Die Fantastik Silver Screen Flöte

Mozart’s The Magic Flute (Die Zauberflöte)

Opera Philadelphia’s Festival O17

Academy of Music

September 22, 2017

Wolfie goes to the movies.
Photo credit: Robert Millard

Lui: What if Pamina were a Louise Brooks silent film star, Tamino her dashing tuxedoed beau, and Papageno reincarnated as Buster Keaton with a mean whistle? The Queen of the Night a giant spider, her ladies three pouting flapper witches! Monostatos a dead ringer for Nosferatu and Sarastro something like the man behind the curtain from the Wizard of Oz...

The Queen of the Night as a giant knife throwing spider
Photo credit: Opera Philadelphia

Lei: With these reimagined characters, 1927’s fantastic production comes to the Opera Philadelphia Festival O17. We had seen videos of it but the live performance surpassed every expectation – a pure delight from start to finish that managed to jazz up Die Zauberflöte with an exciting design and concept. After all, this is the perfect opera to go crazy with. Considering the imaginary world it already conjures, the sky is really the limit! Paul Barritt’s animations enlivened the whole thing and were always tons of fun, all while matching the musical rhythms and illustrating the key plot points in energetic and spellbinding ways.

Tamino flees the dragon with the help of projected legerdemain
Photo credit: Craig Matthew

Lui: The set was literally a vertical blank canvas, a white wall for the uber-imaginative projections, with singers positioned all over, from stage level to mid air, thanks to a few little revolving platforms, so that often the characters just happened to materialize out of thin air.  

For the most part, the scenes conjured by the creative team were unpredictable and dynamic, all while (sort of) keeping the overarching contrast between the magical mysterious world of the Queen of the Night (dragons, enchantments, dangerous creatures) and the rational more “civilized” universe of Sarastro (populated by men in top hats and intricate mechanized creatures).

Monostatos sicks his dogs on the captive Pamina
Photo credit: Opera Philadelphia 

Lei: No words can do justice to the sheer pleasure of this production. It must be seen to be appreciated. However, among the most memorable moments I would include: the opening scene of Tamino hyper-kinetically running away from a charging dragon; Pamina and Papageno making their escape by jumping from one rooftop to the next in their flight from Monostatos; the magic bells that transform threatening wolves into can-can dancing fools by conking them on their heads; Papageno flying around with Walt Disney’s Dumbo-inspired pink elephants after drinking several big pink cocktails; the use of deep sea scenes for the water trial and of a fire monster during the trial of fire (a monster who is then turned into a big puppy by the power of music) and so on. The highlights just don’t stop.

The terrifying guard wolves become dancing can-can girls
Photo credit: Minnesota Opera

Lui: The production did a terrific job of pacing the projections with the music, including during the most lyrical and contemplative love arias when time stops. In Act I, when Tamino pours his heart out for his beloved, he is alone in alone in a corner, with smoky lines of female figures slowly and sinuously tracing themselves out against the background as he sings. And when it is Pamina’s turn for her big longing aria in Act II, she is also alone encapsulated in a snow globe, as if to symbolize the lonely winter of her heart when she feels abandoned by her beau.

Pink elephants feed Papageno massive pink cocktails
Photo credit: Iko Freese

Lei: Some animations completely reinvented elements of the opera: the “magic flute” is turned into a little flapper fairy in the nude who produces flowy bars of music whenever she flies around. The silver bells given to Papageno are a troop of headless doll-like chorus girls who jump around in formation anytime they are unleashed. Nutty. But often also so very funny. In a way the power of those two special musical instruments is symbolized by sassy female energy – why not?!

Papageno and Papagena are fruitful and multiply
Photo credit: Opera Philadelphia

Lui: But, some projections also closely traced the libretto, as when in the famous Papageno/Papagena duet an animation of a dollhouse appears in the background and, as they start to sing about mating and breeding a bunch of kleinen Papagenos and Papagenas, the house begins to sprout children in every room until it is crawling with little ones in a veritable army of a happy family.

