Displaying items by tag: Chicago Opera Theater

There could not have been a better site than Chicago’s Epiphany Center for a one-night performance of a truly moving work—”Soldier Songs,” a one-hour cantata with libretto and score composed by David T. Little.

This sweeping reverie on the internal life of a soldier, from boyhood through mature adulthood, expresses the inexpressible feelings a man experiences in a life under arms, and as a veteran after.

"Soldier Songs” left me deeply affected, moved to uncertainty, with feelings I struggle to express. It follows the arc of one male soldier’s experience of the military, starting from a childhood infused with hero worship of idealized soldiers as superheroes.

Those feelings are still at play as the boy, now a teenager, enlists for a period to end at age 26. It is during this time that this soldier encounters the reality of deadly battle, and his own role, in the fields of war. And finally, the Soldier, now an adult, watches his own son travel the same path, dying unfortunately in mortal combat.

Its opening minutes incorporate voice recordings of veterans of five different wars, punctuated by low-key musical accents. As the recruit ultimately encounters live battle, the music is more tempestuous. More bits of those voice recordings interject throughout. And over this, the powerfully expressive baritone David Adam Moore relates Little’s songs bringing his entire body to action, enacting emotively the lyrics of each phase of this Soldier’s life.

Laid out in three stages—Child, Warrior, Elder—Soldier Songs leaves us with Soldier experiencing the insufferable loss of his own son in battle. The poignance of Moore’s interpretation of Soldier’s anger and loss is among the most outstanding expressions I have heard of male vulnerability and emotional loss.

Backed by a chamber orchestra directed by Lidiya Yankovskaya, with sound design by Garth MacAleavey, the company includes Jeff Yang on violin, Matthew Agnew on cello, Gene Collerd on Clarinet and percussion, Jennie Oh Brown on flute/piccolo/percussion, and Jonathan Gmeinder on piano and synthesizer.

The libretto itself is based on the words of veterans. Supertitles guide the audience as the sections of the work unfold, letting us know. During the child's youthful imaginings, for example, “Boom! Bang! Dead!” the Soldier sings “If I get shot, I’ll just start over,” revealing his naivete as he launches into horrendously violent speech, knowing neither the meaning nor implications of his fantasy of fighting.

As a teen enlistee, Moore sings, “I signed a paper yesterday that until I’m 26 I belong to the government,” and Moore registers a shift in the Soldier’s character, an inkling something has changed. Part 2, begins with Warrior: Still Life with Tank and iPod,” and we learn he listens to heavy metal music to maintain his rage in battle. The underlying music is also infused with overtones of the genre. He sees “old friends, high school friends, marching in fatigues, death machines on their shoulders.”

The experience and resulting trauma of live battle follow, soldiers evaporate under fire, visible only as “blood dripping from the leaves,” as once voice over has it. “A ghastly scene without the action hero,” Moore sings. “Someone yell ‘Cut!’” But of course, no one does. This is the real thing.

Little says he was driven to this work with the realization that his entire generation has never known a time when the U.S. is not at war. And yet, “Soldier Song” is not an anti-war screed, but simply an honest expression of the toll of war on an individual Soldier.

And the setting at Epiphany Center for the Arts was so perfect. This monumental 1885 Episcopal edifice was converted into a $15 million, 42,000 square foot center for the arts in a $15 million project begun in 2017. The main sanctuary, with pipe organ and interior walls intact, has a benign patina of aging paint and religious iconography. Only as I left the venue did I look at the back wall opposite the performance stage, to see the giant words still legible in the peeling paint: “And on Earth, let there be peace.”

One can only imagine the angst for Chicago Opera Theatre’s producers when just over a week prior to the performance soloist Nathan Gunn had to withdraw from the performance for a family emergency. But by the grace of the opera gods, and a one-day waiver from New York’s Metropolitan Opera, baritone David Adam Moore flew to Chicago and saved the show. (Moore is currently working at the Metropolitan Opera for the house premiere production of Jake Heggie's “Dead Man Walking.” In watching Moore’s performance, I was struck by how completely he gave himself up to the role, and wondered how he could be so good on such short notice. Only later did I learn that he has performed this work before, including a definitive recording. 

