Fireworks Get Visceral in Rossini's Otello

Rossini’s Otello

LoftOpera

Lightspace Studios, Brooklyn

March 25, 2017

Rossini fireworks with feeling
Photo credit: Robert Altman

When we discovered Rossini’s Otello at La Scala a couple of years ago, we came out pretty exhilarated by all that testosterone in its bel canto form (we were lucky to get the stellar Kunde-Florez tenor duo), but were not particularly moved by the Desdemona character (Peretyatko) nor by the overall opera per se. At the time we were still believers that Rossini usually has a dazzling effect, yes, but his operas are hardly ever truly emotionally gut-wrenching.

LoftOpera’s production of this same work changed my mind forever about Rossini’s soul-stirring powers. By the time the performance was over on Saturday night, I was an emotional wreck, weeping inconsolably. I came out of the venue pretty distraught after crying for good part of Act III. This time, in addition to the expected bel canto vocal fireworks, visceral dramatic tension built up throughout the performance, and really exploded in the last act, culminating in the chilling finale.   

Explosive drama comes home in Rossini's Otello
Photo credit: Robert Altman

Even in the improbable hands of the tuneful Rossini, this particular performance delivered the inevitability of Shakespearean tragedy with a force that knocked me off my feet and left me feeling desperately sorry for the characters who were unable to save themselves. This type of cathartic and deeply human experience is the ultimate reason why we go to the opera.

Rossini’s version of Il Moro di Venezia is very rarely performed. Having been eclipsed by Verdi’s take on the same material, it is also very difficult to line up a cast capable of tackling it. The opera requires really at least three solid bel canto lyric tenors, one agile bass and one extraordinary soprano. Being so rare, it is also hard to find singers who know it. The cast lined up by LoftOpera was impressive, strong throughout and with unbelievable peaks (Desdemona, Otello and Iago). Remarkably, this performance was a terrific role debut for everybody on stage. In addition to inhabiting their characters masterfully and tackling the difficult bel canto score, all of the singers displayed excellent Italian diction, so much that I did not have to look at supertitles at all – virtually unheard of with non-native speakers.

Iago oversees the battle of the tenors
Photo credit: Siobahn Sung

One of my favorite features of this opera is the over-abundance of tenors constantly battling and out-singing each other, in a display of bel canto manliness that can be a true treat. Bernard Holcomb was an excellent Otello, with clean musicality and effortless high notes. The title role is a particularly demanding one and Holcomb effectively displayed the ample range of colors and emotions required, from triumphant heroism to belligerent jealousy, from defeated heartbreak to defiant resolution and destructive desperation. Holcomb’s tenor is strong and manly but also has a graceful freshness, a purity even, that brought Otello’s vulnerability, innocence and ultimate humanity to the fore.

Blake Friedman was a sensational Iago, with a fluid, warm and beautiful sound, which made his innate evilness all the more treacherous. His acting, though, left absolutely no doubt about his character being the villain and mastermind pulling all the strings to trigger the drama. He was a real smooth operator with his blond hair slicked back and his three piece suit and ascot always looking the part. Apparently channeling Steve Bannon, Friedman carried himself with deliberately slow and calculated movements, which he endowed with a sardonic, unctuous mellifluousness. His stage presence was so commanding that it was impossible to take your eyes off him every time he was on. Vocally, one of his most memorable moments was the duet with Otello in Act II (L’ira d’avverso fato), one of those delicious and exhilarating battles of tenors that make this opera so enjoyable.

Rodrigo seizes his slimy opportunity
Photo credit: Robert Altman

As Rodrigo, Thor Arbjornsson delivered a solid and competent performance. His tenor is very high, but with nasal and metallic undertones, that gave an interesting spin to his character, almost snarly at times (which is at odds with the nature of his music but works with the character, especially since he effectively plots with Iago against Otello). Arbjornsson does not have a big or particularly swooning voice, but the intimate venue worked in his favor and his technique was spot on as he tackled the most show stopping and challenging arias in the whole opera. He was at his best in the pleading Ah come mai non senti / pietà dei miei tormenti, and his thrilling duet with Otello, Ah vieni nel tuo sangue.  

