Missing from the Atlanta Opera repertoire for almost a decade, Verdi’s Rigoletto returned the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center this past Saturday, opening the Atlanta Opera’s 2023-24 season of mainstage productions. As in the case with the previous presentation of Verdi’s middle period masterpiece which took place in March of 2015, this production of Rigoletto (a co-production between the Atlanta Opera, Houston Grand Opera and the Dallas Opera) is conceptual, though this time around it goes further than its predecessor in its attempt to recreate some of the effects that the composer may have originally had in mind. 

Through the work of his scenic designer, Erhard Rom, stage director Tomer Zvulun underlines the opera’s oppressive qualities by lifting the action from Renaissance Verona to 1930’s Fascist Italy. 

Though the period update adds little to the value of the production (fellow traditionalists must remember that even Verdi’s setting is at odds with the score’s Gallic tinta), Mr. Zvulun’s revamping sought to re-establish elements of vulgarity and violence, particularly those involving the chorus of courtiers, which Verdi elevated to the status of a fully fleshed character in this opera. We know that Verdi was forced to water down scenes of excessive depravity by the censors, yet he was drawn to the more controversial elements of the source material, Victor Hugo’s Le Roi s’amuse” – A hedonistic king, egged on by a savage and decadent court, his every misdeed underwritten by his court jester, sets the stage for a profound study of socio-political inequality and moral corruption through the most unique anti-hero in all of opera: The deformed Rigoletto. Taking these facts into consideration, many of Mr. Zvulun’s riskier decisions are often defensible: The murder of Monterone and his daughter in the first scene sets the tone for this very dark and vulgar society where gang rule and criminal intent wins the day, and will soon overtake the fragile barriers protecting Rigoletto’s idyllic private inner sanctum. It is a world where innocence has no chance, and will be, perhaps somewhat willingly, corrupted. Another expressive scene (wonderfully choreographed by Ricardo Aponte) depicts the reaction of the courtiers as they block Rigoletto’s attempt to rescue Gilda in the second act. As the jester rants and raves, they are almost convinced by his plight and remove their masks, as if they too know the difference in their position is razor thin (#parisiamo) only to reject his pleas and, one by one, revert to their original position (Marullo being the last naysayer). When Rigoletto arrives to collect his victim in the final act, he wears the full clown regalia which defines his position in the Duke’s court, and society at large, symbolizing justice for the servant – the lesser man – over the oppression of the mighty, a visual which further invigorates the irony of the opera’s final twist. Putting a bow on an overall valid and successful reinterpretation of the opera (and how often do I get to say this?), director Zvulun revisits the 2015 Atlanta Opera production of Rigoletto in his interpretation of Gilda’s death, and his efforts are more congruent with the concept this time around.  

Leading the charge from the podium, maestro Roberto Kalb made his Atlanta Opera debut with these performances of the critical edition of Rigoletto’s score, and the opening night impression was uneven. His baton inspired crisp and tidy execution from the pit, resulting in a wall of sound both well-defined and sufficiently transparent to allow the voices (both the large and the less sumptuous) their due spotlight without palpable struggle. His brisk tempi, however, often found him at odds with the pacing capabilities of his leads, and he threatened to zip past them or hindered their ensemble efforts in many instances. 

It has often been said that in order to properly present operas of Verdi’s middle period, one must simply assemble the best singers in the world. For this production of Rigoletto, the scale tips in favor to what essentially amounts to an ensemble effort (particularly when compared to the 2015 line-up, which boasted Todd Thomas, Nadine Serra and Scott Quinn for those who keep track of such things). Opera should also function as a vehicle for great singers (we can truly count one exception,) so this is hardly a compliment. The debut of tenor Won Whi Choi as the Duke raised the eyebrow, as the young singer performance revealed a mixture of disparate vocal endowment and miraculous execution. As heard on opening night, Mr. Choi’s method betrayed signs of many strings employed to puff up an output, his entrance in the first scene revealing an instrument devoid of a definite core, and an overall breathy production which navigated the scale in an alarmingly disconnected fashion. Towards the end of the secene, his interactions with the chorus (Gran nuova!) found him scrambling – a bad omen looming over his debut so early in the evening. Thankfully, he was able to assert himself as the performance wore on. His duet with the prima donna in the second scene found him leaning heavily on the use of head voice, and what some may disapprovingly refer to as “crooning” – and yet he managed to cleverly convey the suave and tender lover nonetheless despite these shortcomings. The opera’s second act found Mr. Choi now fully acclimated to the maestro’s leadership and the dimensions of the hall. His great scena, beginning with the extended dramatic recitative “Ella mi fu rapita!” leading to the cavatina “Parmi veder le lagrime” was confidently executed, though, as in the case with the reinserted cabaletta “Possente amor mi chiama” and the opera’s big tune in the third act (y’all know it), his singing was riddled with a similar lack of uniformity in tone production and general method, often striking the ear as a series of giant sighs stitched together.  While Mr. Choi was well applauded at the end of the performance, the fundamental features which should promote great singing and an important career (equalized registers, clarity in emission, elegant and expressive phrasing, a mastery of dynamics, beauty of tone, trumpet-like squillo, ad nauseum…) are yet within his reach.  

Previously heard at the Atlanta Opera as Cleopatra in Handel’s Giulio Cesare in 2021, Jasmine Habersham fared better as Rigoletto’s daughter, Gilda, and distinguished her interpretation with earnest singing, a practice which may fall prey to its own assortment of pitfalls, yet is often bound to produce greater rewards.  Armed with a high soprano with a definite edge, Ms. Habersham’s voice is full-bodied, well-produced, and dynamic enough to be convince in the heroine’s three very different scenes. For the first, and perhaps most challenging to her essentially lyric instrument, her approach was disciplined, favoring a clean execution of the score, particularly the intricate picchiettati of her showstopping aria “Caro nome”. Her handling of these pages, often associated with the coloratura soprano brand, was accomplished, though there is evident tightness and flatness above high C, implying that these notes in the scale are on temporary loan for the time being, and the trill deserves a better exponent.  She was most successful in the extended duets with her father in the opera’s second and third acts, which allowed her to fill the phrases in ways better suited to her talents. Her stage business is involved and often touching, and while her voice is pleasing and projects a perky charm, it lacks a certain glamour that would make her ascend to the big leagues an easier ordeal. We suspect that she’s likely to welcome such challenges for she’s already surpassed the original impression made in her debut only two years ago. 

In the title role, Georgian baritone George Gagnidze makes his Atlanta Opera debut in the part that has earned him critical acclaim around the world. His performance as Rigoletto, as heard last Saturday, is moving, well-balanced, and artfully achieved. He was the highlight of the evening, at every turn, taking advantage of the role’s unique opportunities to express the passions of a man condemned by his actions and nature through a malleable baritone responsive to the singer’s interpretation. His declamation is also descriptive, making for a rich and profound reading of Rigoletto’s famous soliloquy “Pari siamo”, an intense and pathetic “Cortiggiani”, and a chilling note during the introspective recitative while awaiting receipt of the body of the Duke. The duets with Gilda are the heart of this opera, and Mr. Gagnidze rose to the occasion through his consummate vocalism. Nostalgic, tender and overprotective in the first, he allowed the phrases to swell nostalgically at the memory of his dead lover (Deh non parlare al misero), only to morph into a stern warning of the dangers of the outside world. By the time we arrived at the scene where Rigoletto’s concerns have been tragically fulfilled, Mr. Gagnidze’s instrument turned pathetic as he consoled the weeping Gilda. Though the duet’s famous stretta, “Si, vendetta…” got a bit out of hand under the pacing of maestro Kalb, Mr. Gagnidze prevailed in expressing his laser-focused intent as he sets his eyes towards vengeance. The final trio was devastating and touched the heart. In terms of vocal prowess, it must be admitted that Mr. Gagnidze’s instrument has lost some of the size and glamorous verve that got the world’s attention some fifteen years ago. In its place, his interpretation of Verdi’s iconic jester has deepened, and more than makes up for some dry patches in his scale. 

The secondary parts were solidly cast, and as noted below, delivered surprises. In the small, yet important role of Count Monterone, bass baritone David Crawford was effective in his delivery of the crucial curse which hovers over the proceedings. As Maddalena, mezzo-soprano Olivia Vote’s overtly vulgar disposition often distracted from her considerable vocal endowment. For those able to focus past the bump and grind, hers remains a serviceable instrument consistent with our recollection of her performance as Mary in Wagner’s Der Fliegende Hollander six years ago. 