Chicago Opera Theater moves on to the Harris Theater for the Chicago premiere of Shostakovich's "The Nose" on December 8 and 10, 2023. takes the stage in December at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance. In January 2024, at the Studebaker Theater it will present Huang Ruo’s "Book of Mountains and Seas" in collaboration with the Chicago International Puppet Theater Festival and Beth Morrison Projects. In April, again at the Epiphany Center for the Arts, it presents Vanguard composer Gillian Rae Perry and librettist Marcus Amaker's "The Weight of Light," then back to the Studebaker Theater in May to conclude its season with the world premiere tour presentation of Jake Heggie and Gene Scheer's "Before It All Goes Dark," based on a story by Chicago music and arts journalist Howard Reich, commissioned and presented by Music of Remembrance. 

Chicago Opera Theater presented the new opera, Moby Dick, by Jake Heggie and Gene Scheer, in a brave, intelligent, and strikingly beautiful performance last Thursday at the Harris Theater in Chicago. Usually, the old adage that “the whole is greater than the sum of the parts” seems well suited to most COT productions, but what can one say about a production in which all of the parts were truly excellent, yet the work itself did not quite live up to its disparate elements? Moby Dick is a well-crafted, entertaining and enjoyable opera, performed with a wealth of talent in an impeccable production, yet it never delivered the impact which could be expected from such an epic work of literature. Perhaps it is like Shakespeare’s “King Lear” in that respect, a work which is so epic, and which has a central character which is so complex that it defies transliteration. Even Verdi wouldn’t touch it. There are a few epic operas which have complex characters, Verdi’s Don Carlo and Samuel Barber’s Anthony and Cleopatra come immediately to mind, but there are many epic operas whose characters are not that complex, and there are many complex characters in operas which are not particularly epic in scope. It is really, really hard to do both.

Jake Heggie is an immensely popular, talented and accomplished composer. His canon of nearly 300 art songs has become a staple of the vocal repertoire, and his operas, such as Dead Man Walking, have achieved worldwide acclaim. However, with Moby Dick, while Heggie has mastered the musical language of opera, it seems as though he has not quite found his full operatic voice. Every scene is beautifully written, well suited to the human voice, gorgeously orchestrated and theatrically complete, much like an art song. However, they are more like individually luminescent pearls, rather than one magnificently encircling necklace. Heggie’s music is through-composed, yet the scenes feel as though the next one is of a different style, almost as though it was from a separate work, than the scene before. There is a jumble of styles which are reminiscent of Vaughan Willams, Britten, Stravinsky, Rutter and even the film score of “Lawrence of Arabia”, among a number of others. The result is that moments of tension are lost in transition between scenes, and the work as a whole never achieves the overall dramatic arch leading to the penultimate scene’s destruction of Ahab and his ship. This may be because it is never made clear what the opera is really about, or how any of the several relationships which are explored effect the others in driving the dramatic action to its tragic end. Is it about Starbuck’s struggle with morality and opposition to Godless authority? Is it about the friendship between Ishmael (here called Greenhorn) and Queequeg which bridges racial and religious chasms? Or is it really about Ahab’s self-absorbed and tragically maniacal obsession with exacting his revenge upon the great white whale? Whatever it is about, the audience should have walked out feeling as though they had just been kicked in the gut, not as if they had just seen a Broadway musical. It all seemed rather sanitized and prepackaged to please, rather than move or challenge the audience.

The tragic character in Moby Dick is without question Captain Ahab, with his unreasoning and implacable hatred of the “fish” which took his leg. Ahab’s manic-depressively single-minded focus upon finding the whale is the force which provides the dramatic tension in both the novel and the opera. Although he gave a splendidly well sung performance, Tenor Richard Cox seemed much too well adjusted and reasonable, portraying only a hint at the driving compulsion which takes Ahab and all the men of the Pequod to their watery graves. His aria, “I leave a white and turbid wake” eloquently explained his morbid fascination, but did not express its inherent dread.

Providing the foil to Ahab’s insane fixation, Aleksey Bogdanov as Starbuck was spectacular. Possessed of a booming, velvety smooth bass-baritone voice which easily soared through heavy orchestration, Bogdanov’s performance was powerful, committed, and nuanced. Bogdanov has the kind of voice usually associated with villains, such as Scarpia or Iago, yet his Starbuck was approachable and sympathetically touching.

As Greenhorn (Ishmael), the sweet-voiced tenor Andrew Bidlack was ideal. His thoughtful portrayal progressed from the naïve and unexperienced youth in search of knowledge of the world to the emotionally savaged sole survivor of the voyage with honest sincerity. Wallace’s Greenhorn was the mate every sailor wishes to have as his fellow oarsman.