The magic flute is now a little naked fairy who emanates musical notation
Photo credit: Komische Oper Berline

Lei: The singers weren’t entirely up to the task but the performances were nevertheless electrifying and fast paced. One common plague of The Magic Flute are the German singspiel passages that often come off so flat and empty in a standard production and usually feel like unnecessarily long-winded bits that just drag endlessly on and on.

The silent film intertitles enliven the singspiel doldrums
Photo credit: Craig Matthew

The 1927 production team solved for this issue with the genius idea of drastically reducing the spoken bits of dialogue and replacing them with silent film-style intertitles. The content of those obnoxious singspiel narrative interstices was boiled down to a minimum amount of text projected, in the form of very creative text art, directly onto the big screen wall and were accompanied by additional pieces of Mozart piano music.

Trial by fire!
Photo credit: Robert Millard

Lui: During these interludes, the singers were mugging in true silent-movie style with hilarious results. Also, hearing snippets from Wolfie’s fantasias for piano reutilized, as a silent film soundtrack, was thrilling. This approach also worked great in this new context, felt filmic and added another dramatic layer to the drama.

Lei: The Magic Flute has never been so much fun! I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, wondering what they would come up with next, often finding myself laughing in exhilarated wonder, blown away by the clever inventiveness of the production team. Refreshing and reinventing the canon? Yes, please!

– Lui & Lei

Things also get surreal
Photo credit: Craig Matthew

The three pouting flappers of the Queen of the Night
Photo credit: Craig Matthew 

It's good versus evil and that's not always so clear cut
Photo credit: Robert Millard

In the Garden of Love Triangles

Mozart’s La finta giardiniera (The Secret Gardener)

On Site Opera

West Side Community Garden

May 12, 2017

Love in the garden: On Site makes Mozart bucolic
Photo credit: Michelle V. Agins

On Site Opera’s stated mission of producing site-specific immersive operatic experiences is an exciting and ambitious one that in the past has led to some extremely clever and successful shows (but also some uneven ones). Their latest concept of staging the young Mozart’s La Finta Giardiniera in an idyllic Upper West Side garden was beautifully executed and delivered a delightful evening of opera al fresco.

The West Side Community Garden (Click to enlarge)
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco

Actually, on our particular night “al fresco” felt more like “al gelo” as temperatures were on the very chilly end of the spectrum. We were fine with a blanket but felt for the poor singers in summery costumes and even more for the musicians who were desperately trying to keep themselves warm with gloves and hats. Seems like the cold affected the orchestra under the baton of Goeffrey McDonald, sounding at times a bit too disjointed for Mozart. Nevertheless, the lovely West Side Community Garden, a gem of a space tucked in between the brownstones and the high-rise housing projects of the West 80s, was in full spring bloom and provided the perfect backdrop for the opera at stake.

Ramiro find himself in a love triangle
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco

Artistic director Eric Einhorn and his production team made wonderful use of the space - using the central round lawn as the main stage surrounded by seats for the public and color-changing string lights, but also having singers perform between the public on the outer circles of the garden. The whole experience was intimate and the acoustics also worked surprisingly well, thanks perhaps to the high walls on either side of the space.

Mozart’s La finta giardiniera, performed here in a ninety-minute abbreviated version and in English as The Secret Gardener, presents a series of overlapping love triangles, quadrangles and other geometries that would be enough to fill three old-fashioned Hollywood screwball romantic comedies.

Count Belfiore is a real man’s man with a short-fused temper to match. After Belfiore lashed out at his fiancée Lady Violet in a fit of passion, she has taken refuge as a gardener on the grounds of the Podestà, here known as the mayor. In hiding under the assumed name of Sandrina and working as a gardener, our victim of domestic violence now finds herself the unwilling object of her new employer’s attentions. The plight of women has never been easy.