The case of her stage brother, the assassin Sparafucile, deserves special mention. The part was entrusted to the gifted Patrick Guetti, who, like several others, made his Atlanta Opera debut in this production. The young bass has been favored by the gods, who bestowed upon him a voice for opera and a face for Instagram. His bass is naturally sumptuous, remains rich at the bottom of the scale, and as in the case of the company’s previous Sparafucile (the fabulous Morris Robinson) will dominate the ensemble with seemingly little effort. This was made evident in the scene where Sparafucile encounters Rigoletto for the first time. The scene is unique in Verdi’s cannon in that the orchestra is reduced to a chamber dynamic and calls the participation of low pitched instruments, thus placing the principal vocal line on top. Markings like morendo and pianissimo, imply a nefarious, secretive exchange in a darkened alley. Perhaps dealing with opening night jitters, Mr. Guetti overcooked his efforts, ensuring that the whole of Mantua and surrounding Cobb County were notified of his services and availability. He repeated this foul during the opera’s final scene, and while its odd to question the availability of big vo icesin opera, this is still Verdi’s world, where even bodybuilders are expected to dance on tip toes. Based on the strength of last Saturday’s performance, Mr. Guetti has yet to become an important artist, though the promise is there – and please believe – I will be in the audience egging him on once he gets there.

The remainder of the cast was entrusted to the artists of the Glynn Studio, with the clarion voice of mezzo-soprano Aubrey Odle as Giovanna representing the best efforts of the company’s young artist program.

The Atlanta Opera run of Verdi’s Rigoletto will end this Sunday, November 12^th. To get tickets for this performance, or to get more information about the rest of the Atlanta Opera’s exciting 2023-24 season, please visit the company’s website at www.atlantaopera.org

-Daniel Vasquez

Following the success of Moravec’s The Shining, The Atlanta Opera unveiled the next offering in its dark
and moody 2023-24 season this past Saturday at the Cobb Energy Center’s stage with the premiere of
Michael Shapiro’s Frankenstein: The Movie Opera. Unlike the case of Moravec’s uneven offering, Mr.
Shapiro’s Frankenstein is little trick and all treat, ushering all the chills just in time for Halloween.
Influenced by German Expressionism championed by works such as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and The
Golem, Frankenstein is, like its great German counterpart, a product of post World War trauma.
Economic anxiety brought on by the Great Depression, coupled by isolationist fears of all things foreign
and unknown, allowed for an exploration of America’s fears through celluloid; now repackaged through
the novel talking picture trend that would bury the golden era of silent film (ironically, the monster does
not speak in the film, but his starts and fits are well captured). Alongside the other great horror smash of
1931, Tod Browning’s Dracula starring Bela Lugosi, Frankenstein arrived at a time when Universal
Pictures needed it most, and similar to how Kirsten Flagstad reportedly saved the Metropolitan Opera’s
box office four years later, the films and their subsequent sequels allowed Hollywood to weather the
1930s. Frankenstein also arrived at a time when the infamous Hays Code had yet to be fully established,
allowing director James Whalen to imbue the film with important LGBTQIA+ subtexts, which, alongside
scenes depicting pedicide, the desecration of corpses, and overt sacrilegious acts, earned the film much controversy and future censorship. Today’s audiences, contending with the likes of the latest Exorcist reboot and whatever the hell The Nun II was – I can’t, y’all – may benefit from a viewing or two of these golden age masterpieces: They were making important art back then.

Stepping of the curmudgeon soap box, I will admit that full acquaintance with the Universal Classic
Monsters is a big ask, even for seasoned horror enthusiasts. Frankenstein’s runtime of 71 minutes
should appeal to the Tik Tok generation, but the lack of a soundtrack is a deal breaker for many. Enter
composer Michael Shapiro, who set his sights in filling the silence by composing a movie score to play
alongside the film’s dialogue. Since its debut in 2002 at the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s Jacob Burns Film Center, his work has received critical praise in its frequent stagings, and encouraged Mr. Shapiro to debut a vocal version of the score at LA Opera last year. Refashioned with elements of the Latin Requiem Mass, this vocal version, renamed “Frankenstein, The Movie Opera”, had its East Coast
premiere at the Atlanta Opera this past Saturday.

The label of “Movie Opera” is somewhat misleading as the soloists, made up of artists from The Atlanta
Opera Glynn Studio (Amanda Sheriff, Aubrey Odle, Kameron Lopreore, Jason Zacher) and baritone
Andrew Gilstrap, do not engage with each other as avatars to the actors onstage as one would expect.
Rather, Mr. Shapiro has elected to keep the actors’ spoken dialogue intact while the soloists react to the
themes explored by the film in a manner similar to the way a film score like Jerry Goldsmith’s for The
Omen functions. Through various leitmotifs (a haunting Dies Irae accompanies the monster’s darkest
scenes,) Mr. Shapiro’s score maintains a pervasive feeling of elemental alarm as the proceedings unfold.
Past this generalized support, the score is hardly ever descriptive, and as the film unfolds, the score may strike the ear as a bit repetitive. Oddly, this is perhaps its greatest strength, for it succeeds in beautifully enhancing this iconic classic with the musical support it needs to promote its great qualities to generations groomed away from the values its charms are built upon.

By sticking to a limited assortment of devices, Mr. Shapiro’s music lacks that self-serving element that often limits the public’s will to embrace modern scores, particularly those associated with the lyric stage. Essentially, he keeps the audience engaged without calling too much attention to himself. In most instances, he wisely avoids
interfering with Colin Clive’s and Boris Karloff’s extraordinary performances, and certainly keeps out of
James Whalen’s way. His restraint betrays his love and respect for the film, though I noted that he
couldn’t fully help himself during the scene depicting the monster’s encounter with sunlight for the first
time. This is truly the scene where Karloff’s profound portrayal casts the dye for both creature and the
audience’s relationship to it, acknowledged here with touching subtlety by Mr. Shapiro.

The one night only event, cleverly billed as part of a Halloween-themed season, promoted an
atmosphere of whimsy throughout the venue, and many a patron sporting full costume could be
spotted in every row. Even the Invisible Gay Man made an appearance – if you managed to see him at all, of course.

The Atlanta Opera 2023-24 season creeps into its mainstage opener this Saturday with a new production of Verdi’s immortal masterpiece Rigoletto. For more information on the company’s exciting season (La Boheme, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Die Walkure will soon follow) please visit www.atlantaopera.org

-Daniel Vasquez

Frequent readers of this blog may have noted a certain “pandemic induced anxiety,” shall we call it, which more often than not limited this writer from dabbling beyond the local opera company’s offerings. Comfort zone, accessibility and the safety of familiarity has kept me mostly state bound ever since we got sent home back in March of 2020, but vibrant performance art schedules becomes a feature of the post-lockdown world once again, I hearby declare a newfound hunger to venture outside self-inflicted isolation (reassured by official reports of the pandemic’s diminishing threat of course,) and vow to make a concerted effort to once again cover the great regional opera companies that grace our country. And so last week we braved inflated Pioneer Day airfare rates and travelled to Salt Lake City to cover part of Utah Festival’s ambitious 31 st season, which alongside a lighter fare, offers two late romantic masterpieces: Verdi’s Aida and Wagner’s Lohengrin.

Under the artistic leadership of local boy done good Michael Ballam, Utah Festival has provided residents of Logan and surrounding areas with full staged opera performances at the beautifully renovated Ellen Eccles theater. The 1,100 seat neoclassical venue offers fine acoustics for both audiences and performers alike, and has been the main stage for the company’s well curated, talented roster since 1993. It was ground zero for the two performances reviewed below.

Staging back-to-back performances of Verdi’s Aida and Wagner’s Lohengrin is no joke for most
opera companies, and as I made the scenic 80-minute trip from Salt Lake City to Logan, I wondered how the Utah Festival would be able to manage it all. My introduction to the company, Verdi’s Aida, was the third performance of the work in the run taking place on Thursday, July 20th. Though well attended and enthusiastically received, the performance cannot truly be ranked as a success, but rather as extraordinarily eventful.

Perhaps to accommodate budgetary constraints, the score has been subjected to several cuts. While reasonable arguments can be made for the omission of the ballet sequences and some reprisals, the seemingly random trimming of connecting material and thematic passages were puzzling and ill conceived. As the evening wore on, the cuts accumulated, dealing a blow to the integrity and musical effect intended by the composer. Perhaps the removal of the ballet sequences and a non-critical scene in full (the consecration scena) would have allowed for the remainder of the score to be performed unaltered and produce an altogether better outcome. Alas, the performance had much working against it even before the curtain’s rise, and it would be left to the leadership of maestro Nicolas Giusti to make sense of this abridged version of the work. Unfortunately, this did not occur.

From his reading of the opera’s brief prelude onwards, signs of concern increased as maestro Giusti proved unable to settle into a consistent tempo. His phrasing was also problematic, often pulling melodic statements apart in unorthodox ways, and throughout the performance he often found himself chasing the orchestra and principals instead of leading them, edging the proceedings towards near disaster in several key moments. An atmosphere of “fend for yourself” became palpable as the orchestra reverted its focus to the accomplishing the score’s the bare bone requirements. As the prelude gave way to the opera’s opening scene, this funk quickly transferred to the principals, who would soon struggle to stay afloat and likely setting aside the finer details of John de los Santos’ stage direction.