Bass baritone Vince Wallace as Queequeg was exuberantly vigorous and entertaining, while never allowing the character to become a parody or stereotype. His straightforward humanity provided the structure for Queequeg and Greenhorn to bridge their cultural and religious divide and forge a deep friendship. However, Queequeg’s mysticism which foresees his death and the tragic confrontation with Moby Dick, is rather strangely portrayed as a heart attack, not as the ennui resulting in a spiritually broken heart. Perhaps the composer or director didn’t feel that having Queequeg simply waste away from a broken heart would be obvious enough to hold the audience’s interest.

A curtain speech announced that role of Stubb would be sung by cover Nick Ward. This is usually an ominous sign that the audience should be prepared for a somewhat under-rehearsed and tenuous performance. Not so, in the case of Mr. Ward. He sang impressively, and danced and cavorted around the stage with assurance and gusto, providing a great deal of comic relief with his sidekick Aaron Short as Flask. The physicality of the two was amusing and impressive.

The music for Pip requires the powerful adult voice of a pants role, and as the cabin boy, Summer Hassan sang with a luminous voice, soaring above the combined forces of the all-male chorus and orchestra. Equally impressive were the other male soloists and chorus. Each one was an outstanding singer and actor. They were supported by four male dancers who provided vigorous physicality to many scenes. Chicago Opera Theater does not have a full time professional chorus like the Lyric Opera of Chicago, so to be able to bring together an ensemble of such high quality speaks volumes concerning the commitment of the company to the highest performance standards. Kudos go to Chicago Opera Theater for its casting choices.

Those high standards are also demonstrated by the striking, and extremely functional set by Erhard Rom (whose remarkable whale’s eye at the end was a stroke of genius), the effective, yet atmospheric lighting by David Martin Jaques, and the clean and imaginative stage direction by Kristine McIntyre. McIntyre is a director who truly understands the unique needs of opera and opera singers, never pandering to the audience with unnecessary stage business or requiring the actors to go beyond the limits of good singing. Everything that happened on stage was both interesting and important. However a curious statement in the director’s note in the program may explain the seeming ambivalence of the opera. Ms. McIntyre states, “At its core, Moby Dick is a story about friendship.” While it is certainly true that the friendship is an important part of the story, and we want to find some form of redemption and growth of the human spirit in the story, it is not the driving force which impels the drama or precipitates the tragic end.

Moby Dick was masterfully conducted by Lidiya Yankovskaya. Under her baton the 60 piece orchestra played beautifully with a sumptuous sound. The one quibble is that with such dense orchestration at the beginning of the piece, the really loud playing might have been restrained so that the climax could have been more effective. By the end, the loud bits had become a bit tiresome. However, that is by no means entirely the conductor’s fault. The positive influence of Ms. Yankovskaya’s direction continues to impress in a business which is highly competitive for better orchestra players. Again the commitment to excellence from COT is to be commended.

Good news! The future of American opera is looking very bright, indeed! The beautiful and moving new opera, The Scarlet Ibis, was presented last Saturday and Thursday by Chicago Opera Theater as part of their Vanguard Initiative, a program to mentor emerging opera composers, commission and develop new operas, and connect audiences to exciting new works and creators.

The opera, with music composed by Stefan Weisman and libretto by David Cote, is based on the short story of the same name by James Hurst. If this touching, extraordinary production is indicative of what we can expect in the future from COT’s Vanguard Initiative, this is a great day for opera!

Lyrical and atmospheric, the music draws upon the best of 20th century American opera, not in a derivative way, but as you might say that Verdi’s style organically grew out of the Bel Canto tradition of Donizetti and Bellini, which depended upon compositional elements of Mozart and Gluck, which were spawned by Handel, Vivaldi, and Lully. The greatness of these composers was entirely dependent upon those who came before, and established a knowledge base of how to compose for the human voice. Much of the difficulty that many audiences have had with modern American opera, especially mid to late 20th Century opera, is that the compositional styles of those composers were created out of whole cloth, with no prior vocal tradition which allowed their music to be sing-able. The Scarlet Ibis, however, shows a burgeoning maturity in the compositional style and technique of modern opera. Although scored for a small ensemble, the open harmonies and folk-like strains of Weisman’s music are reminiscent of Copeland. Arpeggios and repeated patterns (don’t call it “minimalism”) hint at influence from composers such as Philip Glass and John Adams, although this work is mostly melodically sweet and flowing, without those driving rhythms associated with works by Adams or Glass. And when called for theatrically, the music becomes nearly Stravinskian, with more complex harmonies and lush texture. However, Mr. Weisman has found a voice of his own, guided by the demands of the drama, and the abilities and needs of the human voice. The vocal writing seemed tailor made for the remarkable cast, and lines that were eminently sing-able carried the listener along for an enthralling ride.

