Mozart’s Così fan tutte
LoftOpera
101 Varick Ave, Bushwick
September 18, 2016
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| The sisters turn on, tune in and drop out. Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Lei: By now the schlep to
Bushwick to get our indie opera fix is starting to feel routine: we embark on
an L train to some abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, to then turn a
corner and find the bright “O P E R A” sign, familiar friendly faces, and an
eager sense of anticipation for the night’s show. This time around we were
particularly intrigued primarily because one of our favorite directors, Louisa
Proske, was moonlighting at LoftOpera from her own indie company Heartbeat; but
also because Mozart’s Così fan tutte is especially meaningful to us as
it is the piece that brought this opera-obsessed couple together a few years
ago.
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| X marks the spot of my heart Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Lui: We have come to know Louisa
Proske’s work quite well over time as inventive, edgy, detail-oriented and
thought-provoking and had high expectations for her maiden voyage with the
company that defines itself as a cross between a loft party and an opera
startup. The collaboration turned out to be everything we were hoping for and
delivered possibly the subtlest and most bountiful direction we have seen at
LoftOpera so far.
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| The '90s are back! Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Lei: Proske set the show in the
early ’90s: grunge rock and Dr. Martens are in. The two couples are high
school-aged teenagers, in love and angsty and rightly so. The youthful take
completely fits Da Ponte’s libretto, which is really all about the bitter
lessons learned by youngsters living their first romance. But the innovative
touches were not limited to costume. Proske elicited some extremely specific
acting from all of the cast: Guglielmo and Ferrando are two dudes goofing
around (they high five, do push ups, play air guitars in Una bella serenata,
drink their beer straight from the can); Fiordiligi and Dorabella are pouty
little teenage vixens (they drink bourbon out of a water gun, cross their
hearts with lipstick and read Cosmo in a clutter-filled room populated
by several stuffed animals); Despina is their sassy cleaning lady (sporting an
all-denim outfit and a very flashy fanny pack); and Don Alfonso is the fellas’
extremely square yet cynical school teacher.
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| Arsenic is taken intravenously. Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Lui: In a very ’90s fashion,
drugs played an important role in the production. First, in the fake poison
scene (L’arsenico mi liberi / da tanta crudeltà), Guglielmo and Ferrando
storm in, their belts tied around their biceps, their hands waving syringes
loaded with coma-inducing substances. Far more credible and immediate than the
usual little arsenic bottles most commonly used in traditional productions.
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| At first the girls are militant in their resistance Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Possibly the most important illicit substance use comes into play
later. To explain away their sudden change of heart in the opening of Act II,
Dorabella and Fiordiligi actually take a hit of acid, and the trippy fun
begins. The girls become both more and less flighty at the same time. Everybody
suddenly dons an animal mask as the girls literally trip out. The look on their
faces as they took in the strangeness around them was priceless. The guy with a
faux hawk sitting next to me was on the edge of his seat cracking up. He “got”
it, and the hilarity was contagious.
Interestingly, as the sisters cave into the boys’ tricks and
saunter away to consummate their lust, they do so wearing animal masks. And so,
when pushed (through acid or otherwise), the inner beast that lurks inside each
of us comes prancing out. On the level of the already slightly trippy
symmetries of Da Ponte’s formulaic plot with its neat logical reversals, Louisa
Proske took the story at its psychedelic face value. And I applaud her for
that.
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| It brings the beast out of us all Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Lei: Good trip, bad trip.
Dorabella has a euphoric trip that ends in the fulfillment of her “love.”
Fiordiligi has a bad trip and ends up hallucinating a series of scary beasts
when she gazes at her pursuer. Un’aspide, un idra, un basilisco: the
list of euphemisms (traditionally used to refer to Ferrando’s membro virile)
are now the horrors she sees under the influence and she flips out. Brilliant!
The poor girl just isn’t comfortable either with herself or with the situation
and the LSD only heightens that. A very clever twist on the libretto.
