Margaret and I have had to wait nearly thirty years to enjoy another production of Emerich Kalman’s “Die Csardasfurstin”, often translated as “The Csardas Princess” or “The Gypsy Princess”, and Folks Operetta’s production running at Stage 773 through July 22 was well worth the wait. The Csardas, or Czardas, is a Romani gypsy dance which starts out slowly and builds to a wild, exciting finish. The plot is by no means original – it’s the classic story of the rich young industrialist, Edwin Weylersheim, falling for the low-born and “cheap” cabaret singer, Sylva Varescu, who is socially unacceptable to Edwin’s upper class family. Generally accepted as the finest of Kalman’s compositions and the most popular operetta in European houses, “The Csardas Princess” inexplicably has been overlooked in the United States in favor of the vastly overdone, yet not in the least superior “Fledermaus” and “Merry Widow”. Not to disparage two lovely operettas, but after having seen or performed in dozens of Fledermice and done an equal number of Widows, we have no need to ever see either again. Many thanks to Folks Operetta for bringing this delightful gem to Chicago in an enthusiastic performance.

Written in 1915 at the inception of The Great War, “The Csardas Princess” presages the racial and class distinctions, political upheaval, and economic disaster which would wrack Europe for the next half century. The subtle reference to the strife that was soon to envelope the world gives it an edge completely lacking in other popular operettas. After all, Varescu is a Romani gypsy name and the Csardas is a Magyar song form. This would have been blatantly obvious to a Viennesse audience in 1915, and both ethnic groups soon would become victims of Hitler’s racial cleansing. With a thoroughly competent new translation by Artistic Director Gerald Frantzen, some of the original period references were diminished, but were replaced by subtle references to our current social and political state of affairs which made “The Csardas Princess” unusually relevant to the 21st Century audience.

“Csardas Princess” was charmingly and crisply staged by Gerald Frantzen, in a way that made complete sense of a typically convoluted plot. The only rather odd staging devices were an opening unaccompanied “prequel” featuring the three principal characters as children. Although well performed by the silvery voiced Clara Frantzen as Sylva, Kaden Krumrei as Edwin, and Emily Churchouse as Edwin’s cousin Stasi, the implication that Edwin and Sylva knew each other from childhood blurred racial and class distinctions, diminishing the essential dramatic conflict later on.  The other device introduced Sylva Varescu, the Csardas Princess and star of the Orpheum Theater in Budapest, along with her supporting glamorous chorus girls, as mere working girls in a factory. That would work, if one was intentionally trying to make a socialist statement about downtrodden workers vs. aristocratic factory owners. In that case there needs to be some kind of conflict between the workers and management. There wasn’t. Instead, there was a chorus of very attractive women dressed in shapeless industrial smocks making the scene seem like a rather staid and Puritanical cross between the urchins from “Annie” and the cigarette girls from “Carmen”.  Most importantly, it prevented the audience from understanding the star power of the glamorous diva Sylva and the source of Edwin’s extreme infatuation with her. Once the smocks came off however, they revealed pleasingly attractive and flattering period costumes by Patti Roeder.

The Thrust space in Stage 773 is by no means an ideal venue for a fully staged opera with orchestra, but Folks Operetta dealt with the limitations with aplomb. Stage 773 is essentially a black box space with no orchestra pit to provide balance between orchestra and singers, and without blocking sight lines for the audience. Folks Operetta solved the problem by positioning the orchestra upstage of the scenery with a video monitor in the house for the singers to see Conductor Mark A. Taylor. This was a daring and risky decision, but Mr. Taylor is an extremely talented and stylistically sensitive conductor who never once allowed the excellent 19 piece orchestra to overwhelm the singers, while maintaining an exquisitely tight ensemble without any direct contact with the stage. We don’t know if credit is due to Mr. Taylor for the impeccable diction of every single singer, but they understood that good diction is a product of good vowel production and not the over-pronunciation of consonants. Not a single word was missed. Kudos to Folks Operetta, as well, for allowing us the luxury of Harp player Lillian Reasnor. The “harp” stop on a synthesizer could never have replaced her.

Katherine Petersen provided a lovely presence and well produced lyric soprano to the role of Sylva Varescu, usually sung by a fuller spinto soprano. Her self-assured honesty and directness, her sympathetic vulnerability won our hearts. However, as the famous diva, she seemed a bit reserved and lacked the effusively glamorous “star power” which the Csardas Princess of the Orpheum would require.

Jonathan Zeng was an elegant and dashing Edwin Weylersheim. Handsome and slim, he was the perfect picture of a young lover. His reliable tenor voice handled the role with ease. Kalman was not always kind to his singers, and the first duet for Sylva and Edwin lies in a particularly difficult tessitura, which Mr. Zeng and Ms. Petersen negotiated successfully. We have followed Mr. Zeng since he was a student at Western Illinois State University. He has talent, but seemed to hold something back, both vocally and personally.  We think that he may have projected more personal and vocal warmth, tenderness, and passion if he had been allowed to play Edwin as real nobility, instead of as just the son of a wealthy industrialist.

Emma Sorenson, as Edwin’s cousin Stasi, was a revelation. If you can imagine Gina Davis with the voice of Kiri Te Kanawa, you would have an approximation of the impact of Ms. Sorenson. Her tall, slim beauty and warm open presence fills the stage. Her portrayal of Stasi, which often comes across as somewhat bitter and bitchy, was full of wittily impish fun and empathy. We plan to keep an eye on Ms. Sorenson.