Belfiore seduces a rake
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco

In the meantime, Sandrina’s manservant has taken a liking for Serpetta, another denizen of the garden, but Serpetta fosters nothing but distaste and disdain for him. The testosterone-addled Count Belfiore finds his way into the garden as well and falls impetuously in love with the mayor’s niece, Arminda. Seeing dollar signs, the mayor, who is pursuing Belfiore’s ex – unbeknownst to all involved – looks favorably on the match. The fresh-faced Ramiro, another satellite in the garden’s orbit, also has a crush on the fiery Arminda.

Will Serpetta give in to Nardo’s advances? Will the mayor get what he wants from Sandrina, his pert new gardener? Who will Arminda choose between the manly Count and the more effete young Ramiro? Or will Sandrina forgive the Count and return to the embraces she claims to miss and secretly can’t resist?

Confusion propels these bucolic lovers
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco

The first turning point in this vortex of frustrated loves comes when Nardo abandons all hope and says goodbye to Serpetta once and for all. Or rather, switching from English to Italian, he throws in the towel and, bidding her goodbye forever, says “Addio!” and then “Ciao!” That’s when everything clicks. As it turns out, Italian was the way to melt the ice around Serpetta’s heart all along. And Nardo aptly sings, “I-talian is the language of love.”  

"I-talian is the language of love"
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco

This is where I must elaborate on the travesty of On Site’s decision to present the opera in English, especially since they even ended up adding an aria in which the romantic potential of the original language is so fundamental. While I generally cringe whenever an opera is performed in translation, I have to admit that overall this one was not as terrible as feared. Not only did it sound tolerable musically, so often opera in English loses its poetry, but it also made it immediately easy to follow for an audience composed of young and old alike who had gathered together in a casual environment on such a brisk, if not downright chilly, evening (with really no infrastructure for supertitles).

Also, in La finta giardiniera the libretto is definitely not of Da Ponte quality, so there is little about the essence of the original that was so precious that it was worth saving at all costs. The playfulness of this juvenile opera, which Mozart composed at the age of eighteen, came across with clarity and an economy of purpose. On Site’s decision to cut many of the flabby bits in the story, like the sequence in which Sandrina and Belfiore lose their minds and confuse themselves for Greek gods, served to speed the tensions along more pleasantly, with greater levity.

The Mayor fusses around, holds forth, bumbles some more
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco

Soprano Alisa Jordheim sang Serpetta, the stony hearted maiden, with all the vibrancy and spunk one would expect from a young Daphne-like woman dead set on playing hard to get. Attired on the Punky Brewster end of the spectrum, only with flower prints, she was as adorable as she was fiery. Her soprano sounded clean and clear in the night air. Baritone Jorell Williams, in the role of Nardo, intoned with warmth and humor throughout the evening but especially during his playful aria of seduction about I-talian being the language love. Tenor Jonathan Blalock as the bumbling Podestà, here translated as the mayor, sang in high, slightly nasal tenor and played his character up as a bit of a cad. His acting verged on mugging most of the time, though he does have something of a knack for caricature.

Arminda unleashes a kaleidoscope emotions
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco

Mezzo Kristin Gornstein’s Ramiro elevated pining over an unrequited love to an art form. She was compelling in the trouser role and poured out her poetical, youthful heart in an elegant and mellifluous mezzo-soprano. I don’t think I have ever seen anyone’s face light up with so much joy when Ramiro finally earns the love of the woman he desires. It was a spine-tingling moment of wish fulfillment. Soprano Maeve Höglund as Arminda the mayor’s niece was one heck of a bombshell of a strong-willed woman. She perhaps had the most dynamic moments of the evening. Often in a single aria she took us on a rollercoaster ride from flirtation to death threat, to fawning lover and ferocious maneater. She was a wild animal on the loose, that is, until she is tamed by a certain fresh-faced young suitor.