First at the plate was the Radames of tenor Victor Starsky, who nearly crashed and burned when confronted with the role’s keynote romanza “Celeste Aida”. The aria makes cruel demands of the tenor right away, requiring an ascend of the scale in an endless series of testing sustained phrases. If the score is to be honored, the aria must be capped by a high B flat marked “morendo” to illustrate Radames’ vision of Aida’s throne by the sun. Even gods like Jean de Reske had his reservations about the number (he reportedly required it omission to avoid dealing with it altogether), and this part of the opera is often referred to as one of those segments where the principal relies on solid support from the conductor. Keeping in mind the circumstances described above, Mr. Starky’s efforts quickly devolved into a case of death by aria. His resetting of such poor initial impression into a triumphant assumption of Verdi’s Egyptian hero, however, ultimately qualified his performance as the standout of the evening.

Quickly dusting himself off, and seemingly ignoring the mixed messages from below, Mr. Starsky began to settle into his own as the leading ladies of the cast joined him onstage. The young tenor brings an impressive pedigree and resources to the part: He is young, more than conventionally attractive, and revealed a big steely tenor that did not match his youthful, trim frame. His sound is virile, impassioned and capable of projecting an electric squillo. By the time he brought the first act to a close, he had become the dominant vocal figure on the stage. Often favoring a heroic profile, the role of Radames is hardly considered a prime vehicle for nuance, but throughout the performance, Mr. Starsky proved himself capable of vividly rendering his singing to match the expression at hand, most notably in the opera’s final scene. The mix of desperation and resignation in his voice as he uttered “Morir, si pura e bella – Morir, per me d’amore” to the dying Aida remained burned in the heart long after the curtain’s fall.

The same could not be said for his leading lady, soprano Carami Hilaire, entrusted here with the eponymous heroine, who appeared most affected by the lapses in leadership and became the evening’s main casualty. With some notable exceptions, great Aidas must possess a dramatic soprano capable of navigating dynamics ranging from the fortissimo to the pianissimo with effortless abandon, yet never experiencing loss of tonal beauty (the velvet glove). Also necessary is a mastery of declamatory singing and of the sustained melody, all the while expressing the gamut of Aida’s emotions through a variety of vocal colors. In Ms. Hilaire’s interpretation, flashes of these building blocks were infrequently on display. Throughout the evening she revealed a full lyric soprano pressed past its comfort zone in the middle voice by way of constriction, coupled with an abrupt attack to the lower tessitura, and trepidatious ascends to an altogether less responsive upper register. As the evening progressed (Aida is one of Verdi’s chattiest heroines), the strategy proved less and less becoming, rendering the notes at the top of the scale hoarse and leaving the artist incapable of achieving a clean transition to soft singing. The Nile Scene was singularly challenging. Facing little assistance from maestro Giusti’s baton, she often focused her attention downwards in an attempt to anchor her efforts, undermining her ability to emote and to connect with the rest of the cast – often appearing bored and uninterested. This was a real shame, and the overall impression was that despite occasional instances that impressed, Ms. Hilaire’s vocalism and temperament are not yet ready (certainly under the current conditions) to do justice to this role.

Determined to avoid the same fate, mezzo-soprano Audrey Babcock was smart to follow the
path taken by Mr. Starsky, and managed to assert herself almost immediately upon her entrance. A seasoned performer and frequent principal with the company, Ms. Babcock single-handedly manufactured a musical space for herself and delivered a believable reading of the great role of Amneris. Though the voice itself lacks the sort of tonal glamour that the part ideally calls for, Ms. Babcock more than makes up for this in method and delivery. Her mezzo-soprano is large and can be wielded by the artist to ear splitting dimensions if necessary. She handles the role’s high tessitura with veritable ease, though at the very top of its range the voice acquires a slight edge; and the color thins out. This limitation is cleverly managed by Ms. Babcock to remarkable effect to express the passions of the Egyptian princess, and monopolized the audience’s attention at her every utterance.

In contrast, the Amonasro of baritone Thomas Cannon was founded in more traditional roots – his lyric instrument rendered striking by the singer’s steady and rapid emission of tone. In both his entrance in the opera’s Triumphal and Nile Scenes, his voice made an impression by careful design rather than brute
force. He appeared to gradually “fill the space with his personality” with patient insistence. Brandon Coleman distinguished himself as was a remarkably built Ramfis, projecting the part’s stately and solemn authority through a steady and evenly produced bass. Though consistent throughout the run of show, his vocalism was held in check by a fussy diction and a sound that failed to assert itself convincingly past the footlights, at times giving the impression that he was singing to himself. Clarity and projection remain opportunities to be hopefully addressed for future engagements.

The remainder of the cast helped push the performance to the plus column, with soprano Jasmine Ismael as the High Priestess, bass-baritone Christopher Job as the King and tenor John Tibbett’s messenger, providing solid readings of their respective parts. Despite their reduced numbers, the 26 members of the Utah Festival Chorus managed to produce an appropriate wall of sound in their various concerted ensembles.

The following evening, I found myself back at the Ellen Eccles Theater, full of anticipation (and some trepidation) as I waited for the curtain to rise on Wagner’s Lohengrin. Unlike Aida, Lohengrin is rarely performed outside of the world’s major opera companies, and its success heavily relies on a polished and disciplined orchestra. Going by the precedent set the night before, the potential for shenanigans was very real. Ascending the conductor’s podium, maestro Andreas Mitisek quickly set such fears aside by delivering a polished and well-paced reading of the opera’s famous vorspiel.

Just as in the case with Aida, the score of Lohengrin was significantly reduced. The opera’s first act was reduced by approximately 15 minutes of its standard running time, with even the ethereal chorus “Welch holde Wunder muss ich sehen?” getting the ax. Elsa’s procession to the altar was glaringly missing from the second act, and the omission of the “Wie hehr erkenn’ ich unsrer Liebe Wesen!” section in the act three love marked another noticeable loss. In great contrast to what transpired the night before, Lohengrin’s edited score was delivered in such cohesive and artful manner by maestro Mitisek as to deliver a valid and striking reading of the opera. Throughout the show, maestro Mitisek’s functional baton, coupled with Suzan Hanson’s careful direction, provided the necessary support to allow his cast to deliver the ethereal and dramatic elements of the work to great effect.

And what a solid cast it was! With the Elsa of Italo-American soprano Joanna Parisi setting the
performance in the right direction as soon as she graced the stage. A frequent artist in European houses, Ms. Parisi’s soprano permeated the hall with the sort of Italianate warmth that is increasingly becoming less available in recent decades. Her voice is of imposing lirico spinto proportions, distinguished by a central quality that stretched horizontally to create a satisfying wall of sound through the auditorium. She brought a wealth of firm tonal beauty as she negotiated her two testing solos (“Einsam in trüben Tagen” and “Euch Lüften, die mein Klagen“) and though occasional signs of tonal spread were detected at the top fortissimo, the ear was more than willing to favor the overall consistency of her declamation. Physically and histrionically, she projected an alert and impassioned Elsa, and in collaboration with director Suzan Hanson, Ms. Parisi was responsive to the mystic and seductive charms of her leading man – the chemistry between them during the bridal chamber scene was both believable and palpable.

I cannot mention this scene without acknowledging Patrick Larsen’s effective and elegant set design, which provided both an ideal setting to the proceedings and hinted that the chamber, comprised of candle lit stone slabs with not one cushion in sight, would never be used for its intended purpose. It was simply everything it needed to be.

Portraying the opera’s title character, tenor Edward Brennan revealed an instrument capable of portraying an effective Lohengrin. A lyric tenor in its basic nature, his voice can modulate from a seductive whisper to a convincing threat with equal success. Though the most heavily concerted
pages do call for an instrument better aligned to the spinto fach, this shortcoming becomes more readily apparent in larger venues. In terms of looks, stage business, and vocal prowess within the proclivities of the Ellen Eccles Theater and the orchestral forces offered by Utah Festival, he is the right man for the assignment – and how he took advantage of the opportunity. His phrasing of the role’s key numbers, such as “Nun sei bedankt, mein lieber Schwan”, “In fernem Land” and “Mein lieber Schwan!” were elegantly realized through a voice of light silver gossamer. In collaboration with costume designer Mallory Prucha, Mr. Brennan also used his winning stage presence (his jawline is made for the lyric stage) in the service of the role, striking an appealing and enigmatic figure in costumes that would otherwise impress as less becoming in most.

Lohengrin’s most public nemesis, Friedrich of Telramund, was entrusted to the talents of American baritone Brian Montgomery, and his every involvement put the audience on notice that before us stood a veritable gentleman of the lyric theater. Despite boasting a veteran career (our research finds him fulfilling comprimario duties in a performance of Puccini’s Il Trittico back in 1979, and things have only gotten more and more interesting between then and now), Mr. Montgomery still maintains complete dominance over his instrument and sounds like an artist well within his prime. His baritone is evenly distributed across his scale, and can called upon to express Telramund’s pride, anguish and frustration at will. Most noteworthy, when things got loud (you know, Wagner-loud) Mr. Montgomery unleashed a torrent of sound with little strain or effort registered.