Every operetta depends upon an indispensable ensemble of comprimario, or character roles to provide plot twists and conflict, as well as providing expository information to move things along. This “Csardas Princess” benefited tremendously from their contributions. William Roberts brought a luxuriously ample, warm voice and expansive charm to the role of Boni, the bon vivant who acts as Sylva’s manager and accomplice in the Act II ruse to crash Edwin’s engagement party to Stasi. His portrayal was reminiscent of P.D. Wodehouse’s Wooster, albeit on a big-house operatic scale. It was a blessing to hear Bill Chamberlain as Boni’s partner in crime, Feri. His seasoned professional voice, touching humanity, and wry humor were the perfect foil for Mr. Roberts’ bloviating and provided a centering influence for the production. And as Edwin’s mother, Anni Weylersheim, Rosalind Hurwitz’ sparkling wit and energy demonstrated that it is not only the young who enjoy romance. They were joined by a youthful but talented chorus of eight very talented young performers who constantly projected enthusiasm for both the production and the music. We haven’t seen a group of singers collectively have so much fun in years.

“Csardas Princess” continues its run at Stage 773 on West Belmont St. through July 22. Future plans for Folks Operetta include a “Reclaimed Voices” series featuring the works of composers who have been long overlooked, primarily because of the political and racial climate which enveloped Europe in the 20th Century. We look forward to this ambitious series.  

The OperaSwains, Bill and Margaret

“Broadway & The Bard”, Len Cariou’s idea of combining his two great loves – Shakespeare and the American Musical, is a heartwarming and tender paean to the art forms which made him an icon of the American stage. Conceived following his Broadway appearances as Shakespeare’s Henry V in 1968 and opposite Lauren Bacall in 1969, it consists of ingenious pairings of Shakespearian monologues, and both well-known and obscure musical selections from The Great White Way, in which Mr. Cariou gives full voice to his passion.

Mr. Cariou is 79 years old, so we really didn’t know what to expect. It has been awhile since his Tony Award winning triumph as Sweeney Todd. He did get off to a somewhat shaky start, most obviously with pitch problems in his upper range. Perhaps he was trying to conserve energy and had not properly warmed up. Perhaps there was lack of support because he was seduced by the false promise of amplification. The venue was a very small space – why bother with amplification? As a result, it took a while for the audience to immerse itself in the performance.

However, this was Len Cariou. A few flat notes are not a problem. The epitome of honesty, Cariou’s brilliance is rooted in total dedication to his art and his immersion in the meaning of the text, his compelling selfless confidence in the mastery of his craft, and massive stage presence. His irresistible charm, humor, and laser-like smile blasts across the footlights and envelopes his audience. Never maudlin, self-indulgent, or boasting, he shows a complete absence of self-consciousness, traits usually absent from other one-man-shows or cabaret acts.

The accompanist for a venture of this kind is often overlooked or given secondary status, but Cariou is blessed to have found Mark Janas, whose virtuosic, pianistic brilliance and bedrock support for the singer never strayed beyond the boundaries of collaborative ensemble. This was one of the finest examples of accompanying that we have ever heard. It wasn’t clear what Barry Kleinbort contributed; it seemed that most of the explanatory banter before each grouping could have just as easily been improvised by Cariou. Scenic design by Josh Acovelli looked as if whoever occupied the space last didn’t quite finish with their strike. We might have thought we were in the wrong theater, but for the obligatory bust of Will just upstage of the Steinway grand piano.

Performed at Chicago's Stage 773, “Broadway & The Bard” is often clever, such as when Benedick’s Act II, scene 1 speech lamenting his vow to never fall in love segued into Gershwin’s “Nice Work If You Can Get It” and “How Long Has This Been Going On?”, or Petrucchio’s misogynistic speeches from “The Taming of the Shrew” morphed into “How to Handle a Woman” from “Camelot” - when we were expecting “Kiss Me Kate”. However, there were occasionally abrupt or jarring segues, such as when the viciously ambitious Act III, scene 2 speech of Richard II goofily became “If I Ruled the World”, by Ornadel and Bricusse. Nevertheless Matt Berman’s atmospheric lighting seemed to help soften these moments by gently taking the audience out of one theatrical reality into another.

Mr. Cariou’s concept of monologue and melody peaked with Marc Antony’s Act III “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” speech from “Julius Caesar”, in which Cariou gave full reign to the vestiges of former power and range of the great singing actor who dominated the Broadway Theater for nearly four decades, and was followed by a wonderfully insightful “Forget Medley” of songs by Rogers and Hammerstein, Kander and Ebb, Alan Jay Lerner, and a setting of Shakespeare’s “Fear no more” by Stephen Sondheim which left the audience all but breathless.

Inevitably, as though in recognition that his days are numbered, Cariou entered Lear’s Act II, scene 4 monologue in which Lear acknowledges the fragility of life and rails against his daughters’ faithlessness. Segueing into Kurt Weill’s “September Song” provided the most moving and tender moment, as if Mr. Cariou was using this vehicle to say goodbye to his audience and career.
“Brush Up Your Shakespeare”, for sooth!

Bill & Margaret Swain

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)