The secret gardener searches for solace
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco

Soprano Ashley Kerr sang the title role of Sandrina, the Secret Gardener herself. She really hit her stride by the end of the evening. Her final plea to her short fused lover registered clear and firm at the end of a brisk evening of singing. Tenor Spencer Viator delivered the abusive Count Belfiore with warmth and agility.

Beth Goldenberg’s costume designs were elegant and intelligent, embodying all the attention to detail we have come to expect from her work in other shows around New York City.

The scene is set for sylvan amore
Photo credit: On Site Opera

All in all, the evening was a successful experiment that attracted and charmed a diverse non-traditional public (including many families with young children). Still, I-talian is not only the language of love but also the language of opera...

– Lei & Lui

Glittery Saturated Baroque at Juilliard

Handel’s Agrippina

Juilliard School of Music

February 16, 2017

  

A sickly Claudius who just keeps refusing to die
Photo credit: Richard Termine

I never pass up an opportunity to catch some staged fiery baroque opera. Agrippina, Handel’s semi-serious farce on the slow setting of the sun on the emperor Claudius’s reign, is one of those oddities that you just never know what to do with. It presents a slew of emotionally gripping serious musical moments which are then juxtaposed to many of the classic opera buffa tropes, some of which will make their way into Beaumarchais’ Figaro trilogy and from there into Mozart and Da Ponte’s Nozze di Figaro.

Whereas Agrippina reigns supreme
Photo credit: Hiroyuki Ito

Yet, Juilliard’s production of Agrippina was a beautifully crafted and richly detailed little package delivered with explosive flair. Which should come as no surprise since the show was directed by Heartbeat Opera’s Louisa Proske, who has been rapidly building a solid track record of detail-oriented, thoughtful and irreverent productions. The opera was staged in the Wilson Theater, one of the small black box venues buried deep in the labyrinthine studio space of the Juilliard School. The audience sat around a small sunken set covered in overlapping red-hued oriental rugs and the orchestra played from a platform above the rear of the “stage.” This setting provided a highly intimate experience with excellent acoustics, where the few lucky spectators could really focus on the action and the several show-stopping arias that are really the best part of this opera.

The whole cast was impressive for being so young in terms of their ability to nail this virtuosic baroque material with almost flawless Italian diction. They all handled the highly melismatic coloratura of the score with poise and skill and none of them were breathless in their pursuit of the period orchestra under the direction of Jeffrey Grossman, which sounded great yet not as muscular as my favorite renditions of Handel’s score.

Poppea (left) despairs before the Empress Agrippina
Photo credit: Hiroyuki Ito

Particularly impressive highlights were soprano Samantha Hankey (as Agrippina) and the countertenor Jakub Jozef Orlinski (as Ottone). Ms. Hankey reigned over the entire production grounding it in some semblance of seriousness. She embodied a fiercely scheming, power-hungry woman who is unstoppable in her aspiration of situating her son Nerone on the throne. Vocally, she was impressive, particularly in Pensieri, voi mi tormentate. Mr. Orlinski was particularly expressive and beautifully musical, all while displaying a kinetic stage presence. At one point he literally did three back flips consecutively in place that emphasized his exuberant joy when he realizes Poppea does return his love. I guess that when you have a breakdancing countertenor on hand, you have make the most of it.

Roman regalia meets baroque pomp meets steampunk strange
Photo credit: Hiroyuki Ito

The cast sported mostly awe-inspiring, eccentric costumes, sort of a cross between ancient Roman regalia and high baroque swank, with some extra glitter for good measure. Goth and steampunk elements were also slipped in under the radar adding an odd note to the mix. Also, while I get the importance of the many sexual tensions peppered through the plot, perhaps a giant hand-shaped sex toy used by Poppea’s suitors to express their arousal was probably a tad too much. On the other hand, Nerone crawling constantly out from behind his mother between her legs made more sense as it was semi-sexual but also emphasized his forever childishness which worked with plot and character.