As in Copeland’s The Tender Land, the libretto is artfully crafted to capture the colloquial time and place of the story with succinct economy of language. Nevertheless the narrative is clear, with defining voices for each individual character. Every scene is simple, but imbued with a deep sense of poetry and humanity.

David Hanlon conducted with sensitivity and expertise, bringing out the loveliness and power of the score. Under his capable direction, the nine piece orchestra played superbly, without some of the pitch problems in the strings which have been disappointing in earlier productions. Hanlon was always there for the singers, fluently in control as if The Scarlet Ibis was an opera he’d known and loved for years.

Stage and Movement Director Elizabeth Margolius is the kind of opera director who seems to be more and more rare, these days. She is a director who completely trusts her singers and her material to be inherently interesting on their own, without the need to add a lot of meaningless stage business and movement because she is afraid that the audience will become bored. She understands that a singer does not have to be in constant motion, and that a good singer can remain perfectly still, that time can slow down and stretch, yet there will still be intense focus and attention from the audience. This is especially useful when the leading character can’t walk. Doodle’s “Lie” aria, in which he sat nearly perfectly still, was a stellar example. On the extremely simple, but versatile and attractive unit set, Ms. Margolius used the space with great imagination and skill. Nothing ever happened which didn’t make sense. Every movement, every sound, was expertly motivated and realistic.

Set in the home of the Armstrong family in the north-eastern Piedmont region of North Carolina, just after the Wright brothers had made human flight successful at nearby Kitty Hawk, the imagery of the possibilities of the flight of the human soul pervades The Scarlet Ibis. It is comprised of 13 brief titled scenes in one act, and runs just over an hour and a half, although it seemed to take only half that time. Each scene featured an event in the lives of the small rural family over the course of about six or seven years. The opera opens in a fairly straightforward manner. Six year old Brother, the family’s only child, is joyfully anticipating the birth of the family’s second child, who he hopes can be a companion with whom he can run, and jump, and fight, and play. The focus then shifts to his mother. In a scene unique in opera, in our experience, she is having a difficult childbirth. It is quickly apparent that if the baby survives, something will be terribly wrong. It is a boy, but he is a “caul” baby, a child who is born with part of the amniotic sack covering its head like a cowl. Many mystical qualities are attributed to caul babies and to cauls, themselves. Caul babies are reputed to have abilities such as second sight, great creativity, and unfettered imaginations. Cauls themselves, are prized by sailors to prevent drowning, by lawyers to help them win cases, and are thought by some Adriatic cultures to aid in the peaceful passing of the dying. Most disappointing to Brother, the baby also has a severe, but unspecified disability which leaves him incapable of walking and being the playmate that Brother wanted. In a fit of pique, Brother gives the baby the nickname, Doodle, because the only thing a doodlebug can do is push itself around backwards. However, Doodle is special in other ways, teaching himself to read by the age of four, with a flawless and prodigious memory, and an unparalleled imagination.

Jordan Rutter, as Doodle, was a revelation – a term we do not use lightly. He radiated pure innocence with an underlying poetic soul. His countertenor voice, soaring above all the others as the highest vocal part in the opera, is unusually pretty for the type. Mr. Rutter’s singing was moving and affecting throughout, especially in the ensembles and the duets with Brother. Equally remarkable, are Mr. Rutter’s acting skills. As an adult playing the role of a very young child to the age of about seven, he has a directness, simplicity, and economy of movement which are riveting in their expressivity.

Likewise, mezzo-Soprano Annie Rosen was thrilling in the “overalls” role of Brother, playing a boy who ages from about six to thirteen throughout the opera, with a total commitment to her character. She has a gorgeous, clear voice with an extraordinary color palette. She sang with talent, intelligence, and sensitivity, going from boyishly silly or mocking tones to a full, rich sound in moments of deep expressivity. Ms. Rosen is not a large woman, yet she exhibited an impressive physicality and strength as she lifted and carried the adult male actor playing Doodle around in the kind of stage action not usually expected from a female singer. Her future in opera should be brilliant. Both Ms. Rosen and Mr. Rutter made us completely forget that they are adults playing the roles of very young boys.

