The Long Beach SO Celebrates Its 90th Birthday In Style

l-r: Roger Wilkie (concertmaster), Chloé Tardif (principal second violin), Eckart Preu (Music Director), Andrew Duckles (principal viola), and Cécilia Tsan (principal cello), after their performance of Anna Clyne’s Quarter Days for string quartet and orchestra.

REVIEW

Long Beach Symphony, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach

DAVID J BROWN

The Long Beach Symphony Orchestra is making a very big deal of this being its 90th anniversary season, and so it should. For any performing body devoted to large-scale “classical” music to survive that long in a country which, unlike much of mainland Europe, does not by and large regard government support for the arts as vital, is an achievement indeed. And that’s not counting the last 90 years’ socio-political upheavals.

Though the present LBSO survived World War 2, the 2008 Great Recession, and the Covid pandemic, its predecessor in Long Beach succumbed to the Great Depression of 1929. However—and characteristic of the USA—it was individual enthusiasm, expertise, and funding that pulled together a new orchestra for the city, and on February 16, 1935, the then Long Beach Philharmonic (“Philharmonic” was replaced by “Symphony” in the name after WW2) gave its first concert under the baton of Fort MacArthur band-master Robert Resta (1891-1979), who after his departure in 1955 was named Founder Conductor of the orchestra.

Robert Resta.

That first concert mustered an impressive 87 players (extra strings, or doubled woodwind, one wonders?) and its program was a marvelously heterogeneous mix of short pieces by no fewer than 11 composers, from Max Reger to Johann Strauss. It opened with Beethoven’s Overture to Egmont, Op. 84, and without implying any shade on those intrepid pioneers under Maestro Resta, I wonder whether their performance could possibly have surpassed that from today’s orchestra on the first Saturday in October under his successor and LBSO’s sixth Music Director, Eckart Preu, played as a deliberate callback to that inaugural performance.

In his pre-concert talk Preu had sketched in the background: Goethe’s 1787 play Egmont that dramatized the life, fight against injustice, and death of the titular hero; Beethoven’s reverence for the great writer and eagerness to compose incidental music for the play’s revival in Vienna in 1809; the correspondence and single meeting in 1812 of the two German creative giants; and how vividly Beethoven’s overture encapsulates the essence of Goethe’s drama.

Beethoven and Goethe taking a walk in the German spa town
Teplitz, July 1812: etching by Ernst Pickardt (1876-1931).

This was faithfully bodied forth in the performance, from the LBSO strings’ trenchant attack on the opening motif and the plaintive eloquence of the winds’ response, through the unhurried but sweepingly intense and coherent account of the main body of the piece, leading to the martyrdom of Egmont (as vivid a musical coup de grâce as that of Strauss’s Till Eulenspiegel), and then the final triumph, with the piccolo shrilling at the top of its lungs above the tumult. It was an auspicious start indeed to this celebratory concert.

Maestro Preu’s programming as Music Director has maintained a judicious balance between the familiar and the new, and the evening’s concerto was certainly of the latter. This was the third time he has included a piece by Anna Clyne (b. 1980), following his inclusion of her string piece Within Her Arms in the 2017 Veterans Day concert and the cello+orchestra DANCE in February 2022 (reviewed here and here).

Anna Clyne.

She describes her Quarter Days for string quartet and orchestra as “a reflection on the passing of time – both within a minute, a day, through the seasons and within a lifetime,” with specific inspiration drawn from the initial 10 lines of Burnt Norton, the first of the four long poems that comprise T. S. Eliot’s Four Quartets. “Quarter days” is a British term that approximates to the autumn and spring equinoxes and winter and summer solstices, and thus Clyne’s four movements amount to a “four seasons”—which at around 22 minutes she gets through in less time than either Piazzolla or Vivaldi, not to mention the evening-long splendor of Haydn’s oratorio The Seasons or Raff's quartet of Symphonies 8-11.

The string quartet for this performance were four of the LBSO’s own stars: Roger Wilkie (concertmaster), and section principals Chloé Tardif (second violin), Andrew Duckles (viola), and Cécilia Tsan (cello), playing with all the skill and commitment one would expect, whether in solo passages, duetting, or collectively. As for the work itself, it raised the interesting question of how unmistakably representational can music be if you don’t know in advance what it’s supposed to be representing.

Roger Wilkie, Chloé Tardif, Andrew Duckles, Cécilia Tsan.

In this case, the opening movement’s easeful harvest-home character seemed appropriate to autumn, while its successor had a somewhat chillier feel, with a stepwise motif on low horns that slightly brought to mind the Bydlo movement from Mussorgsky’s Pictures in Ravel’s orchestration.