All hail the Caesar!
Photo credit: Voce di Meche

And so yes, Handel’s Agrippina is a farce masquerading as semi-serious opera. With its tidy conclusion, it is a comedy of sorts. Some have even called it an antiheroic satirical comedy for its reported commentary on court intrigues of the time, most of which is lost on us now, as is the goofy way that certain moments of operas like this one inevitably play out. While so much of the music is so visceral, so grave and so serious, many story elements and several plot points don’t really rise to the gravitas of the occasion to match.

Agrippina (right) deploys her powers
Photo credit: Hiroyuki Ito

The story hinges on a series of lies, with intersecting plots carried out secretly. Everybody is tricking everybody else at one point. Much like the count in Le nozze di Figaro, the emperor Claudius has designs to cheat on his wife Agrippina with the loveliest lady-in-waiting, Poppea, who is in turn desired by both Ottone and Nerone. In order to get the emperor to regain his focus, Poppea, Agrippina and just about everybody else all choreograph their own overlapping plots and schemes to achieve their various desired outcomes. The shakedown and its accompanying recognition scene only come late and it culminates in a happy ending with divine reconciliation piled on heavy.

All is well that ends well, except for the fact that Louisa Proske and her team decided to saturate the scene with a quick final flash of blood red light once Nerone grabs the scepter of power in the end, foreboding of what’s to come under the emperor’s dangerously childish rule. And perhaps that was the moment where the political satire made itself felt for audiences today – an extra flourish added by the production team that portends terrible things when the emperor is little more than a man-child.

– Lei & Lui

Court intrigue is the order of the day
Photo credit: Hiroyuki Ito

Looking for Wolfie in Outer Space

Heartbeat Opera Drag Benefit

Queens of the Night: Mozart in Space

National Sawdust, Williamsburg

October 31, 2016

Queens of the Night
Photo credit: Russ Rowland

On Halloween night, Heartbeat Opera held its annual drag extravaganza benefit, an event traditionally used by this young company both as a fundraiser and a “gateway drug” to introduce young opera virgins to the artform. While this is a noble cause, I was concerned that Wolfie may get too dumbed down in this format. I should not have worried, because we were in for a delicious surprise: the whole show was a sparkly, absurd, irreverent, playful pastiche but also grounded by a very clever setting and concept.

Ready for lift off. Heartbeat gonna take you higher!
Photo credit: Jill Steinberg

National Sawdust looks like a spaceship so why not set the show as a futuristic quest for Mozart in outer space? Constanze Mozart’s voiceover narrates the action by interacting with “Robot” (dancer and choreographer Emma Crane Jaster). As we “take off,” the ensemble (donning wigs, sparkly outfits, extreme makeup and high heels irrespective of gender) played the explosive and boiling overture from Così fan tutte, while Robot very cutely and slowly moved back and forth to simulate space movement. And of course the musicians were led by Captain Ashworth and Captain Schlosberg (the brilliant co-music directors of Heartbeat Opera, in tails and sequins, respectively).

The parade of planets
Photo credit: Russ Rowland

Once we were in outer space, a series of aliens and other odd characters in some futuristic space gear make their entrance. First up, an astronaut in an all-silver outfit (baritone Taylor Ward), singing Papageno's introductory aria from Die Zauberflote, waves an old school phone with a curly-cue cord as he scans extraterrestrial life (with digital sounds courtesy of pianist Dan Schlosberg) instead of the traditional “flute” in the score.

Robot and Papageno look for the cosmic creative spirit
Photo credit: Russ Rowland

He is then followed by a very angry creature sporting a colorful mohawk, a geometric black and white bodysuit caged in a wire corset and a healthy dose of raging vengeance (mezzo Kristin Gornstein). She is an upset Donna Anna and of course is singing Ah, chi mi dici mai (with the astronaut playing both the Don and Leporello).

