Showing posts with label Laine Rettmer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Laine Rettmer. Show all posts

Monday, December 12, 2016

All Hail, This Macbeth

Verdi’s Macbeth
LoftOpera
MAST Chocolate Factory, Brooklyn Navy Yards
December 10, 2016

All hail, LoftOpera's Macbeth
Photo credit: Robert Altman
The LoftOpera experience is always an extreme one, in abandoned industrial spaces that are steaming hot in the summer and freezing cold in the winter. But that is also one of the elements that makes this company so radically bold and unassumingly cutting edge. There is something subversive and secret-society-like about walking your way through deserted urban wastelands to look for an “OPERA” sign, of all things. Once you finally get into the venue, the contrast between the rawness of the surroundings and the superb artistic quality and sophistication of the performance is a thing of sublime beauty – and this time more than ever as they tackle their most ambitious project to date.

That comforting secret society sign
Photo credit: Allegri con fuoco
The indie company had initially announced Kurt Weil’s Mahoganny as their December show, but thank goodness something made them change their minds and they switched to Verdi’s Macbeth instead. Weil is interesting but Verdi is just grand.

But how do you do grand opera in a factory on a budget and still deliver? We could describe the sets, costumes, clever use of the space, projections, staging ideas, which were all very nice, but what truly made this show memorable was the music, performed by a stellar cast and a tight orchestra, led by maestro and music director Sean Kelly. Every singer on stage was extraordinary, from the leads to the chorus. I don’t know how they managed to assemble such a top-notch group across the board. Even big houses like the Met usually cast a mixed bag of singers where if you’re lucky the good ones make you forget the mediocre or bad ones. In this case LoftOpera truly orchestrated a perfect musical storm.

Born to be Macbeth
Photo credit: Robert Altman
Baritone Craig Irvin embodied Macbeth body and soul and rendered him as a man completely and utterly possessed. With a clear, handsome sound and impeccable Italian diction he intoned the Scot’s musical lines with dark and commanding delivery that boomed through the cavernous space. Irvin is a powerful singer-actor and from the moment he opened his mouth he had me hooked and drew me into Macbeth’s downward spiral of power, ambition and self-destruction. From our seats in the second row, he was Macbeth in his eyes, the way he carried his brow, in his mouth framed by a very fitting beard, down to the core of his being. This is not an easy role and Irvin not only delivered it but he also made it his own in a raging, almost diabolical way. It seems like this run is a role debut for him, which makes it even more impressive that he could embody it so brilliantly.

In director’s Laine Rettmer’s take, the tables are turned from the more common interpretation where it is Lady Macbeth who pushes her husband to evil deeds. This production introduces, during the overture, a backstory where the Macbeths lost their young son, which seems to suggest that grief and childlessness are some of the propelling forces here, and perhaps Lady M bears more of the burden than her husband. 


The sexual politics are reversed
Photo credit: Robert Altman
In fact, here it is Macbeth who pushes his wife to suicide during his Pietà, rispetto, amore. In this pathos invoking aria of realization and reflection on his guilt and the futility of his plans, he pushes a huge rock across the rear of the stage space, with his wife perched on top in the midst of her final breakdown. She commits suicide while he reflects on the vicissitudes of his fate. He came across as the more diabolical one, which was reinforced by other little directorial choices. Rather than focus on the indelible stains on his hands, this Macbeth wore Duncan’s blood stained stole as a royal accessory (instead of the traditional crown). As a symbol of his bloodguilt, the stole becomes a voluntary reminder that he could easily get rid of, yet he wears it with a certain hubristic pride. The deep dark pride of Irvin’s voice also vividly elevated this characteristic take on the story, not to mention his profound acting chops.

Lady Macbeth responds to the letter
Photo credit: Robert Altman
Soprano Elizabeth Baldwin as Lady Macbeth was vocally electrifying and delivered her several show-stopping scenes with gusto, power and agility. Her soprano has dark undertones and the wide range required for this role. In her opening Vieni t’affretta she truly gave it her all and held certain final notes for what seemed longer than usual, in an impressive virtuoso display. In the drinking song Si colmi il calice she was delightful and graciously balanced the joyful tune with the efforts to reign in her hallucinating husband. And her sleepwalking aria Una macchia è qui tuttora was cookoo and almost child-like. Generally, Baldwin’s acting came across as less aggressive than usual for this role, in line with the production’s take where she lost her child and her husband is the more evil of the couple.  