If winter was the work’s “slow movement,” then spring was its scherzo, with skittering, April-showery textures and a contrasting “trio” section. Summer, with nothing of Vivaldi’s heat exhaustion, led off with insistent pulsing akin to Bernard Herrmann’s title music for Hitchcock’s North by Northwest, against which Mr. Wilkie spun an eloquent high-lying violin melody.

Quarter Days was certainly easy on the ear, but no more than any other of Clyne’s work I’ve heard did it clarify why she should have become one of the most-performed living British composers (heaven forfend that it’s for any reason other than pure musical worth). But on the other hand it didn’t prompt the “Thank goodness that’s over / I never want to hear that again” response that some new music (and to be fair, some old too) generates.

Antonin Dvořák with pigeons.

After the interval, the crowd-pleasing blockbuster was Dvořák’s Symphony No. 9 in E minor “From the New World” Op. 95 B. 178, a self-confessed favorite of Maestro Preu. in his pre-concert talk he vividly conjured up the composer’s 1892-1895 tenure as Director of the recently established National Conservatory of Music of America in New York: eagerly absorbing African-American musical influences, obsessively train-spotting with a fellow enthusiast, feeding pigeons in Central Park, and of course, composing his most famous symphony as well as other works.

Adam Richardson sings Goin' Home.

Before the "New World," however, there was a kind of “trailer,” the arrangement made in 1922 by William Arms Fisher (1861-1948), one of Dvořák’s Conservatory students, of the famous English horn melody from the symphony’s Largo. With Fisher’s own words added, this became Goin’ Home, sung here with restrained but heartfelt sonority by the baritone Adam Richardson and rapturously received by the audience.

As for the symphony itself, the performance was as vibrantly fresh as if it was a welcome new discovery for all concerned, rather than one of the most familiar of repertoire works. If not up to Dvořák’s very fleet metronome mark of eighth note = 126, the first movement’s Adagio introduction moved purposefully forward rather than being the dreamy wallow some performances deliver, and the unison horns’ immaculate opening to the main Allegro molto, as bold and bright as it was observant of the dynamic markings, confirmed earlier indications that they were having a very good night.

The “New World” was Dvořák’s only symphony after the Sixth in which he marked the first movement exposition to be repeated, but though he includes four first-time lead-back measures, its observation often does deliver a jolt, and in an interpretation as dynamic and forward-thrusting as Preu’s, going “back to the beginning” would have felt wrong. The Largo was no more a wallow than that first movement introduction had been, with Joseph Stone’s delivery of the English horn solo more plaintive than nostalgically romantic, and the whole orchestra delivering beautifully aerated textures throughout.

In keeping with the interpretation as a whole, the Scherzo was crisp and clean, and though Dvořák does not mark the Finale to follow attacca, Preu’s doing so not only avoided annoying inter-movement applause but, more importantly, maintained and tightened the already-present tension by observing to the full the Finale's marking of Allegro con fuoco.

Driven thus, the movement was convulsively dramatic, even sounding something of a cri de cœur, with the whole orchestra individually and collectively at the top of its game. Coming it at just under 40 minutes, this performance of the "New World" was the perfect antidote to any prior thoughts of “not that old warhorse again?” and was duly cheered to the rafters by the near-capacity audience.

With the orchestra clearly in such fine shape, and the news this week that it has received the largest grant in its 90-year history, let’s hope that Long Beach music-lovers not yet born will celebrate another 90 years' success in 2114, and of course, other anniversaries in between. Meanwhile the next concert of the current celebratory year, highlighting this time American music of the 20th and 21st centuries, can be enjoyed on November 9.

Kelly Ruggirello, LBSO President, talks to audience members at the post-concert champagne reception in the Terrace Theater foyer.

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Long Beach Symphony Orchestra, Terrace Theater, Beverly O'Neill Performing Arts Center, Long Beach, Saturday, October 5, 2024, 7.30 p.m.

Images: The performance: Todd Mason (top) and Caught in the Moment Photography; Robert Resta and string soloists: courtesy Long Beach Symphony; Beethoven and Goethe: Wiener Antiquariat; Anna Clyne: Christina Kernohan; Dvořák: Wikimedia Commons.

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Tianyi Lu Unfurls Drama with Seattle Symphony

Tianyi Lu

The combination of Ravel and Tchaikovsky on the same program is a luxurious feast for any classical music lover. The Seattle Symphony treated a fervent Benaroya Hall audience to these delights on Sat., September 28, when conductor Tianyi Lu gave dramatic renderings of two major familiar works and another lesser-known piece that fit in perfectly with the atmosphere of the evening. 

As a First Prize winner in the 2020 Sir Georg Solti Conducting Competition, Chinese born New Zealander Tianyi Lu often has been recognized as a high energy performer putting an innovative spin on the symphony repertoire. Her reputation led to high expectations, and she delivered that and more on the podium. 