A natural actor, his collaboration with director Suzan Hanson yielded a performance distinguished by honest and absolute commitment, including the more physical scenes which are often cause for concern to the physical integrity of a seasoned artist. The manner with which he threw himself into the duel in Act One, and his death scene in Act Three was arresting in its delivery and dramatically convincing. It was a pleasure and an honor to witness, consume and appreciate his art.

Throughout this presentation, Mr. Montgomery’s Telramund plotted the demise of Lohengrin and Elsa with his wife Ortrud, played here by Nina Warren. The soprano and I go way back, though I doubt she is aware, when I made my first official operatic pilgrimage in the year 2000 to attend a performance of Elektra staged by Baltimore Opera, where she played Chrysothemis to Marilyn’s Zchau’s Elektra and (wait for it) Renata Scotto’s Klytamnestra. Checking my diary entry from those performances, 2000s me noted: “In your face/booming voice – floods the stage- top notes ring flap a bit when stressed but ring true – moves well onstage.” Encountering her once again here as Ortrud, I was vividly reminded of those impression she made in those performances, and how her art has developed in the ensuing 23 years.

The span of two decades has done little to diminish that big, booming voice, which she used to call attention to herself by dominating the ensemble that closes the opera’s first act. Her sound broke the sonic wave decisively, hinting at surprises to come in the following act. Her extended duet with her
husband revealed a dramatic soprano willing to make a case Ortrud’s malevolent agenda – her deafening summoning of the gods of antiquity “Entweihte Götter!” inspired impromptu ovation
(rare in Wagner). So enthralled was the audience in her impersonation that her one miscalculation came when she tried to feign benign intention. One almost faulted Elsa for believing her con. Matching my early memories, her stage deportment remains a feature, and director Suzan Hanson did well to tailor the nuances of the character to match the possibilities of her instrument. And thus Ms. Warren’s Ortrud was larger than life at every turn: Her plans are big, her hate is big, her plot is big.

Fresh from a successful interpretation as the King in Verdi’s Aida, busy bass Brandon Coleman swapped crowns and graced the stage again for this performance of Wagner’s Lohengrin, this time assuming the part of King Henry. As was noted before, his vocalism is accomplished but found wanting in clarity of diction and projection. When compared against the Lohengrin principals, the reservations became more apparent than the previous night. For their part, the 22 members of the chorus were once again capable of making up for their reduced numbers, and where costumed by designer Mallory Prucha like the sort of crew I wanted to hang out with after the performance.

If you have yet to catch Verdi’s Aida, Wagner’s Lohengrin, or any of the other productions spicing up Logan this summer, don’t panic: Utah Festival continues through August 5th . For more information, please check out UFO’s website at www.utahfestival.org

-Daniel Vasquez

This past Saturday evening, the Atlanta Opera company bid farewell to its 2022-2023 season this past with a performance of historic significance. For the first time in its history, before a sold out audience, the company unveiled Wagner’s Das Rheingold in a production designed to showcase the opera within its context as the first installment of Wagner’s monumental tetralogy. Das Rheingold serves as foundation to the bulk of the Ring Cycle, and if the opening night’s performance set the standard for the remaining three operas that complete the cycle, the Atlanta Opera is bound to set itself ahead of its southeast regional sister companies in a big way.

A collaboration with the Dallas Opera, this production of the Wagner’s Ring Cycle was originally slated to premiere at the Atlanta Opera during the its 2020-21 season. Up until this point, company’s relationship with Wagner in general had been tepid and often frustrating to long time patrons. Its sole Wagnerian offering, Der Fliegende Hollander, debuted on the company’s 23^rd season and was reprised sixteen years later. For nearly 40 years, Atlanta would venture no further into the polarizing composer’s repertoire, and local Wagnerians, kept afloat by the occasional all-Wagner program offered by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra (concert performances of Act III of Die Walkure featuring James Morris, Christine Brewer and Andrea Gruber are fondly remembered,) felt obliged to seek satisfaction in cities such as Seattle, San Francisco, Portland, Chicago, Los Angeles, Washington (#pout) and of course, New York. To those excited beyond measure at the Atlanta Opera’s announcement of its Das Rheingold premiere in January of 2020, the subsequent shelving of the entire season by nationwide lockdown restrictions seemed like a curse. The frenetic social and political rollercoaster bridging the temporary halt and last weekend’s premiere, however, have setup a uniquely relevant atmosphere for the themes explored in Wagner’s opus to resonate to modern audiences. The corruption of innocence and the weaponization of nature by renouncing love – and along the way – decency, reason and fairness – are all immediately relevant to the hashtags (#leitmotifs) that inundate our everyday. Das Rheingold may feature gods and giants, but when considering their present and future actions, it certainly offers no heroes.

Guiding the Atlanta Opera company through its first forays into Valhalla, stage director Tomer Zvulun, alongside a production team familiar with the company and its audience, have thankfully allowed the proceedings to unfold in a straightforward way: The absurdity of modern life is all the updating that is essentially required. The work of scenic and projection designer Erhard Rom served the production admirably when depicting naturalistic elements such as waves of the Rhine River or the rolling clouds that announce the arrival to Valhalla. The synergy between his projections and the work of lighting designer Robert Wierzel occasionally resulted in awe-inspiring imagery, such as the settling of the clouds as Fricka awakens Wotan. The costumes by Mattie Ullrich beautifully contrast the Elysian profile of the gods against the utilitarian garb sported in the Nibelheim and the organic, algae-inspired frocks worn by the Rheinmaidens. Some of Das Rheingold’s prohibitive stage trickery was resolved with varying success through the filmed media innovations of Felipe Barral and Amanda Sachtleben, which proved most impressive when depicting Donner’s hammer strike towards the end of the opera. 

Tasked with the tremendous responsibility of bringing to life the nearly three-hour score without a break, maestro Arthur Fagen offered a solid, conservatively paced reading of the Gotthold Ephraim Lessing orchestra reduction of Wagner’s score on opening night. His orchestral phrasing was sumptuous (yet never pompous) and bold, allowing the brass section to assert itself in all its splendor, from the well realized vorspiel, a nerve-wracking fantasy in E-flat major for the horn section that expands 136 bars depicting creation, nature and the waves of the Rhine, to the exuberant sonic statements of the Valhalla and Sword motifs. Other highlights, such as the famous anvil sequence associated with the Nibelheim, proved less pristine. Maestro Fagen’s broad tempi also afforded his leading soloists the musical space to acclimate their resources as the long evening progressed.

For these performances, the Atlanta Opera should be credited with securing the services of Bass-baritone Greer Grimsley, who makes his Atlanta Opera debut with these performances. For over twenty years, he has cemented his reputation as one of the finest exponents of the role Wotan in the world today. The stentorian instrument is distinguished by a gritty timbre which the savvy artist uses to navigate the complexities of his august assignment. In sonic terms, he can unleash a torrent of sound which can both caress and roar past the orchestral wall of sound with little sign of effort. Though his tone has lost some youthful luster since we last heard him in the flesh (that was in 2014, when he unleashed an overwhelming Macbeth in Minnesota,) his declamation is steady and responsive in every register. In both vocal and physical statement, he embodied the god Wotan at the height of his physical powers – yet easily seduced by the restless political currents he himself is willingly aggravating (his hyperfocus on the ring during Alberich’s curse), and extra marital pursuits (his interest in Erda going beyond her mystical wisdom). Emotionally, his Wotan is at once proud, troubled, exuberant and sometimes cruel. We look forward to the development of his interpretation next season when the Atlanta Opera company offers the next installment of the Ring Cycle, Die Walkure. Mr. Grimsley’s participation has already been announced.

In the part of Wotan’s antithesis, the Alberich of baritone Zachary Nelson shared the evening’s superlatives alongside Mr. Grimsley. A young artist celebrating a decade in his professional career, Mr. Nelson, his first forays into the Ring (at Lyric Opera of Chicago, no less) were stalled by the pandemic. Perhaps eager to make up for lost time, he vividly immersed himself into an intense reading of the frustrated and power-hungry Nibelung elf. His baritone has all the hallmark of youthful exuberance: Bronze hued timbre, tremendous sonority and easy access to the upper tessitura. He established a frenetic presence across the footlights with reckless abandon, and one hopes he will husband his resources as the career develops: His is one that holds many promises.

In Das Rheingold, the tenor ilk was principally represented by tenor Richard Cox, who produced a serviceable interpretation of the misfit god Loge. An important player in Wagner’s Ring, Loge’s sole chance at the spotlight takes place in Das Rheingold (Loge makes a brief appearance in Die Walkure, but does not sing). Mr. Cox revealed a well-placed instrument graced by a naturally soft edge, which was rendered poetic when revealing the deeper introspective facets of the character.  When negotiating the perky and fast turning phrases that reveal the character’s clever disposition, his instrument lacked the type of exuberant, bombastic quality that commands the attention through its sheer presence alone. That incisive element was more readily found in the singing of tenor Julius Ahn, who stole every scene in the Nibelheim through the short but important (as we will see two years from now) role of Mime.