Bass Kevin Thompson as Banco was spectacular and possibly one of the most handsome and effortlessly powerful bass voices I have ever heard live. He reminds me of Rene Pape but with warmer and sexier undertones. Thompson’s instrument is smooth, deeply melodic and just hypnotically enthralling. And strong, oh so strong. I was sad to see him die so early in Act II as I just could not get enough of him. He was a commanding grounding force in the initial duet with Macbeth and delivered his last aria Come dal ciel precipita before getting assassinated with heart-wrenching and chilling effects. He also strikes a humble, caring presence when he dons the hat of father to his son in the culmination of Act II. This is a singer to watch out for.

The ensemble cast was killer
Photo credit: Robert Altman
Another terrific singer I wished had more to do was tenor Peter Scott Drackley as Macduff. While he had truly only one big aria, Ah, la paterna mano, he delivered it as though his life depended on it while he grieved over his family murdered by Macbeth. With perfect Italian, soaring expressivity and a clean sound, he created one of those moments where time stopped, and tears streamed down my face.

The chorus of witches unleashed
Photo credit: Robert Altman
The chorus was top notch, too, particularly in the Act I finale Schiudi inferno where it asks God to punish Duncan’s death. You could feel the emotions tingling in the soles of your feet, in your legs and running up your spine. It was spectacularly chilling, just as a true Macbeth should be. And in Act IV’s opening Patria oppressa, the chorus was magnificently moving in this patriotic bit Verdi snuck in (nothing to do with the Shakespearean original but hey it’s the Risorgimento in Italy).

Lady M tries again to wash her hands clean
Photo credit: Robert Altman
When it came to staging, the production made a great use of the MAST chocolate factory cathedral-like space. The sets per se amounted to little more than two rock-like structures strewn with moss, but the stairs that led to the upper level of the facility were equally used, as were the walls (for projections, mostly in the prophecy scene). Also, I particularly enjoyed how the group of witches emerged from the cavernous back of the “stage,” literally as ghostly figures emerging from darkness. A simple yet very impactful effect.

Yes, the venue lacked heating (I felt for Lady M when she poured a carafe of bloody water over herself in Act IV), but as we walked out into the industrial navy yard with the skyline glistening under the snow, we could only feel exhilaration. Because when Macbeth is done so well it’s just so damn good.

Lei & Lui
Is that a dagger I see before me?
Photo credit: Robert Altman

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Donizetti off the L Train

Lucrezia Borgia 
LoftOpera
April 11, 2015 - LightSpace Studios (Brooklyn)


Photo credit: Sam Slaughter 
When I got off the L train at Jefferson Street, I surfaced into a lonely no man’s land of abandoned storefronts, used car dealerships and rusty barbed-wire fences. It felt like an industrial far west, windy and desolate. I sighed and pulled out my phone to google map my destination, doing my best to ignore a guy cat-calling at me from a speeding pick up truck. All of a sudden a cellist briskly walked past me, looking like he knew where he was going. Relieved, I happily put my phone away and rushed to follow the musician, confident that he would lead me to the venue for LoftOpera’s production of one of my most favorite Donizetti operas: the poisonous, heart-wrenching and exciting Lucrezia Borgia.

Photo credit: Sam Slaughter
Photo credit: Sam Slaughter
The streets may have been desolate but the vibe inside LightSpace Studios was as hip and bubbly as the most artsy and edgy gallery opening, the bar handing out Brooklyn lagers, under 30 audience members dangling legging wearing legs from a duplex balcony - definitely not your average NYC opera scene. The only vague indicator of a theatrical performance was a small dimly lit stage curtain at the back of the room, though the focus seemed to rather be a big empty rectangular area at the center of the space, surrounded by folded blankets and few rows of backless benches. Notwithstanding a 30 piece orchestra crumpled in a corner, techno music was pumping and the whole set-up looked a bit too trendy for an opera as grand as Lucrezia. I started to worry, but I shouldn’t have: from the moment the lights and techno music went off, my Donizetti-butchering fears were quickly dissipated as the orchestra led by Sean Kelly masterfully attacked the prologue and remained phenomenal through the opera’s finale. There were a few cuts here and there, but mostly to parts of spies and wingmen of Lucrezia and her husband that really did not detract much from the narrative core of the opera. All costumes were by high fashion Italian maison Etro, which made for a pretty extravagant and luxurious modern take on the original Renaissance setting.