There is nothing lacking in Lu’s conducting. She is a major talent, a complete conductor in every sense. Watching her command of the orchestra, both gentle and forceful, was a pleasure. Her gestures were consistent, yet beautifully varied and nuanced. Her energy level was astonishing, and built to a frenzy by the end of the evening. The orchestra in turn responded with commensurate vitality and drive. 

Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho’s Ciel d'hiver (Winter Sky) is an arrangement of the second movement of her Orion (2002), commissioned for the Théâtre du Châtelet in Paris and premiered in 2014. The piece was appealing, with plenty of atmosphere: a landscape from which to meditate on the forces of nature and the music of the spheres as they sweep through the starry night.

In her interpretation, Lu showed a deep commitment to bringing out the contemplative ambience of the work and its wintry elements: glistening drops of rain, harsh wind, and thunder. With an eerie opening, handsomely played by the piccolo, solo violin and strings, the stage was set for a chilly adventure that ultimately morphed into dissonance. Lu maintained the continuous flow needed to generate convincing coherence and bring the piece to a gentle close. Her gestures were precise, yet seemed to float on the air like the shimmering effects of the harp.

Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G, with its flash and wit, provided a huge contrast to the introspective Wintry Sky. Award winning pianist Alexandra Dariescu gave a performance that shone brightly: with panache, incisiveness and stylishness.

Dariescu, a child prodigy in her native Romania who emigrated to the UK as a teenager, was the first female Romanian pianist to perform at London’s Royal Albert Hall. She is also an educator, mentor and producer, known for groundbreaking innovation and such creative multimedia works as The Nutcracker and I. Her wide repertoire includes that of women composers Florence Price and Clara Schumann.

Alexandra Dariescu

The pianist’s interpretation of the Ravel ranged from meticulous with an astonishingly delicate touch and great sensitivity, to technically showy and dramatic. She made the most of the contrasts between the sensational first and third movements and the wistful second movement. By the end of the technically challenging third movement, Dariescu had the audience demanding an encore. She complied with élan by performing Clara Schumann’s charming, dreamy Romanze in A-flat major, the second movement of the composer’s Piano Concerto. Dairescu’s performance was exquisite and mesmerizing, and appreciably enhanced by the gorgeously played solo cello obligato of principal cellist Efe Baltacıgil.

Tchaikovsky described his monumental Fourth Symphony as a battle with the inevitable forces of Fate and a reflection of Beethoven’s Fifth. From the opening declaration of the Fate motif in the Andante sostenuto of the first movement to the driving inexorable energy of the fourth movement, Finale: Allegro con fuoco, the work provides repeated opportunities for a conductor to shine.

Lu seized every moment with great attention to detail, generating energetic, impressive playing from each section of the orchestra that increased multifold as the piece progressed. The second movement, Andantino in modo di canzona, created a magical atmosphere, the oboe solo tastefully played. The brass, which was not quite up to its usual standard in the Ravel, came through with bold, attention-grabbing playing throughout the Tchaikovsky.

The concert ended with a finale that effectively blew off the roof of the hall: dynamic, powerful, and filled with Lu’s inspiring energy and force. The performance was, in a word, superb.

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Benaroya Hall, Saturday, Sept. 28, 2024, 8:00 p.m.

Images: Ben VanHouten

Music Of Deep Feeling Thrills Big Mount Wilson Crowd

Ambroise Aubrun (violin), Kate Hamilton (viola), and Allan Hon and Cécilia Tsan (cellos), play Arensky's String Quartet No. 2 in the 100-inch Telescope Dome at Mount Wilson Observatory. 

REVIEW

"Strings Attached!" Mount Wilson Observatory

JOHN STODDER

What a success Artistic Director Cécilia Tsan is having with the Mount Wilson Observatory’s “Sunday Afternoon Concerts in the Dome.” The September program, “Strings Attached!,” comprising works by Franz Schubert, Todd Mason, and Anton Arensky, and performed by four superb musicians including herself, was an uncompromising artistic treat that drew a sold-out audience to the great telescope dome. A rollicking crowd, larger than any I’ve seen in this building, occupied all the seats arrayed to each side of the small raised stage, filling almost half of the "Life Savers"-shaped mezzanine that surrounds the blue "Erector Set"-like mounting for the Hooker telescope towering in the center.

They were a perfect audience for what Tsan and Mount Wilson had to offer:

• Virtuoso string performances reverberating through the 100-inch Telescope Dome’s magical acoustics; 

• Three compositions that shared similar qualities—emotional richness, musical intricacy, stirring moments;

• A 360-degree spin inside the Observatory on its rotating floor; 

• Then, for those who lingered after the music ended, another 360-degree spin around the Observatory, this time in the dark, to experience an “immersive video work” by Rebeca Méndez.