We have been continuously delighted and impressed with the talent of baritone Bill McMurray. His sturdy baritone is capable of a range of color that bordered on fearsome as Ibn-Hakia in Iolanta earlier this season, but was warm and paternal in this role. He portrayed the role of Father with pathos, dignity, and an uncanny honesty. Every time Father is faced with a crisis, either of sadness or joy, he goes to his shop to build something by hand for Doodle. He is a proud and loving man with little education and few resources, but he has knowledge and talent with wood, so he does the best he can with what little he has. He is not fluent or articulate with words, so he expresses himself through his craft. Each time Mr. McMurray went to his shop, it brought tears to our eyes, either from sadness or gladness. His “Coffin” aria was heart wrenching in the direct simplicity of a father’s pain. Later, when Doodle’s physical disability threatens to also stunt the growth of his mind by confining him to his home, Father expresses his frustration at not being able to afford a bicycle for his son by building him a red wagon in which to explore the world. In his “Red Wagon” aria, McMurray perfectly captures a simple working man’s determination to make his son’s life better than his own.

COT Young Artist alumni Quinn Middleman brought tenderness and a gentle presence to the role of Mother. Her fine, warm mezzo-soprano voice easily met the challenge of vocal demands which included musically notated high notes for sung screams and groans during the first scene’s difficult childbirth. Ms. Middleman musically gave us all of a woman’s pain, fear, agony, joy, and strength while in the throes of one of life’s essential moments. It is common for singers to die on stage, but we have never heard one give birth. However, when Mother discovers a newspaper article about a doctor in Chicago who might offer the possibility of a cure for her son’s disability, Ms. Middleman touchingly exchanged excitement and optimism for the pathos of the forlorn hope of an unattainable goal.

Contralto Sharmay Musacchio sang the role of Auntie. She seemed hesitant at times, as if she needed a little more time with the role to get it into her voice and find the truth in the character. Her performance, while not quite up to the high standard of her colleagues on stage, was more than adequate and did not detract. It’s just that the rest of the singers were so darn perfect in their roles.

It should be noted that music written for three female voices of the same general type and range could have been muddy and undistinguished. However, Mr. Weisman’s excellent vocal part writing, abetted by perfect vocal casting choices on the part of COT, was always marvelously clear and distinct, allowing each of the voices to shine with characterization.

The singers were joined by dancer Ginny Ngo, who portrayed the Bird, the title role, if you will, physicalizing the opera’s overarching and multifaceted theme of flight. Ms. Ngo appeared variously as a doppelgänger for Doodle, a rather spooky owl, as the actual scarlet ibis, and as Doodle’s soul free from the confines of his deformed earthly body. Whether representing the flight of imagination, the flight of the human spirit, or the flight of the human soul, Ms. Ngo’s movement was birdlike, but brimming with human emotion. In the disquieting penultimate scene, the ibis finally appears, storm blown far from where it should be and out of place in an inhospitable environment, like the not-normal little boy.

Scenic Designer Jack Magaw provided the creative and workable set. Charlie Cooper’s breathtaking lighting design was at once clean and atmospheric, while actually being illuminating. Even in scenes which were dark, emotions on the singers’ faces could still be seen clearly. The costumes designed by Brenda Winstead were appropriately plain, yet never uninteresting. An especially nice and amusing touch was Doodle’s goofy pilot’s helmet subtly reinforcing the flight symbolism. How gratifying to see all elements of a production come together in service to the whole of the work. We laughed, cried, hoped, celebrated and mourned with the Armstrong family.

Only one performance remains, Sunday, February 24 at 3:00 p.m. at The Studebaker Theater in the Fine Arts Building. If this review gets posted (without typos) and you are reading this before then, change whatever plans you may have and go see this marvelous production. Let’s hope it will be presented soon and often by other companies. It is a worthy addition to the American Opera repertoire.

Go to www.chicagooperatheater.org or call (312)704-8414.

Chicago Opera Theater opened their 2018-2019 season with the Chicago Premier of Peter Tchaikovsky’s ‘Iolanta’. Since this performance was also the Chicago debut of Lidiya Yankovskaya, COT’s new Stanley Music Director, it was an auspicious occasion for the company embarking on their 45th season. It also marked the first full season of Chicago Opera Theater’s Vanguard Initiative, committed to bringing newer and lesser known works to Chicago on the stage of the charming Studebaker Theater in the Fine Arts Building. In collaboration with Roosevelt University, COT has a respected young artist program, giving opportunities to promising singing actors. For Chicago audiences, it is a welcome complement to the much grander Lyric Opera of Chicago.

