Fund-raising can be fun, that’s one lesson to take from Friday & Saturday nights at the Redwood Theatre. The funds were for BOP, the Benevolence Opera Project, supporting the YWCA on this occasion.
Friday was Carmen, aka Fast Times in Seville. The story is reframed as a sort of television singing contest, in Holly Chaplin’s original adaptation. The concept isn’t that far from Bizet’s original when we recall that Carmen and Escamillo are already actual performers singing to onstage audiences.
We also meet Don Jose, who is a producer on the show, romancing Micaela.
The audience at the Redwood were treated as though we were a tv studio audience, encouraged to applaud for the competitors in the show-within-an-opera. Our host was identified as Ryan He-Crest, played by our BOP producer Ryan Hofman. Encouraged isn’t a strong enough word. The audience was participating in the show throughout, even if there was no bullfight.
Just a lot of bull….Which is welcome.
I noticed that I came away from Holly’s modernized Carmen a lot less troubled than usual, taken more to the fun realm of narcissistic performers (Carmen & Escamillo at least) without drowning in the heart-break of Jose & Micaela.
The challenging quintet was every bit as beautiful as usual starring pianist Brahm Goldhamer.
We still get the scene with the cards predicting Carmen’s death, and the final duet when Jose stabs Carmen, juxtaposed against a stage full of shenanigans comparable to the offstage bullfight we usually get, taking the tone of the last act even further towards a celebration of narcissists without remorse. Does anyone care that Jose has killed Carmen? Her death usually upsets me more, but in our modern world we focus on the ones in the spotlight, in this case Escamillo.
In passing I must mention Adam Luther, showing us what good technique really sounds like. In the space of 24 hours he sang two very different roles, Jose calling for more of a spinto sound than the one he’d give us Saturday, but with a huge number of high notes. Speaking as a tenor (admittedly one who never quit his dayjob) the thought of what Adam was undertaking had me on the edge of my seat: although clearly he knew what he was doing.
The tone for Saturday’s Rigoletto was decidedly different. Again we had a modern adaptation, this time the title was Cursed in Mantua.
Without the audience participation element we were in a more traditionally operatic setting even with the modernized setting, the tale darkly tragic with a few comical sprinkles on top.
I think I may have been too eager for fun times (recalling our fun Friday) at the Saturday Rigoletto, when –as it was observed between our table that Monterone’s undershirted presence resembled Ronny Camereri (Nicholas Cage) in Moonstruck, and I said “Chrissy bring me the big knife!” Maybe I was too intent on having fun, given that Rigoletto is only fun if you’re the Duke, not so much for the fathers such as Monterone or Rigoletto. But speaking of the Duke, Adam handled the high notes brilliantly. After all he wasn’t singing with orchestra or in a huge venue, so he was able to sing lightly, floating many of his high notes rather than belting anything.
I’ve probably spent too much time playing the male parts in these operas, either accompanying my brother even as recently as this past summer in “Cortigiani” or “pari siamo”, the two big arias from this opera, or squawking my way through the tenor’s music myself. I sat there delighting in the delicacy with which Andrew Tees sang the softer parts of his role. The phrase “quel vecchio maledivami” (in other words “that old man cursed me”), that could be Rigoletto’s mantra was given a breath-takingly soft interpretation. He’s talking to himself! It makes so much sense to sing it so softly, and then to emerge into something a bit louder, for instance in that wonderful duet with Sparafucile (one of my favourite scenes of the opera), sung by Luke Noftall.
And then we have the duet between Rigoletto and his daughter Gilda, as director & adaptor Holly Chaplin started singing, on a day when she had already sung in an Opera in Concert event. As with my worries about Adam, I have to think that the ability to sing so much without apparent distress surely is a sign of amazing technique. Gilda (Holly) was delighted that daddy Rigoletto brought her a gift, namely a Twister game to play, and she played a bit with Giovanna(Anjelique Croteau), as part of the duet. Holly played Gilda as very innocent & young, such that she’s vulnerable to the lies of a clever seducer like the Duke, when he appears suddenly in her room, with Giovanna’s help.
After her romantic encounter, when Duke (Adam) dashes away, Holly sang the most impressive “caro nome” I have ever heard. I wonder, is it because she was so busy directing & adapting, having sung this afternoon at another concert that she just got up there, relaxed, nothing to prove, while having a good time with the music and the dramatic situation? I don’t usually believe Gilda in this aria, a series of coloratura phrases as a kind of recollection or romantic speculation: but this time I was stunned by the sense of a young woman making sense of these new feelings. There’s no substitute for hearing a voice this way up close, holding nothing back. It was not just singing but persuasive acting.
The modernized story works well enough, at least as a framework for the singing of familiar music in a well-known story. I really enjoyed the scenes with Maddalena (Anjelique Croteau) bringing out the whorish side of the Duke, pleading with her brother to substitute someone else, while Sparafucile always makes me laugh out loud. Sure he’s a killer but he never betrays a client. That melodramatic scene where brother & sister make plans while Gilda listens in makes for amazing singing, even as the outcome drives me a bit nuts. I found myself wishing as usual for a different outcome, swept up in the passion of Rigoletto’s “si, vendetta” and irritated as usual when Rigoletto hears the Duke singing offstage when he’s supposed to be dead, and darkly wondering just who is in the bag from Sparafucile. And while I’ve heard tales of hunchback jesters in past decades carrying the big soprano in that bag, this was perhaps the first time I’ve seen a Rigoletto in Andrew, strong enough to easily handle the job. But Holly (as director) let him off the hook by having him discover the body bag on the ground rather than making him lug the body around the stage.
I’m including this last photo because it’s our only glimpse of our music director / pianist for the Verdi namely Narmina Efandiyeva, excellent playing and keeping the ensemble together throughout.
I admire ambition even as I wondered if Ryan and Holly had taken on too much, undertaking two different adaptations on consecutive nights. I write this on Sunday when I’m guessing they’ll catch up on the sleep they haven’t had over nights of last minute preparation & rehearsals.
As much as I loved the two shows I find myself often worrying about the future of opera, or more to the point, the future of the people I know who are trying to make a career in the medium. The meme below may seem a bit over the top (i could have just written the words in the blog after all), but it’s a genuine concern, which is why I included it. In this time of elbows up, aiming to support local vendors & businesses, we must support our local artists.
BOP is the Benevolence Opera Project, who will be back in the New Year with one of the following four operas (they haven’t decided yet): Tosca, Elixir of Love, Madama Butterfly or Barber of Seville. When I hear more I will probably write about it.
People see the fame, the reviews, the beautiful photos, the applause, what they don’t see is the tears, the sweat, the panic attacks at 3am. I wake up daily thinking “is this what I really want to do?” But then when I take 2-3 weeks off I’m like “I’m bored! I want to sing again! I want to be on stage again!” It’s weird, it’s like… a drug and I’m definitely hooked! I meet wonderful people on this job. Some of them go on to become my chosen family. My community. But they’re scattered on all corners of the planet. That is also difficult. Since I’ve been doing this, I don’t feel a feeling of belonging to one place in particular. It is such a strange feeling. But I am still not willing to give it away just for now. I still have things to discover with music, opera, live performance, and myself.