An outdoor wine reception (above) in 95-degree heat between the two performances of the same program also enhanced the mood, making this not just a great concert but a good time had by all, a summer jam for an arts crowd.

Schubert at the piano, as visioned
by Gustav Klimt in 1899.

The first work—the only completed movement of Schubert’s String Trio in B-flat Major, D. 471 (1816)—was charming and nostalgic, an end-of summer farewell full of feeling. The primary voice through most of it was violinist Ambroise Aubrun, and he gave the relaxed performance of a seasoned raconteur. 

With Kate Hamilton (viola) and Ms. Tsan on cello, the three musicians together were like streams flowing into a stately river. Each plays frequently in chamber and symphony concerts throughout Southern California, often together, so they have the perfect kind of familiarity with each other to convey the conversational qualities of this piece.

The Schubert was a little bit like that last glass of wine that would have been nice to bring upstairs if you could sneak it past the docents. His music put the audience in the mood to listen, ready to absorb the chromatic harmonies and galloping rhythms that framed Todd Mason’s String Trio (2023) in one movement. Mason, who attended both performances, composed this rapidly metamorphosing piece to illustrate through the three string players “a range of emotions including urgency, love, wistfulness and, ultimately, triumph.” These were all vividly present, expressed through the musicians’ facility with a full range of techniques, and ability to shift from rough and grinding to lyrical and free-floating.

Todd Mason.

The music was, at times, like a journey through a dark tunnel, right down to the running footsteps. The changes from dark to light and back, when they came, felt unexpected. The audience seemed fascinated by the building sense of drama. Like much of Mason’s music, it was harmonically challenging in a 20th/21st-century way, but as a flavor only. The piece overall was accessible and stimulating, and was given an empathetic reading by the trio. The audience applauded exuberantly.

The lineup changed for the third and final piece, Anton Arensky’s String Quartet No. 2, Op. 35 (1894). This is scored for violin, viola and two cellos, a rare configuration that, as one might expect, had a strong sonic foundation. The second cello was played by Allan Hon. It became apparent as the piece began why Arensky—a student of Rimsky-Korsakov’s but a disciple of Tchaikovsky—chose this line-up.

The opening Moderato broods, filled with what seems like painful self-reflection, and its deep, dark texture made me think of a monologue by a Dostoevsky character. Reading Arensky’s bio, it did not come as a surprise that he was a drinker and gambler who only lived to 44. The music in this movement conveys an inchoate yearning, ultimately unresolved, followed by painful resignation—at its end, you could almost picture a doomed man crawling into bed.

Anton Arensky, painted by 
Karl Tavaststerjna in 1901.

Of course, it was the performance by these great players that brought such images to mind; working with magnificent intuition, they collectively inhabited the soul of this music. Like actors, musicians need to find such deep feelings in themselves in order to convey them to the audience, and these four did so. At the end of this movement, the audience breached convention to burst into applause. The musicians smiled as if to say, “Let’s not stand on ceremony, we nailed that.”

Then, the piece takes an interesting turn. Our depressed lead character, most often voiced by Aubrun’s violin, seems to have survived the night, and is now up, tentatively, and moving around their shabby basement apartment, or remote wooded cabin—a hovel somewhere. The middle movement of the work's three is based on a theme from a Tchaikovsky song and opens into a series of seven variations, the first of which has a dancing quality. Clearly, our hero has revived, at least in their imagination.

The playing through each of these variations was so engaging that, in the pauses between them, audience applause poured in. But far from being distracting, this enhanced this journey, almost as if, variation by variation, the audience was cheering on the character from the first movement on their increasingly active revival. The pizzicato-dominated fourth variation, Vivace, brought to mind the prisyadka, the famous Russian Cossack dance (above right), while the sixth, Allegro con spirito, seemed to describe a mad escape. The final variation, Andante con moto, leading into the Moderato Coda, felt like another journey into a much less troubled sleep.

The Finale, Andante sostenuto, takes a step back from the emotional tumult of one person’s psyche, offering a slower and more formal discourse which, however, just a few seconds before the piece ends, breaks into a run. The audience remained delighted, and then lingered as the Observatory went dark, and Mendez’ multi-media creation began to play. Her imagery is anything but peaceful. Just like much of the music, it conveyed emotional turbulence in response to a topsy-turvy world. But it all felt like something to celebrate. These Mount Wilson "Concerts in the Dome" have an unusual artistic alchemy that makes them even greater than the sum of their considerable parts.

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100-inch Telescope Dome, Mount Wilson Observatory, Sunday, September 8, 2024, 3 p.m. and 5 p.m.

Images: The performance: Todd Mason; Schubert, Cossack dancer: Wikimedia Commons; Arensky: www.meisterdrucke.us.

Seattle "Pagliacci" Hits All the Notes

The cast and setting of Pagliacci at Seattle Opera.