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| Guglielmo is worldly wise after seducing his best friend's girl Photo credit: Robert Altman |
Lui: Baritone Alex DeSocio
played Guglielmo as a solid “dude.” In Non siate ritrosi / occhietti vezzosi
he humorously showed off the many virtues of the “Albanians” with excellent
Italian diction. His singing was particularly moving when he wandered into the
woods of disappointment and defeat. His Il core vi dono was round and
romantic. It’s one of the central seduction moments in the opera and it sounded
sufficiently compelling in his mouth and his acting was exceptional. In Donne
mie, la fate a tanti, he rode the fast-paced aria with expressivity and
clarity in a drunken rage. At the same time, he played a goofy jock of a jerk
to perfection with all the quirky high fives such a show of brute masculinity
requires. Tenor Spencer Viator as Ferrando delivered a solid Un’aura
amorosa and had tremendous stage presence throughout, particularly when
teaming up in various shenanigans with DeSocio. Many times Viator had me
laughing hard, his acting always specific and super in character.
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| Fiordiligi pleads for forgiveness Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco |
Soprano Megan Pachecano as Fiordiligi was also very
commanding. Her voice projected out beautifully in front of Don Alfonso and
Dorabella’s in Soave sia il vento. Her longing was palpable. She is the
one who most wants the boys to stay and so her voice trails after them like a
sail in front of the wind hoping to catch up with them. Her Come scoglio
was a showstopper both vocally and acting-wise. And she carried much of Act II
through her reluctant acceptance of Despina’s lessons in the art of carpe
diem. Her Per pietà, ben mio, perdona was a moment of meditative
reflection on her desire to be reunited with the one she really loves, not this
sorry excuse for a vaguely Borat-looking Eastern European gangster. Mezzo Sarah Nelson Craft as Dorabella was another excellent acting singer. Her Smanie
implacabili was delivered with force and pathos and her many duets with
Pachecano were a pleasure to hear. Her chesty mezzo so beautifully grounded
their Soave sia il vento, that I would have loved to have heard her school
us on È amore un ladroncello. But alas, putting these young voices
through three consecutive nights of singing amounts to too much strain and
something has to go!
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| Despina holds forth as the notary Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco |
Lei: The singer that truly stole
the show for me was soprano Michelle Trovato as Despina. Her clean,
lyric and agile soprano delivered sensational renditions of In uomini, in
soldati / sperare fedeltà and Una donna a quindici anni, all while
flirting with male members of the audience as if to prove her point. Life’s too
short to play it safe. Sassy, saucy and charming, Trovato is an infectious
actress, who is equally convincing (and utterly hilarious) as the savvy jaded
maid, the quack doctor and the nerdy notary. She savored the sound of much of
the Italian every time she opened her mouth and whenever she was on stage she
captivated everybody with her serious attitude as well as her humor – a true
delight.
Lui: Baritone Gary Ramsey’s
Don Alfonso underwent much more of a transformation than most productions allow
for. Early in the opera he played the character as something of an effete
substitute teacher who is jaded by his past failures in love and is still a bit
sfigato. By Act II we see him for what he really is (I guess): a
diabolical fellow, almost Mephistophelian, who all too eagerly leads these
youngsters on a quest toward wisdom and the loss of innocence such a journey
often entails. In Act I he dons a circa 1990s beige and baggy Men’s Warehouse
suit. His rebirth in Act II finds him done up with demonic clown-like rouge on
his cheeks, slick black trousers and a white blouse emblazoned with flaming
satanic-looking verses. His Italian has much improved though it is neither as
perfect nor as musical as it needs to be. But his delivery suited this take on
the character.
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| Don Alfonso gets all Mephisto Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco |
Lei: No detail was small enough
for this production, including a great use of lighting, designed by Oliver
Wason, to suggest interior states in a few key moments, like Fiordiligi’s
showcase aria, Come scoglio. The lighting changes and we enter
Fiordiligi’s head space. In the eye of her mind she has super powers that
enable her to put these sleeze bag suitors in their place, Darth Vader-style.
She throws them around using the “force” of her gestures. Or something like
that. A cute and clever take on the prude who is firmest in her convictions.
The same occurred in the nuptial brindisi quartet when Ferrando and Fiordiligi
are head over heels in love now and Guglielmo is feeling left out and
embittered. He wishes they were drinking poison (Ah, bevessero del tossico /
queste volpi senza onor). Again with the help of the lighting, we step out
of narrative time and simultaneously into the lover’s locking eyes and into the
sinister disillusionment of Guglielmo’s perspective on the scene. What the
score communicates through the multitrack quartet, Wason literalizes with his
lighting choices.
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| Ready to tie the knot Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco |
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| Image credit: LoftOpera |
– Lui & Lei
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| Dorabella & Fiordiligi having teenage fun Photo credit: Jamie Lynn Santamour |
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