Rounding off the leading men, baritone Joseph Barron and tenor Adam Diegel brought great swagger to their masculine impersonations of the gods Donner and Froh respectively, and were offset by the juxtaposing sentimental and ruthless disposition of the giants, brought to life in these performances by bass Kristinn Sigmundsson as Fasolt and bass Daniel Sumegi as Fafner. In Das Rheingold, the score favors Fasolt, and Mr. Sigmundsson projected an empathetic character desperate to add some joy and happiness to an otherwise miserable life at every turn.  Mr. Sumegi as Fafner was wonderfully selfish and calculating. He will have an opportunity to expand on Fafner’s development in Siegfried, if its in the cards.

Leading the women of Das Rheingold, Elizabeth DeShong offered a well sung performance of the goddess Fricka as her introduction to the Atlanta Opera audience. A frequent artist featured at the great opera companies worldwide, Ms. DeShong offered a stately mezzo-soprano distinguished for its firmness of tone and hall filling dimensions. The middle voice in particular shone beautifully through the auditorium of the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center. The ascent to the upper notes betrayed a slight hardness, which dissipated into the cacophony of the orchestra. Dramatically, her relationship with husband was understandably tentative, and though at times she put the audience on notice of her powers in reserve, she seldom chose to dominate the proceedings, either vocally or histrionically, delegating those duties to soprano Jessica Faselt, whose Freia was distinguished by clarion delivery, ad a gleaming, brilliant top register. An ideal contrast to Ms. DeShong. A solid trio comprised the aquatic delegation of Rheinmaidens led by the bright voiced Woglinde of soprano Cadie J. Bryan, the firm voiced Woglinde of soprano Alexandra Razskazoff, and that extraordinary member of the Atlanta Opera Glynn Studio Artists, dramatic mezzo-soprano Gretchen Krupp.

As Erda, mezzo-soprano Ronnita Miller uneasy and somewhat strained delivery of the crucial role of Erda raised a few reservations in an otherwise excellent cast. The voice is wonderfully imposing and fills the hall appropriately, but it managed said task through a hooty production which compromised pitch and steady emission. She was aided by maestro Fagen, who expedited her efforts against the grain of his otherwise expansive beat. Erda is a short part yet very exposed, and we hope Ms. Miller rises to the occasion in subsequent performances.

There are three more performances of Wagner’s Das Rheingold, including tonight’s performance at 7:30 pm (yes, I am rushing over there as soon as this post is published). Atlanta audiences are STRONGLY URGED to be a part of history. Rumor has it that single tickets for next year’s Die Walkure are already on sale!  THIS-IS-IT, PEOPLE!

For more information on Das Rheingold and the Atlanta Opera, please visit the company’s website by visiting www.atlantaopera.org

-Daniel Vasquez

Absent from the stage of the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center since 2012, Atlanta Opera audiences welcomed back Mozart’s Don Giovanni this past Saturday with open arms, and for good reason. Mozart’s version of Don Juan, a perennial classic in the repertoire, has a guaranteed home in the operatic stages the world over, and Atlanta is no exception. By way of the Metropolitan Opera touring days, Atlanta has familiarized itself with Mozart’s masterwork through a veritable who’s who of 20^th century operatic luminaries: Jerome Hines, Eleanor Steber, Leontyne Price, Cesare Siepi, George London, Lisa della Casa, Fernando Corena, Sherill Milnes, Roberta Peters, Cesare Valleti, Nicolai Gedda, Theodor Uppman, Edda Moser, Frederica von Stade, and Teresa Zylis-Gara among the names to be dropped. The Atlanta Opera proper would stage its first production in 1993, an occasion that brought Dean Peterson’s Don Giovanni to the stage of the Alliance Theater and marked the debut of the spectacular Brenda Harris as Donna Anna. The strength of those performances would solidify a lifelong obsession for opera in yours truly, a then high school sophomore experiencing the thrill of live performance for the very first time.

The Atlanta Opera brought Don Giovanni back in 1998, this time at the Fox theater with a controversial production by Ken Cazan (several audience members were seen to walk out during the banquet scene) headlined by Eugene Perry, Pamela Kucenic as Donna Elvira, and the much-admired Martile Rowland as Donna Anna. When scheduling conflicts at The Fox Theater obliged the company to relocate to The Civic Center, Don Giovanni made a comeback in 2004 with a near reunion of the 1993 leads, but this time with Brenda Harris as Donna Elvira. Prior to these performances, the opera’s most recent presentation took place at The Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center in 2012, a run held to standard by the efforts of the Donna Anna of Pamela Armstrong and the Ottavio of Nicholas Phan if memory serves us right. 

Since Atlanta Opera patrons can claim a certain familiarity with Don Giovanni, it was no surprise to hear some gasps among the ovations as the curtain fell on the opening night’s presentation immediately following the iconic Commendatore scene. Surely, something foul was afoot, and puzzled mutterings from local Mozartians could be heard as the audience made its slow retreat towards the exits. A quick review of the opera’s performance history, however, provides the Atlanta Opera with the receipts to justify the decision to remove the epilogue.

The performing version of the opera which modern audiences have become familiar with is not entirely the work which triumphantly premiered in Prague in October 29, 1787. For the Vienna premiere the following year, Mozart made significant alterations to accommodate the starry lineup: The role of Donna Anna would be entrusted to Aloysia Lange, a prima donna with exuberant vocal resources who had been the composer’s romantic interest in his early days in Salzburg (keeping it in the family, he eventually married her sister Constanze in 1782). This state of affairs was not lost on the celebrated Caterina Cavalieri, who quickly declared her engagement as Donna Elvira in the Vienna premiere conditional. At her insistence, Mozart composed a new aria, the bravura scena “Mi tradi quell’alma ingrata” to match Lange’s Act I soliloquy. Tweaks to the score did not end here, and as it is often the case the tenor had requests of this own. To spare Vienna’s Don Ottavio the difficulties of the Act II ornate showpiece “Il mio tesoro”, Mozart removed the aria and composed “Dalla sua pace” for insertion in Act I. To patch up the space left bare by the removal of “Il mio tesoro,” Mozart composed a short duet between Zerlina and Leporello which never gained much traction in modern revivals.  The Vienna score also does not include the epilogue which follows the climatic Commendatore scene, leading to speculate that the subsequent performances which ended immediately after Don Giovanni is dragged to hell was within the composer’s dramatic designs. The existence of these two versions offers companies an array of choices, and most prefer a composite version which will feature both of Don Ottavio and all three of Donna Elvira’s solos. The duet between Zerlina and Leporello is omitted, and the epilogue from the Prague premiere is left intact. The inclusion of all possible numbers of importance has its obvious musical benefits and some theatrical draw backs. The text of the Ottavio arias are not congruent (Mozart never intended for them to be sung in the same performance), leaving the audience puzzled as the Ottavio of “Il mio tesoro” never really makes good on all his swagger. The epilogue itself, though perfectly fitting the style of the day, serves as an anti-climax to the scene which precedes it. As heard on Saturday evening, the Atlanta Opera arrived at a working version of the score through new compromises. It discarded Don Ottavio’s “Dalla sua pace” in favor of “Il mio tesoro” and removed the epilogue scene thus ending the opera after Don Giovanni’s demise. Perhaps to further distill the action, recitative sections which serve as vital character exposition were also subjected to substantial reduction, and Leporello’s plea following Act II’s sextet that reveals his cat fishing has inexplicably bit the dust.

Tasked with managing this musical gamble as part of his Atlanta Opera debut, conductor Jan Latham-Koenig took some time to settle into his paces. After an incisive and scholarly reading of the famous overture, his interactions with the cast occasionally called out a tense element in the relationship between the principals and his clear, yet unyielding baton. When applied to this cast of young artists, most of them making their Atlanta Opera debuts along with the maestro, the results were musically tidy, but poetically limited.

Already enjoying a considerable amount of success in the first decade of his career, bass-baritone Brandon Cedel’s Don Giovanni cut a striking figure upon his entrance. A tall, good-looking young man, Mr. Cedel is a good actor, and looked dashing in the various formal wear which proved the main benefit of the director’s update. His voice is of important profile and size, but a sameness of method often renders his singing breathy and stiff. Oddly enough, the mechanisms which he employs to make his voice exert itself against the orchestra also contributed to its dissipation. The opera’s title role provided many opportunities for this young artist to give it his best go at it, and among Mr. Cedel’s most successful efforts were his handling of Don Giovanni’s simple serenade, the famous “Deh vieni alla finestra”, and the opera’s final scene.

He was frequently bettered by the efforts of his frumpy servant Leporello, sung here by bass-baritone Giovanni Romeo. A singer who so impressed us last year as Bartolo in the Atlanta Opera’s production of Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia, it was a joy to see Mr. Romeo returned to this stylized variation of Seville via this Mozartian vehicle. A native of Milan, Mr. Romeo brings along with him shades of a now diminished school that once graced the patter song of the great buffo exponents of the past, kept alive in recent decades by the likes of Simone Alaimo and Michele Pertusi, and the omission of Leporello’s “Ah pieta, signori miei” was a real shame. Matching the impression he made in the previous year, Mr. Romeo’s singing remains expressive and responsive throughout his scale.  More importantly, he has an artistic compass that guides his performance, projecting genuine intent behind each phrase. Whether this indicates an exclusive proclivity towards the comedic repertoire remains to be seen.