REVIEW

Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci, McCaw Hall, Seattle Opera, Seattle

ERICA MINER

Ruggero Leoncavallo.

Verismo, It.: “slice of life.”

The term has become familiar and beloved to opera lovers since the late 19th century. Seattle Opera offered Ruggero Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci, one of the most performed works of this genre, as its opening production of the 2024-25 season. Often paired with another iconic verismo opera, Pietro Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana (“Rustic Chivalry”), Pagliacci has more than enough engaging music and drama to stand on its own as a complete operatic evening.

The company assembled a brilliant cast in director Dan Wallace Miller’s 1940s post-World War II setting, with two debuting artists in the leading roles. 

Monica Conesa as Nedda.

Cuban American soprano Monica Conesa brought a feminist sensibility to the role of Nedda, the feisty, beleaguered woman of her times, the only female member of her traveling troupe of stage performers. Her voice was sumptuous down to the excellent lower chest tones and crystal clear in the sparkling high notes. She made the most of her characterization, with many alluring contrasts between the sympathetic, put-upon wife, captivating Commedia dell’Arte ingenue, and shameless adulteress.

Vesti la giubba is considered the highlight of the opera, and the lead tenor’s performance frequently is judged most on this iconic aria. As Nedda’s volatile husband, Canio, Mexican/Australian tenor Diego Torre hit it out of the park, but he also made a huge impression in the role overall. Both his voice and his stage presence were immense. Dramatically, he did not hold back. His violence toward his unfaithful wife was supremely believable, yet his psychic pain was real and relatable. Vocally, he exuded a Wagnerian power while staying true to the Italianate quality required of the role.

Diego Torre as Canio.

As Tonio, Seattle audience favorite Michael Chioldi commanded attention from the very first note of his opening monologue, Si può, embodying the slice of life the audience is about to witness. From that point on, he varied his lush voice according to the characterization, whether the lovesick loser or the vengeful would-be lover, with compelling vocal strength.

Rounding out the cast in lesser but pivotal roles were Seattle Opera Resident Artist Michael J. Hawk as Silvio, and John Marzano as Beppe. Marzano’s voice had the perfect range and lightness for his “Colombina” aria, which was pleasing in every way. Hawk was not entirely convincing as the passionate lover of a mature married woman, but vocally he made an admirable effort.

A great deal of thought had gone into Dan Wallace Miller’s setting and period of the production. Italy was devastated by World War II, and the stresses of struggling with that crushing situation added tension and conflict to the already strained relationships between all the characters, especially the troubled marriage of Nedda and Canio. This portrayal, which gave the audience a view into the mind of a murderer, allowed for a heightening of the effect of the music, which is some of the most overwrought in the verismo genre.

The "play within a play", l-r: John Marzano as Beppe, Michael Chioldi as Tonio, and Monica Conesa as Nedda.

Miller gave the audience plenty to observe onstage throughout the drama, with lively, nicely detailed chorus activity that was a pleasure to watch and never distracting the viewer from the main characters’ actions. Especially appealing were the chorus children’s playful goings-on. The main characters were well drawn. Each of them displayed the gamut of emotions, from amorous to violent, three-dimensional and plausible in their relationships to each other, inexorably leading up to the explosive climax.

Michael J. Hawk as Silvio.

In his Seattle Opera debut, scenery and props designer Steven C. Kemp skillfully combined a traditional look with an ambiance reflecting difficult postwar times. The unit set, reminiscent of the best aspects of the classic Metropolitan Opera Zeffirelli production, drew the viewer in: extremely realistic, slightly tattered, but evoking an atmosphere of joy and anticipation during hard times.

Debuting Lighting Designer Abigail Hoke-Brady’s bright, sun-filled setting at the beginning of the drama became increasingly foreboding as the background gradually turned into darkness.

The players’ costumes by former Seattle Opera Costume Director and Director of Production Cynthia Savage effectively contrasted the grim realities of life for the characters in their everyday clothing with the colorful Commedia dell’Arte garb of the play within a play.

The climax of Pagliacci at Seattle Opera.

Physical conflict is also important in this gritty work, and fight director Geoffrey Alm kept the viewer glued to the stage, especially in the brutal climactic scene of grisly murder that ends the drama.

Familiar to SO audiences over many years, Conductor Carlo Montanaro showed his usual deft approach in the repertoire he clearly knows so well. Tempi were appropriate, and well-paced, and he kept the momentum throughout. The cello and violin solos were especially well done.

Chorus Master Michaella Calzaretta prepared the 36-member Seattle Opera Chorus impeccably, as Youth Chorus Master Julia Meyering did with the 16-member youth chorus.

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McCaw Hall, Seattle Opera, 321 Mercer St, Seattle, WA, Sunday, August 11, 2024, 8:00 p.m.