Last but not least in the tenor roster, John Ramseyer was an unbelievable gondolier - a minor but important character who sings for probably two minutes tops. When he appeared in a ghostly Venetian mask and delivered his canzone, he had a lyrical gravitas that exuded longing and nostalgia, with a heartbreaking depth that left the audience gasping (and this writer crying). It was one of those magical moments when time stopped as Act III switched to a more intimate and reflective mood. Nessun maggior dolore / che ricordarsi del tempo felice nella miseria (there’s no greater pain / than remembering happy times during miserable ones). The verses are lifted verbatim from the tale of the doomed lovers Paolo and Francesca in Dante’s Inferno and, as used by Rossini, trigger Desdemona’s ultimate descent into the darker, lonelier side of the opera.

The tenors triangulate around one object: Desdemona
Photo credit: Robert Altman

All of the tenors were impressive, but with them alone Otello is just another Rossinian display of bel canto fireworks. The singer who truly stole the show, becoming the beating, emotional heart of the opera was Cecilia Violetta Lopez. Hers is a beautiful, warm soprano that mastered Desdemona’s demanding and multi-layered bel canto role, carrying every duet, trio and ensemble piece with effortless grace, lyric power and agility. She absolutely owned her show-stopping solo arias, particularly the tumultuous mad scene in Act II and the Canzone del salice in Act III, when her heartache was so palpable that it was impossible to hold back tears.

Forever faithfully the wife of Otello
Photo credit: Robert Altman

Her performance was so convincing that she did not simply portray Desdemona, she was Desdemona. Lopez’s heroine is not a wishy-washy limp little victim (as was the case with Peretyatko at La Scala), but rather a fierce woman who knows who she loves and will not go down without a fight. In the Act I finale, when all hell breaks loose because it is discovered that she and Otello have already eloped, she is defiant about it (Giurai! – I swore myself to him!), even when her father throws her on the floor cursing her. When the plot thickens (i.e., Iago orchestrates the Rodrigo/Otello rivalry) and she needs to deal with Rodrigo’s amorous advances, she slaps him (right after his climactic high C) and storms away. It was really something.

Uccidimi se vuoi!
Photo credit: LoftOpera

During her mad scene, fearing for Otello’s life, her love for him explodes from out of the words, music and her singing. She was so distressed that her hands were visibly shaking and she threw herself against the wall. She brought this passage of the score forcefully to life, lending deep meaning to her madness. In the final confrontation with Otello, Desdemona’s desperation reaches yet a new high, as she dares him to kill her, fiery and passionate until the end, with an intensity that did justice to the powerful libretto (Uccidimi se vuoi, perfido! Ingrato! – Non arrestare il colpo / vibralo a questo core / sfoga il tuo reo furore / intrepida morrò).*

Cecilia Violetta Lopez is an exciting singing actress. She delivered one of the most sensational and explosive performances I’ve ever seen live. We were very lucky to have caught her in such an intimate setting while LoftOpera still can afford her. Ms. Lopez seems to have what it takes to hit international operatic stardom very soon.

 

The excellent cast was completed by bass baritone Isaiah Musik-Ayala, as Desdemona’s father Elmiro, and mezzo Toby Newman, as her confidante Emilia. Musik-Ayala pulled off a mature Marcello Mastroianni look (Fellini references abounded) and was particularly memorable as a grounding force in the various ensemble pieces, as well as a nasty fatherly figure, brutalizing poor Desdemona at every turn.