The role of Il Commendatore was curiously undertaken by the same singer handling Masetto at both the Prague and Vienna premieres of Don Giovanni. Whether this was by chance or Mozart’s design, the tradition did not stick, and most modern productions (such as the one being discussed) will employ the service of separate basses to do well by these parts. Atlanta’s Commendatore, George Andguladze, hails from Georgia (the country, not the state) and arrives with an impressive resume under his belt. As heard Saturday evening, his bass may not be dark hued enough to embody creepy, but is plenty steady and ample to be heard unassisted, allowing the company to rectify from previous injury (we remember 2012, we remember).  Pertaining to the evening’s Masetto, the announced Edwin Jhamal Davis was inexplicably replaced with bass-baritone Andrew Gilstrap, who’s voice we had sampled briefly when he undertook the part of the registrar in the season’s opener: Puccini’s Madama Butterfly. Though we cannot speak on the talents of Mr. Davis, Mr. Gilstrap’s participation was most appreciated. His is a well-realized bass-baritone of good size, with a natural feel for declamation and devoid of the trappings of over production. With slow development and careful planning, great things await this talented young singer….and us.

Representing the higher voices, Duke Kim lent his breezy tenore di grazia to his impersonation of Don Ottavio to good effect in the opera’s dynamic opening scene and the ensembles that follow. Without the testing aria “Dalla sua pace” to measure his attributes in a sustained melody, the tenor had to patiently await the arrival of “Il mio tesoro” in the second act, only to join the countless artists who have fallen prey to the aria’s extreme difficulties. The aria calls for true mastery of florid passagework, alongside incisive attack, elegant phrasing and extraordinary lung capacity designed to illustrate the young nobleman’s resolve. These are qualities which Mr. Kim possessed to be sure, but in varying degrees of moderate quantities. Histrionically, Mr. Kim broke little new ground in his interpretation of Donna Anna’s fiancée, easily settling into the expected high bred dandy archetype and looking good in the process.

As Ottavio’s beleaguered love interest, Armenian soprano Mane Galoyan brought a youthful splendour to the role of Donna Anna. In her introduction to the Atlanta audience, Ms. Galoyan revealed an instrument of full lyric proportions with spinto possibilities, which distinguished itself through its round, soft brightness and purity of tone. Her vocal toolbelt is endowed with good agility, an impressive range, and a facility in dynamics which allows her instrument to convince in authoritative stance, qualities which empowered her to deliver convincing accounts of the fiery “Or sai chi l’onore” and the plaintive “Non mi dir”. Despite these superlatives, there were signs that she’s still cementing a technique that will allow for greater mastery of the ornate scales that decorate Anna’s devilish outbursts, and while her singing was impressive, it has yet to fully exploit the expressive possibilities in the part. As to her stage business, her small frame and melancholy features were not flattered by the blocking and costume designs. Under the right light, her face evokes the enigmatic quality found in an old Patti or Ponselle portrait. 

Folks well-versed with the modern performance history of Don Giovanni have witnessed the casting of the peasant girl Zerlina switch from light soubrette sopranos to lyric mezzos and vice versa throughout the decades. There also exists evidence that contraltos used to have a go at it in the 19^th century. Zerlina’s character arch is unusually rich in her frank awareness of the power of her sexuality as it relates to her station in society. In its casting of the part, the Atlanta Opera was fortunate to secure the services of Meigui Zhang, a soprano of unusual ease in the middle and low registers (enhancing the character’s sultry nature) and an easy extension to the upper scale required to fulfill the part’s charming arias. Ms. Zhang’s youth and beauty furthered her cause tremendously.

While many productions of Don Giovanni focus the prima donna spotlight on Donna Anna, the Atlanta Opera’s current production has placed the laurels on the brow of mezzo-soprano Jennifer Johnson Cano who makes her Atlanta Opera debut as Donna Elvira. Hers is an exciting dramatic mezzo-soprano which extends excitedly upwards to do right by Elvira’s dizzying collection of leaps and scales from her very entrance. Mention of her florid singing must also include the weight with which she managed every ornate bar, each note brandished with due focus and care, and tastefully linked within the structure of the phrase. In the second act, maestro Latham-Koenig dusted off a rarely heard D-Major version of Donna Elvira’s “Mi tradi” (as opposed the version in E-Flat that we’re accustomed to hearing) designed to display the richness of her lower register to great effect. Theatrically, she took great advantage of the possibilities afforded by the updating, and looked like a million bucks in the costumes.

We cannot leave this assessment without mentioning the work of the other Atlanta Opera debut which took place last Saturday, that of stage director Kristine McIntyre. In her reimagining of Mozart’s masterpiece, director McIntyre aimed to update the work through 1930’s monochromatic film noire meets Dick Tracy aesthetic. The production is replete with of shadows, trench coats, and art deco accents, but little in the way of resolving some of the question marks that have plagued the opera for centuries (the true nature of Donna Anna’s grief, Zerlina’s true agenda, etc). To your friends at newoutpost, the update provides striking visual elements that will delight some, but fails to achieve its supposed purpose: to bridge the gap between modern audiences and moral and societal sensibilities in Mozart’s time. Today’s audience may be just as removed from 1930’s gender role tropes as we are to those held in 1787.  With all things being equal, perhaps a case can be made to let the thing just be what it is.

For more information on the remaining performance of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, please visit the company’s website at www.atlantaopera.org

-Daniel Vasquez

There was palpable electricity in the air this past Saturday, as the Atlanta Opera unveiled its 2022-23 mainstage season with the first of four performances of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly. The production was originally intended to open the 2020-2021 season, but fell victim to the many delays associated with the Covid pandemic. The glittery opening night audience, which filled the confines of the Cobb Energy Center for the Performing Arts in pre-pandemic numbers, included amongst them the new Consulate General of Japan Mio Maeda and former Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin. It enthusiastically received the revival of the much-admired Madama Buttefly production first seen in 2014, an occasion which also marked Tomer Zvulun’s innagural season as Artistic Director and cemented his collaboration with the late maestro Lorin Maazel, for whom these performances are dedicated.

In reviving this production eight years after its premiere, Mr. Zvulun and his design team have made subtle revisions to the visual elements. Edhard Rom’s projection and video backdrops, depicting the home’s exquisite garden and other naturalistic settings, have become further integrated with Mr. Rom’s sets and Allen Charles Klein’s costumes to produce one of the finest traditional productions of the opera to be experienced today. For his part, Mr. Zvulun has filled in some of the blanks to aid the audience along. A projected quote by president Roosevelt declaring a nautical manifest destiny in the Pacific helped set the socio-political climate of the era which permeates the narrative. Some gambles, such as the introduction of young Sorrow running across the stage in mid-play had a devastating effect, while Suzuki’s overhearing of Pinkerton’s true intent in Act I and his interactions with his son during the opera’s final trio will alter the audience’s emotional response depending on who you ask, while innovations providing unnecessary aid to straight musical stretches (the fluttering butterflies accompanying the opera’s brief orchestral introduction and the depiction of Pinkerton’s ship projected superimposed against the orchestral intermezzo that links the two big scenes in Act II), remained superfluous – sometimes it is ok for the eye to let the ear take over.

Taking over Music Director Arthur Fagen’s place at the pit, young maestro Timothy Myers negotiated the difficult score admirably. A protege of the late Lorin Maazel, his execution was prim and often distinguished by a brisk tempo which showcased his fresh interpretation of this familiar music. His handling of the Act I concertato in particular (performed in its original form for these performances) was noteworthy for its clarity and congenial phrasing. If a subtle musical tug-of-war between the pit and the evening’s leading tenor called out a need for more amicable flexibility in the maestro’s tempo structure (who incidentally remained steadfast,) it was quickly resolved by the time the leading prima donna settled into her entrance.

Making her debut in these performances of Madama Butterly, Japanese soprano Yasko Sato brings to Atlanta her celebrated assumption of Puccini’s tragic heroine. Her Cio-Cio-San is an important, carefully curated creation, replete with nuances designed to convey the character’s innocent fascination (the insistent way her gaze follows Pinkerton across the stage in Act I, for instance) and contrasted with her willful renunciation of her cultural heritage for the love of a man who truly does not deserve it. The offstage family protests coupled with her anxious retorts of “Butterfly – Rinnegata…e felice” were delivered to their full impact. Coupled with the political climate of 2022, it resonated with greater relevance.

The opera’s marathon second act became an emotionally excruciating experience for the audience as Ms. Sato’s Cio-Cio-San’s hope, faithful devotion and unwavering love (the very factors driving her forward,) became corrupted by a harsh world to instigate her undoing. And yet, so much life was lived as the character willfully strategizes to deceive herself. These culminated with Ms. Sato’s tense and tentative exchanges with Suzuki following Pinkerton’s return, and the careful inspection of her crucifix as the weight of the truth and her sacrifice loomed over her prompted profound silence in the audience. The final reclamation of her heritage served as silver lining to her tragic demise.