Images: Leoncavallo: Opera World; The production: Sunny Martini (cast and setting, Monica Conesa, opera climax), Philip Newton (Diego Torre, play-within-a-play, Michael J. Hawk).

"The Righteous" Has World Premiere at Santa Fe Opera

The opening scene of The Righteous: l-r Greer Grimsley (Paul), Brenton Ryan (CM),
Michael Mayes (David), Anthony Roth Costanzo (Jonathan).

REVIEW

Gregory Spears' The Righteous, Crosby Theater, Santa Fe Opera, Santa Fe

RODNEY PUNT

Gregory Spears.

Highly anticipated at this 67th season of the Santa Fe Opera was the world premiere production of The Righteous, an opera commissioned by the company from the New York-based composer Gregory Spears, setting a libretto by the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet and memoirist Tracy K. Smith. The production was directed by Kevin Newbury, whose previous work at Santa Fe Opera included The (R)evolution of Steve Jobs in 2017 (reviewed by myself here and in its Seattle Opera incarnation by my colleague Erica Miner here), and was conducted by SFO newcomer Jordan de Souza. I took in the fourth of six performances on July 30.

The setting is an unidentified locale (Texas?) in the American Southwest during the 1980s, when President Reagan proclaimed his term in office, with unintentional irony, as “Morning in America.” (In reality, Reagan's election represented a politically retrograde revolt by America's conservative interior states against its more progressive coastal ones, along with the ideas the latter were embracing to propel the country toward more liberal social policies.)

However, having invoked just enough real-life context for what the opera was to unfold, Smith and Newbury avoided any further direct reference to then-current history or personalities, so that only in a general sense does that decade’s socio-political climate inform the work’s two Acts, each of about 70 minutes' duration.

The Crosby Theater's al fresco setting, enhanced by its open sides, provided cinematic views of New Mexico's incomparable blazing skies, and the unfolding drama of The Righteous duly recalled the scope of classic Hollywood films such as 1955's Giant, where Texas cattle-ranchers, in testosterone-driven competition with oil barons and their dirty wells, vied for control of land and the state capital, while their pretty wives sipped mint juleps and decorated huge mansions. 

The Righteous is thus a Texas-sized morality tale in which a circle of family and friends pursue multi-generational power, with tugs of war between ambition and personal relationships: archetypical struggles where timeless religious and temporal political power intertwine by habit and history in a land where the Protestant former leans toward Fundamentalism and the latter fervently embraces the notions of individual freedom and self-reliance. 

l-r: Michael Mayes (David), Greer Grimsley (Paul).

In Spears' and Smith's debut opera all this requires a lot of words, and the density and quantity of dialogue often had audience eyes swiveling up to the close-caption scrolling to catch all the spoken action's nuanced twists and turns.

The story opens with charismatic oil magnate Paul (powerful bass-baritone Greer Grimsley) on a hunt with his son Jonathan (countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo), as the former prepares to run for state Governor. Paul's hunting partner and political protégé, the preacher David (plangent baritone Michael Mayes), is also considering a run for Governor at the suggestion of political adviser “CM” (tenor Brenton Ryan), who recognizes that David’s charisma and drive make him ideal for political as well as priestly success.

Michael Mayes (in real life born in the Texas city of Cut and Shoot, no less) brought authenticity and a nuanced pathos to his pivotal role. The story centers around David's personal and professional life, but while he demonstrates uncanny public leadership skills, he seems unaware how manipulative he is, and what effects his ambitions have on others. 

l-r: Michael Mayes (David), Anthony
Roth Costanzo (Jonathan).

The sensitive Jonathan's best friend is this same David, for whom he has special feelings that are reciprocated but not with the same sensibility. David tells Jonathan that God wants him to marry his sister, Michelle (radiant soprano Jennifer Johnson Cano), who later agrees. Meanwhile David's friend Eli (tenor Andrew Turner), a serviceman in David's church, is called up for overseas military duty, and leaves over the protests of his wife Sheila (soprano Elena Villalón). 

Paul’s death early in Act 2 enables David's (successful) run for Governor, but his drive for achievement and recognition alienates him from Michelle, who leaves him. After Eli's death in battle, David marries his widow, Sheila (sweet-voiced soprano Elena Villalón), a parishioner he had recruited to lead a women’s group, but she too eventually departs. Despite his outward success, David's constant ambition makes him unable to connect with people emotionally and even Jonathan finally feels he must move on. 