When one thinks of Tchaikovsky’s operas, and Russian opera in general, epic stories, casts of hundreds and massive choruses come to mind. Not so in Tchaikovsky’s final opera, ‘Iolanta’. As with last season’s offering, Donizetti’s final opera, Rita, (is this a theme?) ‘Iolanta’ is a more intimate work, and runs about an hour and a half. Nevertheless, it has the romantic sweep of Tchaikovsky’s style that tugs at the heart strings while rousing large as life passions, presaging the later works of Stravinsky and Rachmaninov.

A 2018 recipient of the Solti Foundation Career Assistance Award, Maestra Yankovskaya’s debut in the pit was promising and gratifying. She brought out all the pathos and grandness in the lush score, without ever overpowering the singers, quite an accomplishment in an intimate theater with such an exposed orchestra pit. This is most encouraging. If she can just get her strings to play in tune, under her leadership it will be an outstanding ensemble. We were fortunate for the heavenly harp played by Lillian Lau, a measure of a truly professional opera company.

The story of ‘Iolanta’ could be a simple fairy tale; Princess ‘Iolanta’ has been blind from birth. Her father, the loving and powerful King René, has kept this a secret from her, and instructed, upon pain of death, that the fact that she is blind never be revealed to her. Since childhood, ‘Iolanta’ has been betrothed to Robert, the Duke of Burgundy, but Robert has since fallen in love with another. Because the marriage of Robert and ‘Iolanta’ is pending, King René has engaged the services of an exotic doctor, Ibn Hakla, to try to cure his sightless daughter. Dr. Ibn Hakla, who employs the metaphysical and the psychological in his treatments, proclaims that ‘Iolanta’ will never be able to see unless she knows that she is blind. Honoring his betrothal, Robert comes to claim his bride, but his friend, Vaudemont, gets a glimpse of ‘Iolanta’ and is instantly enchanted. Vaudemont sneaks past a No Trespassing On Pain of Death sign to try to meet ‘Iolanta’. As they engage in a mild flirtation, Vaudemont professes his love. As a remembrance, he asks her to give him a red rose from the bouquet of red and white rose which ‘Iolanta’ carries. When ‘Iolanta’ is not able to pick out a red rose, Vaudemont discovers that ‘Iolanta’ cannot see and reveals it to her. Predictably, the two are discovered together, and Vaudemont is condemned to death. ‘Iolanta’’s love for Vaudemont makes her choose to allow Dr. Ibn Hakla to operate. The operation is successful, Vaudemont is pardoned, and all live happily ever after. Aside from the obvious, “you can’t solve a problem until you acknowledge it” the myriad possible interpretations make this opera a fascinating study in how we deal with all that comes along with being human.

The cast is stellar without exception. Katherine Weber, assuming the title role, is a singer to watch very closely. She is much more than just another cookie-cutter soprano, her large, distinctive voice is sweet and sturdy, with a wide spectrum of color, and burgeoning with tremendous promise. Her characterization was sympathetic and touching.

Mikhail Svetlov as King René is a spectacular true Russian bass. He tempered the role of René with understanding and presence. It is hard to imagine anyone singing the role any more beautifully than Svetlov. He had the regal bearing of a king and the tenderness of a father suffering for his daughter’s plight. His performance, alone, would make this production a must-see.

As Vaudemont, John Irvin has a slightly stiff stage presence, but he sang with vocal ease and treated us to some of the best high notes we’ve heard anywhere this season. In his aria, which was not part of the original score, he seemed a little uncomfortable, but once that was out of the way, he has a natural charm which made his performance entirely compelling and believable.

Operas with two major Baritone roles are quite unusual. Christopher Magiera, as a deliciously randy Robert, Duke of Burgundy, tossed off his devilishly difficult aria with aplomb. Magiera has the natural stage presence and effortless high notes demanded by the most difficult Bel Canto baritone roles. Bill McMurray, as Dr. Ibn Hakla, delivered a slightly more dramatic sound which suited the mystically transcendental requirements of that role. His aria was vocally spectacular, even if the staging was somewhat obtuse.

