Going for Baroque in Washington
The classical music world of Washington seems to have Baroque music on its mind. After plugging the Washington Early Music Festival in this week's Classical Music Agenda, it is time to tell you about the two Baroque operas that were staged over the weekend. For its first production this summer, the Wolf Trap Opera Company is staging Telemann's Orpheus, which I heard on Friday night. This opera, rediscovered only in the 1970s, combines a mostly German libretto with some pieces in Italian and French, the latter probably just left untranslated from the original libretto. It was adapted from a French libretto by Michel du Boulay (he was not the one who combined German with other languages, as the Post reviewer suggests), which uses the ancient Greek versions of the Orpheus legend selectively, most importantly adding the role of Orasia, Queen of Thrace, who loves Orpheus and causes a snake to bite his wife, Eurydice. By killing her rival, she hopes to win Orpheus, her court musician, for herself but it does not work out that way.
The cast is generally good but has one major standout performance. South African Soprano Bronwen Forbay gave a thrilling performance as Orasia, the villain who dies in what is, remarkably, a tragic suicide, given how nasty she is throughout the opera and that she swears to continue vexing Orpheus and Eurydice in the afterlife. This is the prima donna role, the character who dominates the first and third acts and who has incredible aria after incredible aria. Forbay sang very well in German and switched effortlessly into her rage arias, which are (European stereotypes, anyone?) usually in fiery Italian, like "Sù, mio core a la vendetta!" in Act I and "Vieni, o sdegno, e fuggi, Amor!" in Act III. It is a light voice in terms of flexibility, very accurate in terms of intonation, not perfect but very impressive in the melismatic sections, and with plenty of volume. Forbay also acted well, finding an effective mixture of venom and haughty grandeur.
Also impressing with vocal power was bass Matt Boehler, who dominated the second act as Pluto, ruler of the underworld (shown above) by his towering height and strange presence. The orchestra was generally fine, with a few problems in rhythmic ensemble, dropped notes, and intonation. Conductor Guido Rumstadt, from the Regensburg Opera, helped the players and cast recover from a few scary moments. The sets were nicely done by Martin T. Lopez, especially the underworld in the second act. The company's director, Kim Pensinger Witman, wrote in her blog about how the set for the underworld scenes attracted a bat when it was installed. However, Lopez's costumes left much to be desired, especially the slutty wedding outfits the women wore at the nuptials of Orpheus and Eurydice. The (intended?) class distinction between the regal Orasia and the rest of the cast, however, did bring into relief one of the interesting subtexts of the opera for 18th-century composers, Orpheus's complaint about having to serve at the beck and call of his court employer, Orasia.
There are two more chances to hear Orpheus at Wolf Trap, this Friday and Sunday (June 23, 8 p.m.; June 25, 2 p.m.).
LA DIDONE:
Ignoti Dei Opera has done an audacious and laudable thing, a full staging, with Baroque instruments and young singers, of an adapted, slightly trimmed version of a very early opera, Cavalli's La Didone (Venice, 1641). This work represents the infancy of opera, when composers were still trying to find a way to transform the genre from something performed for humanist intellectuals and their noble patrons — men of letters and refinement — into something for mass consumption, for an audience buying tickets and expecting to be entertained. Cavalli was not there quite yet in this opera on the story of the Trojan War and the deplorable treatment of Dido, Queen of Carthage, at the hands of Aeneas, the Trojan warrior destined to found the city of Rome.
The problem with early opera for most audiences is its overuse of stile recitativo. In the late 16th and early 17th centuries, it was a daring technique, solo singing, or monody, meant to imitate the natural and flexible rhythms of human speech. It is not uncommon to find extensive sections of it in the works of Peri, Caccini, Cavalli, and Monteverdi. The problem with listening to that much recitative is that it quickly becomes, as malicious and bored conservatory students have been known to call it, "mononody." Friends who were at the performance with me on Saturday night at American University's Greenberg Theater, who left at the first intermission, said that they just wanted to hear more arias. A production of such an opera needs an unusual staging concept, to add to the interest of the story, and excellent singers, who can make listening to that much dry recitative exciting.
By and large, this production succeeded with the former but needed more of the latter. The staging and costumes (by company founder Timothy Nelson) were simple and remarkably effective, what we might call "vintage Pottery Barn": a few translucent window treatments, swaths of bright red cloth, rose petals and little roses on stands, and colored lights (by Kel Millionie). It's the sort of conceptual directing that is popular in Europe and that threw some spectators off (Joe Banno, reviewing for the Post, was not impressed). It was remarkably effective, conveying two different locales, as well as numerous divine and supernatural interventions.
As far as the singing, it was a brilliant coup to secure the collaboration of veteran soprano Rosa Lamoreaux, who was splendid as Venus, a riveting presence, vocally and otherwise, when she was on the stage in her bright red costume (complete with starlet sunglasses when she was hiding her identity from her son, Aeneas). From the company's troupe of young singers, soprano Bonnie McNaughton made some lovely and impassioned sounds as Cassandra and Didone, followed closely by Emily Noël as Creusa and Anna, with a fuller voice, although not as chocolatey in tone. Rebecca Duren made quite an impression in several very different roles, channeling a boy soprano as Ascanio, Enea's son, and Amore (Cupid), before changing costumes from male to female to become one of Dido's ladies. Of the men, tenor Aaron Sheehan was the most impressive as Enea (Aeneas).
The most impressive part of this performance, unlike the Wolf Trap Orpheus, was the instrumental ensemble, with particularly fine playing from first cornetto player Kiri Tollaksen, as well as Annalisa Pappano on the mercurial and enchanting lirone and Adam Pearl on the harpsichord and portative organ, stacked one on top of the other. If you missed these performances this weekend, you will have to wait for the next production from Ignoti Dei Opera. They hope to make inventive stagings of Baroque opera a regular event in Washington and other cities. Let's hope that they can do just that.