Displaying items by tag: Adrian Danzig

If you’re weary of Chicago’s delayed Spring, do yourself a favor and take a warming break with the sunny pairing of two rarely heard one act operas by Gaetano Donizetti as presented this chilly Saturday evening at the Studebaker Theater by Chicago Opera Theater.

“Il Pigmalione” was Donizetti’s first opera, completed when he was 19, studying at the Bologna Academy. He was a prolific and highly successful composer over three decades of the early 19th century. The comic opera “Rita” was written a quarter century later at the height of his musical and theatrical abilities. In between these operatic bookends are nearly 70 more operas. Only a few have remained in the standard repertoire: the beloved “Lucia di Lammermoor”, “The Elixir of Love”, “Don Pasquale”, and happily of late, the Tudor Queen operas. His other works are occasionally dusted off as a curiosity or a vehicle for an important singing artist. COT does much more than blow the dust off these two neglected pieces; they are infused with life in a thoughtful, loving and altogether winning way.

We have nothing but praise for Amy Hutchinson’s stage direction. It unfailingly served the music and the drama with a light touch which is, sadly, infrequent these days. Ms. Hutchinson trusts the material, the performers and, most importantly, the audience. Her abundant creativity is evident throughout, but she never bludgeons us with her “concept”. Both operas are set in post-World War II Italy, a time of hope and renewal. The press notes would have us think that during intermission, years pass and Pygmalion and Galatea age and develop into the characters for the second opera of the production. This contrivance is neither apparent nor necessary. If they were either, they wouldn’t need to be explained. The contrasting works go quite well together, yet each stand on their own merit as performed by the talented cast and creative team.

“Il Pigmalione” is based on Ovid’s telling of the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea; the sculptor who falls in love with his own creation - a beautiful statue of a woman - who comes to life. George Bernard Shaw’s play adaptation concerns not a sculptor and a block of marble, but a professor of phonics and a Cockney flower seller. This version was famously adapted for the Broadway stage by Lerner and Lowe, as “My Fair Lady” starring Julie Andrews, and an Oscar-winning movie featuring the exquisite Audrey Hepburn (with the voice of Marni Nixon), as Eliza Doolittle. An image reminiscent of Ms. Hepburn, or as Bill thinks, more like Sophia Loren, graces the COT promotional materials for the performance and sets the tone for a fresher look at the myth.

Recalling Mozartean strains of the 18th century, we find the artist Pigmalione alone in his shabby, cluttered studio surrounded by his works: paintings, photographs, films, - and a life size statue under wraps. In a space reminiscent of the garret of Puccini’s Bohemians, the distraught Pigmalione tastefully and poetically expresses his obsessive and rather creepy love for his sculpture, as a lonely person might for an inflatable sex aid.

Tenor Javier Abreu brought an ingenuous stage presence and uncommonly warm leggiero voice to the title role. He possesses an innate musicality and an affinity for the Bel Canto style. Florid passages were clean and elegant, but his highest notes lacked the clarion ring our ears wanted to hear. There were also a few awkward register changes, perhaps a technical issue, or as Bill suggested, perhaps the young Donizetti hadn’t yet learned how to write for the tenor voice, which, in time he would do so well. Mr. Abreu has tremendous talent, so we hope he will work those things out.

Projections designed by John Boesche, brought magic and charm to Pigmalione’s dream of his ideal love and the transformation scene, in which Galatea, played by the alluring Angela Mortellaro, comes to life. She joins her creator/new lover in a sweet duet, giving us just a brief taste of Ms. Mortellaro’s vocal gifts. The opera ends with the couple in each other’s arms, with no hint of what lies ahead.

Reading that the cast would be joined by supernumeraries and 500 Clown with Adrian Danzig as “Director of Clowning” gave us pause. In 50 years of opera-going, we’d never encountered a Director of Clowning before. Too often stage directors, especially those with only spoken theater experience, clutter up the stage with meaningless antics as if they themselves find opera boring. Naturally, we were wary, but all fears were dispelled by the remarkably clever but never cloying work of the ensemble. We were introduced to the clowns during the intermezzo, with two bumbling “stage hands” trying to clear the Pygmalion set for the next offering with classic slapstick comedy, in keeping with the tradition of Commedia Dell’ Arte as passed down to Charlie Chapman and Laurel & Hardy. Fun, but not overdone.

The opening of “Rita”, set on the Amalfi coast, was close to breathtaking – the colors, the light, the sea and the attractive hotel-café make it seem the best place ever for your next vacation. Rita (Ms. Mortellano) owns the establishment, and her second husband Beppe (Mr. Abreu) does all the work. You might think he would have to have ten hands and feet to get it all done. The comic flair and physicality displayed by Mr. Abreu was an unexpected treat after his serious and sincere portrayal of the troubled Pygmalion. He is a brave performer.

Ms. Mortellano pulled off the tricky task of making Donizetti’s strong headed female lead, (like Norina and Adina), seem self-assured without becoming a virago. Her plush lyric soprano was at times glorious, but at times lost focus, usually at times of excessive physicality. Bill noted that the best vocalism of the night was when the artists were allowed to stand still and sing. Conductors sometimes needs to rein in the stage directors so that the cavorting doesn’t interfere with the singing.

A guest arrives at the hotel and is discovered to be Gasparo, Rita’s first husband, presumed to have died in a shipwreck. Baritone Keith Phares as Gasparo has a fine robust voice, clear and even from top to bottom, and brings off the swagger and arrogance of a bullying husband in a believable but not too disturbing way. There is no getting around the domestic violence in the piece, but it is handled with care and humor, so that it is not dismissed, but not distressing either. Lessons are learned, and just desserts are served.