Kristin Gornstein
Photo credit: Russ Rowland

Two mellower lady aliens enter next (sopranos Jamilyn Manning-White and Marie Marquis), arms linked like Siamese twins and sinuously moving around while they deliver Nozze’s Canzonetta sull’aria, with ethereal and enchanting effects, so much that the Constanze voice observes, “That was beautiful, we must be very close [to Wolfie].” The four aliens then engage in a lovely ensemble rendition of Così’s Soave sia il vento all while gracefully carrying around sparkly balloons (representing planets?).

The journey continues as we are introduced to yet more characters. We’re back in Zauberflote land when a very muscular yet lurex-dress donning Pamino (tenor Jordan Weatherstone Pitts) is chased by a spectacular and scary Drag-ooon (get it?) and then poked and prodded at by the three petulant lady aliens (and a deadpan-faced Robot). The ensuing vignette was a hilarious Papageno-Papagena duet between the astronaut and one of the alien ladies, who engage in some sort of strange sexual interaction that climaxes with the joining of elbows (instead of the traditional bird-like groping). Welcome to outer space!

The elbow sex is fantastic
Photo credit: Russ Rowland

Next, in a stroke of genius, the cross-dressed Pamino delivers a Non so piu cosa son, cosa faccio in his regular tenor voice. By having a man dressed like a woman sing with a tenor voice this aria that is traditionally sung by a woman dressed like a man with a mezzo voice, Heartbeat embodied the extravagant and irreverent spirit of opera (and of drag shows) in the most subtle yet effective of ways.

A space-age Queen of the Night then makes a dramatic entrance with her Dragoon creature and breaks havoc delivering her showstopper Der Hölle Rache, effectively knocking out all of the characters on stage and inducing wild cheers from the public.

To me, however, the revelation of the evening, the moment when time truly stopped was what followed the Königin der Nacht. The stage was dark, all the characters had passed out on the floor due to intergalactic interference, and some indistinct static music erupted from the orchestra. Suddenly, an alien holding a sax (Michaël Attias) slowly walks in and the music morphs into Mozart’s Requiem, while the alien starts playing a jazz rendition of the Lacrymosa movement. Using an alto sax in place of the original chorus voices was the happiest of choices, with a delivery that was surprisingly intimate, expressive and utterly moving.

Requiem for an alien
Photo credit: Russ Rowland

This is what Heartbeat does best, making you think about classics from a different and most visceral angle, even in the midst of a playful drag show. Also, pairing Wolfie with jazz is not as absurd as it may sound, as the composer was known for his improvisational skills, and isn’t jazz all about Mozartian riffing? I found the Lacrymosa choice particularly meaningful within the evening’s plot of looking for Mozart in space, since this is one of the Requiem parts that was left incomplete.

After such a magnificent moment, it seemed like the team ran out of Mozart juices as the show shifted inexplicably to a lip-sync rendition of  Puccini’s Nessun Dorma by the Dragoon (Taurean Everett) channeling Aretha Franklin. Which was spectacular, yes, but had little to do with the rest of the narrative. The evening then quickly wrapped up with some nice remarks about Wolfie’s genius being based on love and Mozart’s particles fluctuating all around us.

The show was a heartfelt homage to Wolfie with a dash of irreverence, yes, but also freshness, fun and musical as well as theatrical competence. In a way, I enjoyed far more this drag version of Mozart’s greatest hits than the star-studded but uninspired Illuminated Heart show at Mostly Mozart back in August. Heartbeat confirmed once again its knack for distilling opera to its joyous and visceral essence, and we cannot wait to see their take on Butterfly and Carmen later in the Spring.  

– Lei & Lui

Cherubino gets more than a make over
Photo credit: Russ Rowland

Dragoon channels the Queen of Soul
Photo credit: Russ Rowland

The fundraiser: a call for money
Photo credit: Russ Rowland