Important smaller roles were well sung and capably acted by Emma Ritter, Katherine Peterson, Annie Rosen, David Goversten and Aaron Short. It is gratifying to see that young singers of this quality are receiving professional mentoring in Chicago which is all-important to launching successful careers.

The sets designed by Alan E. Murakova were intriguing, and as lit by Lighting & Projection designer Driscoll Otto, occasionally quite stunning, but served little useful dramatic purpose. And they moved around all night. Not just between scenes, but during scenes too, being pushed around by the singers to no real purpose, achieving nothing. At times it seemed as though the opera was more about set pieces dancing around, than anything else. Oh please, it’s an opera, not a ballet for flats. In spite of that, when the set pieces were allowed to stay still and accept Mr. Otto’s visuals, they did ignite the imagination. However, that wonder was unfortunately squashed by the dull and dreary costumes, which looked like recycled costumes from last year’s The Consul. You can design a production cheaply that doesn’t look cheap. And rather than tease us with an interesting setting, then keep moving it around, why not just focus on good stage craft? Famed director Paul Curran let us be distracted from an otherwise honest and meaningful reading with all this unnecessary shuffling around of castered corner pieces. And although Curran did tell the story well, he did not help his young cast with the elementary stage movement. Too often, to use a nautical phrase, singers were caught in irons, with nowhere to go, or having to make an awkward La Scala cross from down-stage left to up-stage right while singing. A director of Curran’s reputation should know how to do better for his actors.

Despite the technical distractions, ‘Iolanta’ is delightful, beautifully sung and movingly performed by a supremely talented cast of young singers.
The Doctor’s orders: See ‘Iolanta’!

There are two additional performances – Thursday evening November 15 at 7:30 pm and Sunday afternoon November 18 at 3 pm. Don’t miss it! Go to chicagooperatheater.org.

In so many aspects of life, two is better than one. The Studebaker Theater knows all about this principle and brought together two operas in the space of one evening: il Pigmalione + Rita.

A double bill of Italian composter Domenico Gaetano Maria Donizetti’s first work and one of his last, the two works have been theatrically combined to flow seamlessly together and highlight the progression of Donizetti’s musical artistry and his thoughts on themes of love and romance throughout his compositional career. il Pigmalione is about a devoted artist Pigmalione, shuttered in his studio, toils away in his studio to create his vision of ideal beauty: Galatea. Smitten with his own work, his prayers for true love are answered when she’s brought to life.

The scene then transitions, characters age and develop, and Galatea becomes Rita, a self-reliant café owner on the Italian coast. Pigmalione is revealed to be the sensitive artistic side of Beppe, Rita’s overworked and foolish husband.  In the second comedic opera, a love triangle plunges Rita and Beppe into chaos when her first husband, Gasparo, presumed dead for years, returns. In Gasparo’s return, Beppe sees an opportunity to escape his exhausting situation, and so the two men face off to determine who must stay and who gets to leave.  Meanwhile Rita ponders if she needs either man in her life.

The operas themselves had easy to follow storylines, were short, and in the case of Rita, was lively and humorous. Between operas, the stagehands performed slapstick comedy to entertain the audience and transition the audience, as well as the stage, into the Italian coast featuring Rita’s café. Audience members were pulled into Donizetti’s world even as it surpassed decades. I myself had never seen, nor heard, of the operas, but was pleasantly surprised by the lightness of the operas and the overall experience.

Unlike the Lyric Opera, there was an ease about the performance and an effortlessness in the performances of the singers. They were powerful but not pompous and seemed to genuinely enjoy what they were doing. The Studebaker Theater itself, an inconspicuous theater located in the Fine Arts Building on Michigan Avenue, also lent the feeling of ease. It’s comfortable and intimate space, seating at most 500 people, packed a full orchestra and allowed for the entire audience to see, hear, and experience the opera in a way the grandeur of the Lyric Opera cannot.

For those eager to experience the opera for the first time, or seasoned opera goers, il Pigmalione + Rita is a must see. Though Rita might not be able to decide if two husbands is better than one (or none), two Donizetti operas are far better than one and you could still want more.

il Pigmalione + Rita is now playing at The Studebaker Theater (410 S Michigan Ave, Chicago, IL 60605). Tickets can be purchased at https://www.chicagooperatheater.org/box-office/.

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)

The Fairy Queen is a baroque opera written by Henry Purcell in 1692 as an adaptation of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream.  On November 5th, in the newly restored Studebaker Theater, the Chicago Opera Theater produced their reimagined version of the opera in collaboration with Culture Clash. The show is set in present day Las Vegas at a nightclub known as Club FQ or Club Fairy Queen, giving a modern perspective on a very traditional and old fashioned show.

