Rossini’s Le Comte Ory
LoftOpera
The Muse, Bushwick
June 11, 2016
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| The count and his entourage wax holy. Photo credit: Robert Altman |
While exiting the Wilson subway stop on the L train, we played the
by now usual game of “follow the cellist.” If you see a classical musician in
deep Bushwick, chances are that they’re heading to a LoftOpera happening, so we
just ditch Google maps and B-line it behind him. This time, as with every other
time, the hurried cellist led us straight to a warehouse in the middle of
nowhere, where the buzz and crowds were bigger than ever. The venue (The Muse,
a circus school) was literally bursting at the seams, with patrons who did not
know where to sit and squeezed tightly on benches. It was a hot evening and by
the end it only got hotter.
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| Follow that cello! Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco |
Le Comte Ory is an extremely
ambitious project for an indie company. Theatrically, it’s an irreverent,
borderline slapstick comedy which is way more difficult than a tragedy to stage
effectively. Musically, you need stellar soloists capable of incredible bel
canto acrobatics, a tight orchestra versed in Rossini’s quickfire style and a
pretty big chorus that plays a central role in various scenes. LoftOpera took
on the challenge, gambled and won – again – big time.
We were off to a great start, with the genius idea of having a
couple of aerialists dressed like nuns do an opening warm-up number to modern
beats including Prince and early Kanye West. It may seem irreverent and risqué
but it’s actually perfectly in line with the spirit of Le Comte Ory, in which among other things Rossini has
a group of soldiers crossdressed as nuns engaging in all sorts of debaucheries,
including getting heavily drunk. So, some flying nuns dancing through the air
over our heads to Prince just made sense.
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| Flying nuns, oh my! Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco |
When it came to the actual opera, from the first bars of the
overture, the sheer beauty, mischief and energy of Rossini’s score erupted from
the orchestra lead by maestro Sean Kelly and remained truly the central
character and propulsive force of the whole evening. The orchestra played like
a tightly clenched fist. It was soothing to fall under the spell of Rossini’s
giddy score despite the heat that was so hot you could cut it with a knife and
melt a pad of butter on it. Nothing to do but hand yourself over to the feeling of
the here and now of the musical moment. Beer was on tap this time, so no beer bottles and
no clinking of glass falling to the ground during the show which I almost
missed, since it has always been part of the LoftOpera sonic aesthetic,
though the overall acoustic experience was definitely cleaner as a result.
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| Sharin Apostolou devours Rossini's score. Photo credit: Robert Altman |
The cast was for the most part vocally exceptional. Soprano Sharin
Apostolou in the role of the Comtesse Adèle was the singer who perhaps most
chewed up Rossini’s bel canto score. She lingered on her character’s big show
stopping pieces, vocally opening up a space for musical rapture. If time
stopped tonight it was when Apostolou was singing. She owned her countess with
solid bel canto chops and the requisite sex appeal that helped to justify why
she might be the object of affection of so many.
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| Isolier clings to his master. Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Mezzo Elizabeth Pojanowski in the trouser role of Isolier
was also a highlight. She had an agility and a youthful wistfulness in her
representation of the young forlorn lover. She also had a knack for playing a
young man: adapting the boyish mannerisms, gait, and gaze of one in the first
throes of love. She was fun to watch. The first time Pojanowski came on stage
accompanying Ory’s Tutor, sung by bass-baritone Jeff Beruan, I sighed a
great sigh of aesthetic relief. Beruan has a warm bellyful sound that is
dark-hued and guttural yet lyric and he used it to fill up the cavernous
warehouse space.
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| Ory's tutor fusses over personal hygiene Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Tenor Thorsteinn Arbjornsson brought an irreverent childish
freshness to his Comte Ory. Though his voice was not the strongest, Arbjornsson
played the slippery charlatan with flair that was never over the top. In the
first act, his mystic hermit was a psychedelic guru along the lines of the
pseudo-cult frauds and phonies that are a dime a dozen on the Internet: a
Bashar with a pink porn-star mustache and an adolescent’s libido. The Count
represents after all a twisted take on the Don Giovanni figure. Ory is his
failure of a distant second cousin – related but nowhere near as competent, not
oozing with the same innate charisma.
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| A boisterous moment with the male chorus Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Possibly my most favorite parts of the show were the explosive
ensembles when really everything and everybody came together in a whirlwind of
hypnotic and dizzying music, singing and acting. In these moments, the
14-member chorus really stood out and carried the show both musically and
narratively. Particularly memorable was the always hilarious scene of Ory’s men
disguised as nuns (to infiltrate a convent) who are unhappy with the dinner of du
laitage et des fruits (here rendered as “fruity dairy,” aka yogurt that the
male chorus ate feigning disgust) and manage to procure and consume lots of
booze that of course leads them to all sort of mischief (including undressing
and playing Twister! Just before doing the can-can, of course). No matter how
many times I’ve seen Ory, this scene always makes me crack up. Belly laughs
abounded throughout the evening, and frankly there was not even need to read
the supertitles, one just needed to let go and get carried away by Rossini’s
contagious magic.
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| The slumber party devolves into dancing and Twister Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Seeing Comte Ory in this setting was at once surreal and
exhilarating. If one was catching the show for the first time, one may think
that this indie company (free beers!) somehow updated a 1828 Italo-French opera
to make it racier (threesome!), more irreverent (intoxicated dancing nuns) and
provocative (spiritual guru gets paid with sex). But, actually, aside from the
addition of cell phones, selfies and Yoplait, the production directed by John
de los Santos was otherwise by the book. There was no regietheatre
here, still, the show felt like a raucous avant-garde piece. The backdrop of an
exposed brick circus school in Bushwick, steamy temperatures and the loft party
vibe just enhanced Rossini’s original irreverence in the most perfect way. It
is a testament to the composer and his librettist that this material is so
fresh and has remained so racy even by today’s standards. There is no need to
take it out of its original context. No updating is necessary in order to make
it uproariously accessible to a contemporary audience. This is the beauty of
LoftOpera’s mission: bring the classics to new audiences in the kind of setting
in which years ago I would otherwise found myself in a warehouse party or indie
rock concert. It’s like the scene is all grown up, in a way.
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| Various seduction plots collide in threesome Photo credit: Robert Altman |
–
Lei & Lui
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| The various stages of pursuit Photo credit: Robert Altman |
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| The mystic hermit lures his prey Photo credit: Robert Altman |
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| Raucous "nuns" dance the cancan Photo credit: Robert Altman |
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