Photo credit: LoftOpera
Soprano Joanna Parisi carried and made the show as Lucrezia. Ms. Parisi has a chesty and supremely agile voice and an intense stage presence. Her Lucrezia was a sexy platinum blonde strutting around on platform heels and jeweled dresses while at the same time rendering the anti-heroine complex emotional spectrum in all its nuances from motherly tenderness to raging fury to vengeful scheming and defeated desperation. The duets with her son Gennaro were deeply moving, while the confrontation with her husband the Duke of Ferrara was the perfect crescendo from a very physical seduction (where she managed to super-humanly sing from his lap while arching her back and dipping her head almost to the floor) to the most pyrotechnic fury. This Lucrezia is not afraid to use any of her weapons, from sex to poisoned wine, to get what she wants. She is a scary powerful tyrant who murders her opponents left and right, yes, but one that cannot be entirely loathed as we see her trapped by her own wrongdoings when it comes to the tragic relationship with her illegitimate son, which is really the emotional core of the opera. Ms. Parisi vividly brought to life the tension between public terror-inducing power and private tender motherly love, as a most viscerally captivating and charismatic Lucrezia.

Photo credit: Ellen Marie Hindson
Photo credit: Sam Slaughter
Photo credit: Triebensee
As it often happens with strong leading ladies when they’re so good, everybody else in the cast was below Parisi, however this disparity did not affect the overall package. Tenor Nikhil Nakval as Gennaro, while not the most handsome voice, was fresh and ardent, his best moments in the duets with Lucrezia. Mezzo Melissa Collom as Maffio Orsini was not in full form (she apparently had a bad cold but sung nevertheless) and it showed as she sounded a bit muffled. Bass Matthew Anchel had impressive stage presence as the Duke of Ferrara, threatening and entitled, but not an equally big voice. Tenor Michael Kuhn as his wingman Rustighello had a small part but was vocally crisp and charismatic. The rest of the cast was comprised of baritone Joel Herold (Gubetta), tenor Spence Viator (Liverotto), bass-baritone Isaiah Musik-Ayala (Gazella), bass Andrew Hiers (Petrucci) and tenor Jordan Pitts (Vitellozzo), who all did a terrific job in the chorus scenes, from debonair gallivanting to chillingly belligerent.    

Photo credit: Sam Slaughter

Photo credit: L'Altro
Direction by Laine Rettmer was mostly great, transposing effectively to decadent modern day debauchery the original Renaissance plot. I particularly enjoyed the raucous group scenes (that more than ever reminded me of Rigoletto’s cortigiani) and the take on Lucrezia’s uber-seductive ways. One choice I strongly disagreed with, however, was to have the character of Maffio Orsini be the “sometimes girlfriend” of Lucrezia’s son Gennaro (according to the director’s notes). While Lucrezia lacks a traditional love interest plot point, the male friendship between Gennaro and Orsini fills that space in the most sincere and non-traditional way. Turning this bond from deep male camaraderie (one saves the other’s life in battle and since then the two are bound together) to a fleeting romantic fling just does not work with the plot and most importantly with the libretto, not to mention it cheapens the relationship between the two characters.  But, Rettmer nailed the finale, when Lucrezia in a desperate rage for having killed her own son throws with fury an empty bottle of poisoned wine against the wall with the (B)orgia insignia. The glass bottle shattered and the public roared. Rightly so, as LoftOpera’s production team lead by general manager Brianna Maury delivered a most visceral, electrifying and captivating bel canto performance. The intimate space helped, as one felt the air vibrate and could hear every breath and sigh of the singers. Most importantly, the 1833 Donizetti masterpiece felt more alive and furiously kicking than ever, even to the under-30 leg-dangling audience - evenings like this give hope to opera.  

- Lei

Photo credit: Sam Slaughter