Three couples, in various phases of their relationships, arrive at the club ready to enjoy their weekend in Vegas; Tanya and Rob to celebrate a birthday, Lysander and Herman to celebrate a marriage and Demetrius and Helena to try and rekindle their romance. After Tanya and Ron get in a big argument over Ron’s wandering eyes (and more) their first night in the club, Puck, the club owner, steps in with a special love potion that is sure to solve all of their problems. Of course, nothing from here out goes as planned and chaos ensues.

Now imagine that story set to baroque music by the Haymarket Opera Company - complete with a harpsichord and other period instruments - under the direction of Jory Vinikour. This should be an interesting way to make opera more accessible to a new audience but this strong juxtaposition, combined with overly sexualized characters who are such strong stereotypes it at times feels insulting and pacing that was awkwardly slow, it overall falls short of a production that will do much to attract any new audiences.

The show, like its muse, is a comedy and while there are some comedic moments that hit the right moment and tone, garnering laughs from the theater, there are many more that felt dragged out or had poor timing. The show has a run time of over 2 hours with a 20 minute intermission but the pacing of the performance makes that feel much longer. In a possible tribute to the masque style of the original opera, there tends to be significant time where characters who are not speaking are standing still on the stage, as if waiting for their next move, but that ended up detracting from the momentum of the performance.

The lyrics are captioned for the audience which is helpful, but they are still quite confusing. If you are familiar with the story of Midsummer Night's Dream, it will be easy to follow along despite that. The stage and lighting design were fitting to set the scene of this Vegas club and the costumes completed that package visually. The cast overall was eclectic and it was refreshing to see good diversity on stage. Tanya, played by Kim Jones, was a saving grace of the show. Her singing was beautiful and definitely made her a stand out member of the cast.  As the cast performed without microphones, there were times when it was difficult to hear the dialog but most of them had excellent projection when it was time to sing.

On the whole, this reimagined telling of The Fairy Queen missed the mark. It often felt like it was trying too hard to be hip and relevant which took away from the performance. There was great intent in this creative approach to an adaptation and with some softening of the delivery, and improvements on the pacing it could become a unique and interesting opera. There will be two more performances of the show coming up in the next week so get your tickets here to see for yourself - https://www.chicagooperatheater.org/the-season/fairy-queen. 

A legend in her own right, Frederica von Stade graces the stage with poise and perfection in Chicago Opera Theater's "A Coffin in Egypt". A veteran mezzo-soprano, her performances, recordings and television specials have garnered her six Grammy nominations, a cascade of European awards and recognition, and even an award from President Reagan in 1983 in recognition of her significant contribution to the arts.

The story presented in the opera comes from a tale by revered American dramatist Horton Foote, who's often seen play "The Trip to Bountiful" exemplifies his recurring themes of family, community and the triumph of the human spirit.

Ricky Ian Gordon, award winning composer, crafted this opera specifically to showcase Ms. von Stade's virtuosity. The opera was commissioned by Houston Grand Opera, The Wallis Annenberg Center, and Opera Philadelphia.

Bringing together a wealth of skill and experience, unfortunately this show lacks a riveting climax. Essentially it is a monologue of a dying woman, ruminating on the memories and men that shaped her life. Sprinkled with a few strong songs, the majority of the music is asynchronous and wandering. The music stays mostly at the lower end of Ms von Stade's range, disappointing since her most beautiful moments are in the higher, longer notes where her voice is free and stunning. This is ironic and disappointing considering that this is supposed to be a piece to showcase her talent.

Although her emotions revolve constantly as she fixates on each memory, the lighting is too static and realistic to reflect, enhance or build her moods. The lighting did however enhance the boredom that grew until the curtain fell.

The set was charming however, reflecting the place and the lady's emotional turmoil with a simple and elegant design. Veteran scenic and costume designer Riccardo Hernandez met the challenge of being both scenic and costume designer for this production with success! Mr. Hernandez has also collaborated with the Goodman Theatre here in Chicago as well as in Paris, Norway, and the Moscow Art Theatre.

Chicago Opera Theater presents Ricky Ian Gordon's "A Coffin in Egypt" April 25 through May 3 at the Harris Theater (205 E. Randolph). Tickets are now on sale at chicagooperatheater.org.

Tw@birunjibaby