In the end David admits to alienation and loneliness: always assigning his ambition to "God's will," he has failed to see that his actions reflect that ambition's essential selfishness. His character recalls the 1960 film, Elmer Gantry (from the Sinclair Lewis story), where charismatic preacher Gantry (Burt Lancaster) delivers fiery sermons to persuadable country rubes. But where Gantry knows he is manipulating people (film audiences relished his virtuoso con-artistry), David in The Righteous, while also self-promoting, is so sincerely focused on his mission that it's hard to feel real contempt for him. Rather than outrage, one's disapproval tends instead to pity which, unfortunately for this work, is an emotion hard to invoke real dramatic heft in an operatic context.

l-r: Elena Villalón (Sheila), Jennifer Johnson Cano (Michelle).

In this very crowded, quasi soap-scenario, the large cast of 17 named individuals establish a pattern of contrasting gender behaviors. The self-absorbed career ambitions and personal drives of the first Act's male characters yield, in the second Act, to the kinder sensibilities of the females. This contrast is one of the work's main points, typified when, late in Act 2, the former wives, Michele and Sheila, meet accidentally and form a bond of friendship that neither had been able to find in their marriages to David.

The work's other key character is Jonathan, an un-outed gay devoted from childhood to David. Eloquently portrayed by Anthony Roth Costanzo, he weaves in and out of the story’s main arc, occupying an almost Christ-like presence as an implied moral conscience. As with other aspects of this work, a Hollywood film is invoked—Brokeback Mountain (2005), based on a Larry McMurtry story, in which a similar gay/straight relationship develops.

Anthony Roth Costanzo (Jonathan), with members of the Santa Fe Opera Chorus.

Musically, the long first Act's single-minded quest for power is evoked in Spears’ churning and thickly orchestrated score. Indebted to Minimalist models, its relentlessly dark and dense textures pile one on another in almost numbing succession. By welcome contrast Act 2—focusing as it does on relationships between the women characters—is much more lyrical, with the SFO Orchestra under Maestro de Souza (left) emphasizing the transparent textural interplay of strings, woodwinds, brass, and percussion.

As in past years, Santa Fe Opera in this crowded work benefited from a depth of vocal resources. Credit the training and cultivation of singers this company invests in each year, with a special shout-out for the Apprentice program, its opportunities for young singers (and technicians) being among the nation's most impressive.  

Despite some reservations over the story per se and its operatic handling, the singing and stage presences of the principals were uniformly impressive, their voices carrying over even the thick orchestral textures of Act 1. 

The ensemble cast of The Righteous, against the backdrop of distant Santa Fe scenery.

                                                                 

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Crosby Theater, Santa Fe Opera, 301 Opera Drive, Santa Fe, NM, Tuesday, July 30, 2024, 8:00 p.m.

Images: Gregory Spears: Composer website; The production: Curtis Brown Photography.

Mozart, Mischief and Mayhem Abound in Santa Fe

The Don (Ryan Speedo Green) propositions Zerlina (Liv Redpath) in Act 1 of Santa Fe Opera's production of Don Giovanni.

REVIEW

Mozart’s Don Giovanni, Crosby Theater, Santa Fe Opera, Santa Fe

ERICA MINER

The unfinished portrait of Mozart
by his brother-in-law Joseph Lange
from 1782, five years before the
composition of Don Giovanni.

As part of its 2024 season, Santa Fe Opera is presenting a beloved favorite often called the greatest opera of all time: Mozart’s dark comedy, Don Giovanni K. 527. In an intriguing new production by returning director Stephen Barlow, the opera features a stellar cast of singers, who had great command of their famously arduous roles and handled the ornamental enhancements in their arias and recitatives with impressive facility.

Intimidating, ominous, yet universally appealing, the Don has been compared to such iconic bad boys as Casanova and Dorian Gray. Three-time Grammy Award winner Ryan Speedo Green, one of today's most high-powered operatic bass-baritones, took on the devious Don for the first time in his career with an aplomb and vocality that demonstrated how well qualified he was for that prestigious recording prize.

Ryan Speedo Green (Don Giovanni).

Known for other dark roles such as Wagner’s Flying Dutchman and Mephistopheles in Gounod’s Faust, Green brings a devilish vocal and dramatic excitement to the Don that grabs the viewer and listener by the throat. He was born to play the character, and he has it down: the cavalier arrogance, the egocentricity, the stubborn refusal to acknowledge any authority but his own. Green’s vocal range is remarkably consistent from top to bottom, and his overall performance was electrifying from beginning to end. His Fin c’han dal vino brought down the house. After such a thrilling rendering, the anticipation of his Wotan in the company’s 2025 Walküre is palpable.

Nicholas Newton (Leporello).

As his beleaguered servant Leporello, former company Apprentice Nicholas Newton, doing double duty this season in the role of Jacob in the premiere of The Righteous, held his own as a vocal foil to the over-the-top Green. His range was remarkable, from the profound lower notes to the clarion high notes, which rang out through the house. Newton posed a dramatic/comedic challenge to the Don with his upbeat perspective, interpreting the role with the appropriate combination of comic flair and theatricality. Comedically, he was impeccable, milking the humorous lines for all their worth.