In an amusing twist on the usual baritone vs. tenor rivalry for the soprano, the two men actually vie to get away from Rita. In an utterly enchanting scene, Beppe rejoices in his new-found freedom when he wins the right to leave Rita to her first husband.

Written in the opera comique style with spoken dialogue between the musical numbers, as in “The Daughter of the Regiment”, this production took advantage of the opportunity to engage the audience, adding contemporary references and jokes. Brava to Ms. Hutchinson for making the most of the wit and comedy without having to resort to vulgarity or triteness. Credit also must go to Ms. Hutchinson and Mr. Danzig for their collaboration; the clowning was perfect - hilarious and always part of the scene.

The set, ingeniously designed by William Boles and handsomely lit by Ted Nazarowski, the orchestra under the sensitive and capable direction of Francesco Milioto played well. Margaret noted the especially the lovely oboe solos of Grace Hong. Congratulations are due to Mssrs. Boles, Nazarowski and Boesch for the stunning visuals. They provided a refreshing antidote to the dreary Chicago weather outside. Shanna Foster’s creative and appealing costumes were enhanced by the make-up and wig design by Becky Scott.

We left the theater with a feeling of joy. Lovers of Bel Canto opera should relish this opportunity to hear two of Donizetti’s lesser known operas in this marvelous production. More casual opera goers wanting to elevate date night will find it thoroughly entertaining. Two performances remain, Friday April 20th at 7:30 p.m., and Sunday afternoon April 22 at 3:00 p.m. at the Studebaker Theater, 410 South Michigan Avenue, Chicago, IL 60605. For tickets go to chicagotheater.org or call 312 704-8414.

By the OperaSwains (Bill and Margaret Swain)

It’s the beginning of a puppet-laden season in theatre this fall. Victory Gardens will be performing Hand to God, the story of a boy whose hand puppet is possessed by the devil, and later in the season, Writers Theatre will produce The Hunter and the Bear, their latest collaboration with Pigpen Theatre Company, which is expected to include the use of shadow puppets as storytelling devices. But first, The House Theatre of Chicago is now presenting their newest original work, A Comedical Tragedy for Mister Punch, a show which explores a fictionalized origin for England’s popular family annihilating marionette, and the minds of the people who came up with him. Featuring the best products of The House’s beloved design team, Mister Punch is a technical marvel, though the script by Kara Davidson is slow to start.

The earliest record of Punch and Judy shows comes from the seventeenth century, and the show is set slightly after that. Punch’s illegal immigrant Italian creator, Pietro Bologna (Adrian Danzig), ekes out an existence while dodging the authorities, as does the thief and street urchin, Charlotte (Sarah Cartwright). Fate brings them together, and Pietro decides he could use her as a bottler, the assistant who introduces shows and collects money. Disguised as a boy named Charlie, Charlotte is initially awful, but the puppets capture her imagination. They have inner life, Pietro tells her, though he guards his creations jealously, and insists that mass murder is the only acceptable ending for Mr. Punch’s stories. When Charlotte learns that Pietro visits a prostitute, Polly (Echaka Agba), whom he regards more as a mistress, she hopes that a softer side of her master might manifest through the puppets if she could only capture some of that affection in the play. But circumstances, and Pietro’s true disposition, are not so kind.

Lee Keenan’s scenic design is similar to the circus theme used in The House’s recently remounted Death and Harry Houdini, only this time, commedia dell’arte masks and puppet pieces dangle from the rafters. John Fournier’s original music contains several unnerving melodies, though naturally, few can compare with the props designed by Eleanor Kahn or with the puppets themselves, created by Jesse Mooney-Bullock. The leering grins of Punch, the crocodile, and the other denizens of his world look even more grotesque in the masks worn by the live actors (costumes by Izumi Inaba). Punch, played by Johnny Arena, appears in the flesh during scenes in which his puppeteers are acting him out, as do Judy (Carolyn Hoerdemann), his much-abused acquaintance, Joey (Joey Steakley), and his other victims. Though The House prides itself on innovative storytelling, few scenes in the show could be more highly theatricalized than these.

Or, at least, that will probably be the case after a few more runs. Though puppetry is often clumsy, more than was optimal seemed to be going wrong at opening, which distorted the pace of the comedy and caused some hesitancy among the actors during fight scenes. This has happened at other House shows, which were able to recover gracefully, but his time, the script was unfocused in the first act to the point where the performers didn’t have much to return to. In the second act, Davidson found her thread, and director Shade Murray was able to put together a story that was as alarming as it was open-ended. But in the first act, precious time was lost to self-indulgent interludes such as the main antagonist doing an impression of House artistic director Nathan Allen.

As annoying as some of the missed opportunities were, what happens in the second act more than redeems the show. We see Danzig’s Pietro as he truly is—not nearly as monstrous as his creation, but enough like him to confuse and disquiet the girl who can’t help seeing him as a friend. Cartwright’s performance takes over near the end, as with increasing desperation she attempts to turn the world of “cathartic violence” Pietro has devised into something kinder and more hopeful. Ironically, the scene which the opening night audience reacted the most viscerally to was one of the few instances of Pietro doing something truly altruistic, due to its graphic nature. The House strongly advises that this show is for teens, at the youngest. But for people able to enjoy and critique the Punch and Judy aesthetic, this show comes recommended.

A Comedical Tragedy for Mister Punch is being performed at the Chopin Theatre through October 23. Tickets are $30-35; for more information, visit TheHouseTheatre.com. Running time is two hours and fifteen minutes with one intermission.