floated her high notes when appropriate and opened up her voice when that was dramatically called for. The deservedly famous aria "Song to the Moon" expressed a longing so deep that it brought tears to our eyes. If someone told us that Rusalka was chosen as a vehicle to show off her artistry we would believe them!

In this odd version of the story, The Prince, whilst singing about spotting a white doe while out hunting, seems to be someone who stops by the asylum to read to the patients. Fernando Silva-Gorbea employed a pleasing tenor instrument with enough tenderness that we felt sad when he was stabbed to death by Rusalka However, we were wondering how a dagger would have been left lying around in an insane asylum--just one of a number of inconsistencies caused by shoehorning the story into a Procrustean bed.

The witch Ježibaba was here some kind of matron/surgeon in strange steam-punk dress who seemed to be operating on Rusalka's brain, since the latter emerges from behind a screen with a bandage on her head that was so disfiguring that we were surprised that The Prince fell in love with her. Of course, the entire thing must have been the hallucination of a paranoid schizophrenic, although a lot of women in these asylums were consigned there for dubious reasons. Qing Liu gave a fine performance in the role, employing a threatening demeanor and steely vocal coloration.

There was even some comic relief during the interaction between the Gamekeeper (Kevin Mann) and the frightened kitchen helper (Jordan Lee Gilbert) whose conversation served to advance the story about the Prince's affection wavering between Rusalka and The Foreign Princess, given an appropriate haughtiness by Su Hyeon Park.

Every voice we heard was of the highest equality, including the trio of Woodsprites (mental patients) comprising Xinran Du, Raine Filbert, and Yiqian Heng. Although Rusalka's "Song to the Moon" is the deservedly famous number, the trio in Act II would make as fine a concert piece as we have ever heard. 

Although Czech is not one of our languages, its plethora of consonants did not seem to hinder any of the singers and we were thrilled that the opera was sung in Czech since the composer's music is so well married to the text. Kudos to the large chorus and their chorus Master Jackson McKinnon.

Maestro Kelly Kuo led the Manhattan School of Music Orchestra through Dvořák's melodic and colorful score with excellent Slavic style. The weird storytelling was so distracting that at times we just closed our eyes and listened to the way the master composer told the story. Let us credit also the fine dramatic lighting of Ron Collins.

If we hadn't been force fed the director's concept, we might have been free to associate on our own, which is what storytelling should do. We imagined a small town girl who fell for a big city guy who was visiting her town and flirted with her because she was pretty and innocent. She followed him to the big city but couldn't match the sophistication and verbal expressiveness of his circle. She watched him getting infatuated with one of his own kind and returned home in despair, only to learn that she no longer fit in there and was ostracized. Now we certainly wouldn't foist that on other people but we sure enjoyed our own musings which, in our opinion, is what opera should do--give us something on stage that we can relate to on our own terms, from our own experiences.

In spite of the conflict between the dialogue and the visuals and switching back and forth between the folktale and the director's conceit, we were glad we went because of the overwhelmingly excellence of the musical values.

© meche kroop

NUN-PLUSSED

 

Curtain Call for Dialogues des Carmelites

We were privileged to have attended opening night of Juilliard Opera's outstanding production of Francis Poulenc's mid 20th century masterpiece Dialogues des Carmélites, for which he wrote both score and libretto. The choice of this opera, telling a disturbing story taking place during the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution, struck us as particularly timely inasmuch as we are on the verge of an upheaval in our own country. It certainly illustrates the consequences of unbridled anger between political factions with horrifying effects on innocent victims.

This is a fictionalized version of the story of the Martyrs of Compiègne, Carmelite nuns who, in 1794 during the closing days of the Reign of Terror  were guillotined in Paris for refusing to renounce their vocation.

Poulenc chose to set the work tonally giving the orchestra great variety of coloration. The vocal lines are predominantly recitativi  and follow the intonation of the French language, making us wonder how that could be accomplished within an ill-advised translation into English. Poulenc himself wished the work to be performed in the vernacular of any given country and indeed the work premiered in Italy--in Italian. Here in the USA, it has been given in French and in English so we were very happy that Juilliard elected to perform it in French.

So if there is nothing like an aria or duet to be enjoyed, one can still appreciate the melodic nature of the spiritual choruses, most notably the Salve Regina in the final scene as the nuns ascend the scaffolding to submit themselves to the blade of the guillotine. As the blade successively falls with a chilling thud, the voices are reduced until there are only the last two martyrs, the former aristocrat Blanche de la Force, excellently sung by mezzo-soprano Ruby Dibble, and the always cheerful Sister Constance, effectively portrayed by Moriah Berry.

A remarkable piece of acting was offered by mezzo-soprano Lauren Randolph as Madame de Croissy, the Prioress of the convent who dies a very unspiritual death, suffering such physical agony that she upsets the two young postulates. Before dying she puts Mother Marie of the Incarnation (well sung and acted by mezzo-soprano Anna Kelly) in charge of Blanche who has been recognized as needing emotional and spiritual support.

Indeed, Ms. Dibble, by means of vocal coloration as well as acting, made it perfectly clear in the opening scene that she was emotionally fragile . The political situation was discussed during that scene by the Marquis de la Force (superbly sung by the rich-voiced bass-baritone Son Jin Kim) and his son the Chevalier de la Force (beautifully sung by tenor Michael John Butler) who would later visit his sister in the convent with an offer of help that she refuses.

Maestro Matthew Aucoin marshaled the forces of the Juilliard Orchestra in a fashion that brought out the varying colors of each section and infused the overall performance with feelings of foreboding and terror, except for the aforementioned religious choruses. We heard some fine solos by a clarinet and great work from the brass section. If we are not mistaken, there were moments reflecting his earlier post WWI short ironic works.