It is noteworthy to point out that, as heard on Saturday, Ms. Sato’s heartfelt stage portrayal was not equally supported through vocal means. Her soprano at times qualified as that of the lirico spinto designation, though it was wielded through a disparate method consistently at odds with the demands of the score. The voice is of significant size, best heard in the warm and amber tones of her middle register when exposed to low pressure situations. Perhaps an issue of stamina, the sustained melodies which crown Cio-Cio-San’s famous entrance were solidly delivered up through the confession to Pinkerton of her secret conversion to Christianity (“Ieri son salita”). From then on, a constricted production in the upper passagio marred subsequent stabs at the higher tessitura, which became harsh and strident, threatening veritable grief in the important climatic moments that followed. The lack of technical support rendered her phrasing perfunctory and limited her freedom to express herself musically to her fullest potential, a real shame as she is a pupil of the great Raina Kabaivanska, one of the last great exponents of the role in the 20^th century.

Returning to the Atlanta Opera stage as Pinkerton, Italian tenor Gianlucca Terranova delivered another winning portrayal to accompany his previous triumphs as Bizet’s Don Jose and Puccini’s Rodolfo and Calaf. He imbued Pinkerton’s music with that welcomed idiomatic Italianita that has qualified him as a favorite with Atlanta audiences in previous seasons. In the past seven years, the voice has retained its bronze hue and tight knit even through the most climatic passages, though the ascent to the high fortissimo is now aided through a distinct focus which contrasts the rest of his technique. Voices change and methods change with them. In the interim, he fully milked all three solos and his participation in the opera’s extraordinary love duet all the while delivering the stereotypical Pinkerton needed to inspire the disdain of the audience. The playful jeers mixed with the ovation that greeted his curtain gave sufficient notice of his success.

Returning to Atlanta in the role that marked her debut back in 2014, Nina Yoshida Nelsen’s interpretation of Suzuki has further developed into the protective and caring maid turned extended family to Cio-Cio-San. Vocally, her mezzo-soprano has retained its sympathetic mellow tone while her declamation has gained a welcomed newfound authority. She shared supporting credits with the fine Sharpless of bass-baritone Craig Colclough, who’s smashing debut in the title role of Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro remains vivid in our recollection seven years after the fact. Like in the case of Ms. Nelsen’s, though the core qualities of Mr. Colclough’s instrument and stylistic approach are not ideally suited for Italian verismo, he nonetheless succeeded in delivering a diplomatic and sensible reading of the American consul Sharpless. These fine singers, together with Mr. Terranova, joined their substantial talents to deliver a beautiful rendition of the opera’s final ensemble, “Io so che alle sue pene”.

The comprimario assignments were exceptionally cast, with Saturday night’s performance providing us with an update on the vocal condition of baritone Leroy Davis, whom we last heard as Ernesto in Odyssey Opera’s presentation of Pacini’s rare work “Maria, Regina d’Inghilterra back in 2019 (before everything went to hell). Back then we wondered if the young artist’s developing talent would catch up with his technique. Heard here as Prince Yamadori, we are happy to report tremendous progress in projection and core development. In the key role of Goro, tenor Julius Ahn enthusiastically graced his involvement with inexhaustible verve and the role of Kate Pinkerton, so often delegated to a deserving chorus member, allowed the full and vibrant mezzo-soprano Gretchen Krupp, a Glynn Studio Artist, to enter our radar.

There are three remaining performances of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly. For more information on these, and the rest of the company’s 2022-2023 season, visit www.atlantaopera.org

-Daniel Vasquez

Under the banner of its acclaimed Discovery Series, the Atlanta Opera welcomed its 2022-2023 season last weekend with an acclaimed staging of Bartok’s Bluebeard’s Castle. The production, the brainchild of stage director Daisy Evans and conductor Stephen Higgins, premiered last November at London’s Theatre of Sound to glowing reviews, and makes its American premiere with these performances at Kennesaw State University’s Bailey Performance Center. It made for an emotional evening at the theater which likely resonated with many.

Allegories, ambiguous symbolism and gothic fairy tales are often easy bait for the enterprising modern opera director. Director Daisy Evans is no exception, but where some favor a more gratuitous vein, Ms. Evans has chosen a more courageous path. Admitting a failure to reconcile Bluebeard’s music and text with that of a murderous psychopath, she has sought to reimagine the work in a way that resolves the character’s ambiguities. Her vision of the action turns the libretto on its head: Bluebeard’s brutal gothic castle, with its minimal hallway flanked by seven doors, becomes the interior of a simple house filled with the trappings that make it an ordinary home. Judith is no longer Bluebeard’s latest bride, but his lifelong partner who is grappling with the onset of dementia. Instead of doors revealing the fate of Bluebeard’s previous wives, an old trunk serves to unlock the various memories that fade in and out of Judith’s consciousness: Her splendor as a youthful bride, the joys of motherhood and the painful tragedy that triggered her illness. We are faced with the different stages of the life of this woman, juxtaposed with Bluebeard’s tragic plight. For as he unveils her memories, they both relive their painful past as she continues to inevitably fade away.

The intimate setting established by Ms. Evans is further promoted by maestro Stephen Higgins’ carefully crafted orchestral reduction. A labor of love embarked during the pandemic lock-down, maestro Higgins distilled what is considered to be a large orchestral showpiece down to nine instruments. While those familiar with the work will surely crave the diversity of color which only a full orchestra can provide, maestro Higgins’ reduction achieves much through economical means. His efforts are brought to life by nine talented musicians, with David Odom, John Warren, and David Bradley standing out for their meticulous work in the clarinet and horn sections respectively.

While Bluebeard’s Castle demands the attention of the audience for a run time of just over one hour, it challenges the endurance of the two protagonists who must essentially maintain an extended duet for the duration of the show. The company offers baritone Michael Mayes, a favorite with Atlanta Opera audiences, in the opera’s title role. In our previous encounters with his work, we’ve found his portrayals physically energetic yet lacking degrees of vocal finesse. Though his physical acting took center stage again in these performances, Bartok’s musical language proved a good vehicle for his expressive vocal possibilities. His Bluebeard is wonderfully understated and tenderly responsive to his Judith, the renown dramatic soprano Susan Bullock, who we are convinced made her Atlanta Opera debut in these performances though the playbill made no mention of the fact. Ms. Bullock’s repertoire is a veritable survey of the heavy dramatic soprano roles most voice teachers will caution about, and recalling our last hearing her as Strauss’ Elektra thirteen years ago at some big opera company up north, her vocal powers have diminished somewhat. But that’s to be expected. As heard last weekend, the voice’s gleamy focus gets clouded by an occasional weakness in the middle passagio, which creeps up with little warning, at times affecting the top of the voice and other times the middle (a factor that surely affected Judith’s iconic reaction as the fifth door is opened). She cleverly used her vocal patina and hypnotic stage presence to weave a devastating portrayal of Judith.

The success of this reimagining of Bartok’s only opera was made possible by the intimate setting provided by Kennesaw State University’s Morgan Concert Hall at the Bailey Performance Center, a one level concert venue that seats just over six-hundred patrons. It allowed the orchestral reduction to fill the space to its fullest possibilities while providing an immersive experience to both patrons and musicians, encouraging a more naturalistic acting style from the cast while providing the audience with the opportunity to experience director Evan’s English translation without the aid of supertitles. And that, like performances of Bluebeard’s Castle, is a rare treat indeed.

The Atlanta Opera will return to the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Center in November for the opening of its mainstage season with performances of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly. The 2022-2023 season promises to be one for the books, and will also include Mozart’s Don Giovanni, Bernstein’s Candide and Wagner’s Das Rheingold. For more information, please visit the company’s website at www.atlantaopera.org

-Daniel Vasquez

It may come as no surprise to visitors to this site when we say that the pandemic has been rough on your friends Newoutpost. Short of become carefully reacquainted with the offerings of our local company (The Atlanta Opera), our return to polite society has been slow. For this reason, a self-imposed moratorium on pilgrimages, a frequent feature of our pre-pandemic content, hampered our output over the past two years. We are happy to report that newoutpost is officially back on the road, and this past weekend when we headed to Valhalla by way of Nashville Opera’s production of Wagner’s Das Rheingold.

While the decision to attend a regional company’s historic premiere of the first installment of Wagner’s landmark tetralogy may seems like a no brainer, there were valid reservations to consider prior to packing our suitcases. Our previous experiences with the company has been spotty: A blazing introduction in 2014 through Verdi’s Otello being sharply juxtaposed with a well-meaning yet ultimately disappointing presentation of Offenbach’s Les Contes d’Hoffmann in 2019. Was the company ready to take this quantum leap? Equally valid was the realization that Nashville’s Airbnb rates rival those found in NYC. You also have to get there, and though the distance between Nashville and Atlanta is moderate, the billboards and bumper stickers to be encountered during the drive can proof triggering depending on how your 2022 is going. The company’s assertion that programing the rest of the Ring cycle is not officially off the table helped tip the scales towards our visit, a decision further cemented with the realization that these performances of Wagner’s Das Rheingold would take place at Belmont’s University new Fischer Center for the Performing Arts.