Fellini's Le notti di Cabiria greets you
Photo credit: Caterina De Bianchi

The production concept of stage director John de los Santos moves the action to the 1950s, the economic boom in post-war Italy known as the “miracolo italiano.” A silent screening of Fellini’s Le Notti di Cabiria before the show helped frame the cultural period, and costumes and stage props had a glamorous 1950s look. This directorial take worked most of the time. While it did not detract from the content of the story, it did not add much either. All in all, it made great use of the intimate space and had some clever touches.

One interesting idea was to have a little vignette immediately before the overture, where Desdemona tenderly kisses Otello goodbye in her bedroom and the two say to each other, mi serba intatta la fè (be faithful to me). This is a line Otello will later say as an aside to his beloved in the group scene at the end of Act I, when chaos ensues after he reveals that he and Desdemona are already secretly married. While this little prelude is not part of the original libretto, it does help frame the backstory that Otello and Desdemona were genuinely in love and expressed serious vows of faithfulness to each other. The strength of their love is otherwise not so directly displayed in the rest of the opera. They spend their time fighting everybody who wants to draw them apart (as well each other’s demons) so the addition was a lovely touch.

This is rare, difficult material – it takes guts, passion and mastery to pull it off. The bel canto expertise, dedication and leadership of music director and conductor Sean Kelly shone through every detail (casting, conducting, Italian and musical coaching, balance between orchestra and singers). In the hands of maestro Kelly, Rossini is not only entertaining vocal gymnastics but also true, colorful emotional expression. So alive and mind-blowing.

Maestro Sean Kelly at the helm
Photo credit: Robert Altman

In the past we’ve harped on and on about how the genius of this company lies in the way they bring raw operatic experiences to unconventional venues that appeal to the under-30 crowd. This time it felt a little different. The venue was less of a cavernous industrial space and more of an intimate photo studio with a hip art gallery feel to it, and the crowd was a bit more grown up and sophisticated than at other shows. Still, the evening kept the magic of going to the middle of nowhere, looking for the O P E R A sign and entering into a parallel universe populated by 300-odd people eager to sit through (and go wild for) an epic performance of a rare Rossini opera.

All six performance dates sold out pretty quickly and I’m sure that if they had extended the run they would have had no problem whatsoever filling those seats. As always, there is something that feels awfully right about what LoftOpera does to the art form, with the perfect balance between artistic excellence and unassuming cool. Next up, a baroque medley of Pergolesi and Vivaldi in June.

– Lei & Lui

* Kill me if you wish, evil one! Traitor! - Don’t hold back / Strike me in the heart / Unleash your wicked fury / Fearless, I will die.

LoftOpera vibes all around
Photo credit: LoftOpera

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

An Irresistibly Racy Rossini at the Circus

Rossini’s Le Comte Ory

LoftOpera

The Muse, Bushwick

June 11, 2016

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.  

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.

Various seduction plots collide in threesome
Photo credit: Robert Altman

LoftOpera has been wildly successful in bringing twenty-somethings to attend opera as if it was the next hot thing in Brooklyn. Other times I’ve been to their shows the crowd was much younger and hipper than the usual geriatric opera buffs we usually see at virtually any other evening at the opera. This time, though, things were different. The public’s demographic was far more across the board. LoftOpera is not becoming mainstream by any stretch, but there were definitely more over 30 (and over 60 – granted some with pink hair and green beards but still) than usual. The more conventional (as opposed to word of mouth loft parties) channel of raving reviews from the music critics of the New York Times, The Observer and the like seems to be broadening LoftOpera’s base. Interestingly, instead of attracting more young people to sit through an opera (which is what this company does best) the effect was to lure more old people to see a show in the very non-traditional setting of a raw loft in Bushwick. No matter how you look at it, LoftOpera continues to deliver a raging victory for the art form. Next up is Mozart’s Così fan tutte in September, and they better book a bigger venue and/or line up more dates because at this rate the crowds will keep growing.

– Lei & Lui

The various stages of pursuit
Photo credit: Robert Altman

The mystic hermit lures his prey
Photo credit: Robert Altman

Raucous "nuns" dance the cancan
Photo credit: Robert Altman