Louisa Muller's direction was tight and straight to the point, fortunately avoiding anything superfluous. It was exactly the way the story needed to be told, holding one's interest throughout and leaving us feeling grief at the end. We do recognize that some very religious viewers might have found the ending spiritually uplifting. We recall a production in Santa Fe in which the director had an actual guillotine right onstage and as the blade fell, cabbages rolled across the stage. It was so convincing that patrons ran fleeing from the theater! It was a relief to be spared such realism.

Kara Harmon's costumes for the first scene had the aristocrats accurately clad in late 18th century glory, as were the soldiers who came in the last act to evict the nuns from their convent. The nuns were, well, dressed like nuns.

Wilson Chin's set design comprised just a few period pieces of furniture for the first scene and a very modern box-like structure with transparent walls to serve as the various rooms of the convent.

Before closing we would like to mention at least some of the other singers that contributed to the success of the evening. Soprano Jasmin Ward impressed as the new Prioress Madame Lidoine. In some "luxury casting" other sisters included Kate Morton and Naomi Steele. Yihe Wang did double duty as a servant and a doctor. Jin Yu was notable as the Chaplain. Jailers and soldiers included Zhongjiancheng Deng, Yoonsoo Jang, Lin Fan, Nazrin Aslan Alyman and Jack Hicks. 

© meche kroop

ON THE ROPES or KO

Sofia Gotch, Ya Gao, Yining Liu, Irene Hyun Young Shin, and Skyler La Nier

Händel's Rinaldo premiered in 1711 in London. In spite of its being a pastiche of melodies from other operas, it achieved immediate success, then lay dormant for centuries, until Baroque opera became popular once again in the 20th c. Perhaps its popularity rests on the fact that Händel used all his best melodies! 

Loosely based on Tasso's epic poem Gerusalemme Liberata, the work explores the themes of love, war, and redemption and is set during the time of the First Crusade, at the turn of the 12th century. The work provided materials for a number of operas and perhaps the subject is now a touchy one because of the battle between Christianity and the Muslim faith depicted onstage.

In a radical and radically truncated version produced by The Manhattan School of Music Graduate Opera Theater, Director George R. Miller chose to set the work as a presumably televised wrestling match in contemporary times. As is our wont, we never read the Director's Notes until after the opera in order to allow the work to speak for itself. Miller's work didn't speak, it screamed--at least as it opened with loud music (rap?  hiphop?) and an array of spectators at what we thought was a boxing ring, cheering and booing, carrying signs. We were rolling our disbelieving eyes

However, as the performance wore on, we were captivated by the musical values and, ultimately, came to appreciate, or at least to understand, what Mr. Miller was going for. Having eliminated all of the magic of the original to focus on both the battle between good and evil and the battle between the sexes, the playing area, which we thought was meant to be a boxing ring, began to make more sense. Except we began to suspect that it was a wrestling match with "anything goes" and a lot of performative fighting which was nonetheless convincing and wince-inducing.

The wacky costuming by Chloe Levy began to make more sense. The lovely heroine Almirena was played by the even lovelier Sofia Gotch who was dressed all in white with sparkly hair and delivered a "Lascia ch'io pianga" as fine as we've ever heard. Moreover, her acting as she manipulated her captor, the Muslim warrior Argante, was hilarious. At times, she posed like what we took to be a star of reality TV.

Argante was brilliantly portrayed by the burly voiced Skyler La Nier who was convincingly warrior-like in his all black Hell's Angel get up.  The eponymous Rinaldo was beautifully sung by Ya Gao whose "Cara sposa, amante cara" went right to the heart by dint of depth of feeling and varied dynamics.  A delicate body build was not the most convincing as a fighter, in spite of fatigue pants and wife-beater top.

The sorceress Armida was given a strong interpretation by Irene Hyun Young Shin, appearing very "goth" in studded black leather.  Her singing was marked by great facility with ornamentation of the vocal line. We particularly enjoyed her  "Ah! crudel, Il pianto mio" especially in the rapid-fire B section. Her performance as "the bad girl" was replete with snarling and quite effective. 

Duets between lovers were deftly handled with voices well matched and expressive.

As Almirena's father Gioffredo, Yining Liu added to the fine performances, although the costume puzzled us. Was the character supposed to be Rinaldo's trainer? And if so, why was Gioffredo joining the fighting? And wearing a suit with a red baseball cap? Perhaps we are just ignorant of wrestling matches.

There were umpires wearing black and white stripes and a couple sitting at a desk off to the side. Were they television commentators as they have at ice skating competitions? In any event, they provided excellent percussion accompaniment to the superb piano of Jeremy Chan and the equally superb harpsichord of Jocelyn Stewart, the two being Co-Music Directors. To say that the pair produced the colors of an orchestra would not be excessive praise. As a matter of fact, the reduction of the score gave us an opportunity to appreciate it in a new way.

As we left the theater, our thoughts wandered into the territory of the terrors of love, which Mozart had such fun with in Cosi fan tutte. In Rinaldo, the sorceress/biker-chick Armida loves Argante the Saracen/biker but tries to seduce Rinaldo. And Rinaldo's intended Almirena behaves very seductively toward Argante whilst being held prisoner. Jordan Jones in drag as a siren was hilarious in his attempt  to seduce Rinaldo. By the end of the opera we began to appreciate what Mr. Miller was going for--the battle between the sexes. No wonder the young cast and young audience enjoyed it so much!

© meche kroop