Vital to Richard Wagner’s artistic ideals (Gesamtkunstwerk,) the orchestra and vocal balance of his scores is directly related to the size and design of the venue, and while the Fischer Center for the Performing Arts is not identical in design or scale to Bayreuth’s Richard-Wagner Festspielhaus, its Beaux Arts Revival style and seating capacity (approximately 1,600 seats spread over four horseshoe-shaped tiers) allow for a more intimate and friendlier acoustic than most American venues can offer. Though Nashville Opera framed the proceedings with rare advantage, the presentation replete with inevitable compromises: The production values contrasted the classic appeal of the venue and score by following some of the trends that have distinguished modern Wagner productions in the past decade. Under the direction of Nashville Opera CEO & Artistic Director John Hoomes and his design team, the stage divided into two levels by scaffolding which also serves to support massive HD screens, which bear the brunt of resolving the opera’s tricky stage challenges through clever imagery designed by lighting designer Barry Steele. The results are two-fold, occassionally enhancing the proceedings with the right poetic verve (the sequence accompanying the opera’s iconic prelude and the entrance of the gods into Valhalla were particularly effective), though often leaving the production vulnerable to the trappings of glitchy execution. The depiction of Alberich’s transformations in particularly were missed opportunities. The work of costume designer Matt Logan and wig and makeup designer Sondra Nottingham further promoted an atmosphere of ostentatious decadence without adhering to a cohesive aesthetic. Their work, to be certain, is visually striking and kept the eye entertained.

As heard on Sunday May 8^th, the musical values made a stronger case for the piece. Though the score was reduced for a 64-member orchestra through an arrangement by Eberhard Kloke, it was ably managed by the orderly baton of maestro Dean Williamson, who’s musical direction was singer conscious, functional, and managed to deliver a well performed (if not terribly poetic) reading without major mishaps. The testing assignment was further complicated by various covid mitigation best practices which found the conductor and several members of the orchestra fully masked through the run of the afternoon.  Maestro Williamson was fortunate to have at his disposal an exciting group of American talent that was able to bring the performance to life.

The introductory scene depicting the Nibelung’s theft of the Rhein’s magical gold guarded by the Rheinmaidens got the evening off to a promising start through the singing of three big-voiced sirens portrayed by soprano Jessie Neilson as Woglinde, mezzo-soprano Danielle MacMillan as Wellgunde and contralto Valerie Nelson as Flosshilde.  Though the stage direction broke little ground in depicting these water-bound mythical creatures (swimming was implied through traditionally simple arm gestures) the trio managed to distinguish their personalities vividly through vocal means. The scene was further graced by the Alberich of baritone Samuel Weiser. An artist previously unknown to us, he revealed a fully formed portrayal of the opera’s complex antagonist. The instrument is ample and produced without apparent effort, and he had a comfortable grasp on the technical trickery to wield it from growl to whisper. This rendered it serviceable to Mr. Weiser’s artistic compass, which was acutely sensitive to the disparate motivations driving our villain. Judging by the ovation which greeted his curtain calls, Mr. Weiser managed to inspire sympathy for miserable old Alberich and provided the standout performance of the afternoon.

The realm of the gods brought further luminaries with the introduction of mezzo-soprano Renee Tatum’s deliciously sung Fricka. Having put us on notice last November through her starry portrayal of Cornelia in The Atlanta Opera’s production of Handel’s Giulio Cesare, Ms. Tatum distinguished her reading of Valhalla’s desperate housewife through large scale singing. What was heard in Atlanta was no accident, and here once again was a firm, healthy mezzo-soprano distinguished by an even scale and firmness tone. She was faithful to Wagner’s musical demands, and her instrument will frown, flinch, beseech and demand at will. She was well matched by the opera’s central figure, the god Wotan, played here for the first time by baritone Lester Lynch. The profile of this instrument has a Verdian, late bel canto edge, and it qualifies Mr. Lynch for the assignment: It was certainly an admirable first reading. The voice is large, warm and responsive to the demands on the score, though in mild contrast to Ms. Tatum, it can become unsteady under pressure. Mr. Lynch’s portrayal is that of a younger, more absent-minded husband who makes the crucial decisions that keep the pages turning yet seems apprehensive to lead. It made Wotan’s dependence on Loge in Das Rheingold the more believable.

That assignment was entrusted to tenor Corey Bix, who, like Mr. Lynch, essays the part for the first time with these performances. We have witnessed Mr. Bix’s development through the years, first as a young Florestan in Utah Opera’s production of Beethoven’s Fidelio, Aegisthus in Des Moines Metro Opera’s production of Strauss’ Elektra and a last-minute replacement for Brian Hymel as Aeneas in Berlioz’s Les Troyens at San Francisco Opera, all in the early 2010s. Though a Loge of promise, Mr. Bix’s dramatic portrayal could benefit from greater development. A tenor of uncommonly tall stature, he easily maintains the audience’s attention which can be a double edge sword: Once you’re noticed, you must convince. A certain guarded quality rendered his stage actions an air of interpolation, and while the cunning side of Loge was heavily feature by the direction, the parallels with Alberich (a reject who acts out versus a reject who wishes he could) were mostly underplayed. This is a significant caveat when taking into consideration that Das Rheingold provides the only opportunity to flesh out Loge’s character in Wagner’s Ring Cycle. Mr. Bix overcame these shortcomings through vocal means, and despite some unsteadiness of pitch heard on Sunday afternoon’s performance, he possesses the vocal pedigree to develop into a promising Loge. His tenor is large, appealing in tone, and capable of negotiating the rhythmic and tempo changes admirably, all the while remaining responsive to the text.

The casting of popular soprano Othalie Graham as the goddess Freia added great interest to the proceedings. The artist’s reputation has kept her in our radar, though we have been unable to cross paths due to various circumstances until now. This first hearing of Ms. Graham’s art confirms the rumors: this is no vocal wallflower. Whenever her participation was required, she took full advantage of the character’s position to vocally embody the Freia’s distress, appropriately threatening to break through the acoustic sleeve at her every outburst. The voice itself is a large, bright soprano which travels both wide and forward, and can get a little wild if not carefully checked. A quick glance at her repertoire list reveals her tackling some of the big ladies in the standard rep, raising our urgency to sample her art in more extensive roles. Ms. Graham’s Freia was bravely defended by the noble tones of tenor Tyler Nelson’s Froh and the physically striking Donner of baritone Joshua Jeremiah.

The giant delegation was well served through the Fasolt of bass Ricardo Lugo and the Fafner of bass Matthew Burns. Unlike his grumpier sibling, Fasolt only appears in Das Rheingold, but limitations are opportunities to Mr. Lugo, who rose to the occasion and revealed a fully fleshed out character through his alert and sympathetic bass. The other sibling featured in Das Rheingold, Alberich’s brother Mime, was luxuriously realized through the work of veteran artist Allan Glassman. As his clarion tenor skated through the fits and starts of Mime’s zany phrases, we recalled our own memories of his Faust back in 1995. Incredibly, the span of nearly 30 years has done little to diminish the size and steady delivery of his instrument, which remains within his complete control. No discussion of a Das Rheingold performance can be complete without mention of the afternoon’s Erda. Gwendolyn Brown, a member of the nowadays rare contralto family, answered the call admirably. Though Erda’s endless legato phrases proved a source of discomfort at times, it is indeed a rare treat to feel the foundation of the auditorium rattle as a contralto descends into the lower reaches of her tessitura. Hers is a voice that begs a second hearing, if perhaps in different repertoire.

For those who balance pandemic concerns when considering attending these types of events (hands raised), mitigation practices at Fischer Center for the Performing Arts welcome the use of masks, though there is no requirement to do so. Throughout the auditorium, some masks were spotted though the majority did without. From our vantage point, several members of the orchestra as well as maestro Williamson sported masks throughout the performance. Audiences remain mostly quiet through Das Rheingold, and that helped when addressing instances of anxiety. During the ovations that greeted the curtain calls, we stepped to the exit in order to avoid direct exposure to the rowdier air currents. If pandemic concerns are keeping you out of the theater, consider choosing an area of the auditorium that has not sold well and is sparsely populated. Everyone is in different mental and emotional planes when dealing with this topic, and we recommend that you be patient with yourself. Plan ahead of time and take whatever strategic measures you deem necessary to have a safe and gratifying evening at the theater. You can make it work for you.

Sunday afternoon’s presentation of Wagner’s Das Rheingold closed the Nashville Opera 2021-22 season. Though company has made no official statement whether it will follow up with subsequent productions of the remaining operas in Wagner’s Ring Cycle, we choose to keep the hope alive. To obsessively keep track of this situation, or to stay up to date on all things Nashville Opera, please visit the company’s website at www.nashvilleopera.org

-Daniel Vasquez