The cast also featured an impressive list of soprano leads: former Apprentice Rachel Willis-Sørensen in her Santa Fe Opera role debut as Donna Anna; the company debut of Rachael Wilson as Donna Elvira; and former Apprentice Liv Redpath as Zerlina.

David Portillo (Don Ottavio), and
Rachel Willis-Sørensen (Donna Anna).

Willis-Sørensen, who made her SFO debut in 2010 as an Apprentice in the role of First Lady in Mozart's The Magic Flute, negotiated the difficult tessitura and heavy duty fioratura of Donna Anna, the grieving daughter and conquest of the Don, with full, rich voice—astonishing, given her glittering performance as the Marschallin in the previous night’s Der Rosenkavalier.

The role of Anna is Wagnerian in its demands, and Willis-Sørensen delivered superbly. The high “D” in one of the arias was extremely well done, but it seemed an unnecessary strain on the voice when she had more major singing to do that evening.

In her SFO debut, Wilson gave a sympathetic portrayal of the long-suffering Elvira, although her Freudian hysteria seemed exaggerated at times. Vocally, she displayed a good command of the fioratura, which in many ways is as challenging as that of Donna Anna, and her voice was powerful enough to cut through the heavier moments of orchestration; but some of the slower tempi were challenging in terms of the long vocal lines required of the role.

Rachael Wilson (Donna Elvira).

As Zerlina, Redpath used her pure, true tones to advantage in authentic Mozartian style, with a pleasing combination of purity and heft in every register. The voice was wonderfully consistent, a delight to hear; and Redpath’s interpretation of Zerlina's character was charming.

Tenor David Portillo’s Don Ottavio was as classically refined as his Italian singer in the previous evening’s Der Rosenkavalier was Italianate. The role and his voice were perfectly suited. Portillo has many of iconic tenor Fritz Wunderlich’s qualities in voice, timbre and interpretive skill. The second of his arias, the hugely difficult Il mio tesoro, has defeated many a tenor. Portillo’s rendition was achingly beautiful and an unqualified pleasure to listen to.

Basses William Guanbo Su (Masetto) and Soloman Howard (Commendatore) contributed depth to their characters. Masetto tends to be overlooked, but Su brought a convincing aggressivity to the role, both vocally and dramatically. The Commendatore’s commanding presence, though he appears onstage only at the beginning and end of the opera, was enhanced by Howard’s profound bass voice. At once terrifying and sympathetic, his all-too short appearances onstage left an indelible impression.

Harry Bicket.

To say that company music director Harry Bicket is a world-recognized expert in Mozart would be an understatement. Past seasons with the company include panoplies of classical as well as romantic works. In Giovanni he helmed stage and pit with grace and an obvious deep knowledge of the style, but also with an ease that kept the momentum going without feeling driven. The tempi in the iconic overture were brisk and effective, but some of the arias were taken at a slower, less effective pace.

With so much manic activity onstage in the Act 1 finale, it was difficult to determine whether there were indeed three stage bands; one also missed seeing the Act 3 stage banda playing onstage rather than hearing them from the pit.

Barlow’s Giovanni takes place in the Victorian London of Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Gray, seen from the perspective of the disturbing novel depicting the evil, disdainful personage in question, thus holding up a mirror to the unsavory ethics of the protagonist. The director’s vision emphasized the dark side more than the comic side of the work’s dramma giocoso genre.

The late Victorian mise en scène, with Masetto (William Guanbo Su) jealously accusing Zerlina
(Liv Redpath) of infidelity with the Don.

Barlow's directorial interpretation of the Don’s sheer evil allows for no doubt as to the appropriateness of the character’s demise, though one would have preferred a more satisfying death scene. Leaving the body on the floor with Anna and Ottavio sitting down to dinner alongside it, rather than the Don being dragged to hell, detracted from the effect of the climax.

The scenic and costume designs by Yannis Thavoris, traditionally elegant and sophisticated for the period and highlighted by sweeping skirts and stylish top hats, allowed for both the graceful and dramatic movements characteristic of each individual role.

Company veteran lighting designer Christopher Akerlind’s effects, such as those in the chilling entrances of the Commendatore’s ghost, were dramatic but not overstated, while  Mitchell Harper’s choreography was entertaining to watch in the Act 1 party scene, with just the right measure of mischief and mayhem.

The ensemble cast for Don Giovanni.

For tickets to subsequent performances through August 23 of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, visit www.Santafeopera.org, or call 800-280-4654 or 505-986-5900.

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Crosby Theater, Santa Fe Opera, 301 Opera Drive, Santa Fe, NM, Saturday, August 3, 2024, 8:00 p.m.

Images: Mozart: Wikimedia Commons; The production: Curtis Brown Photography.