Antony Walker / Reviews

GRAMMY-nominated composer and Pulitzer Prize finalist Christopher Cerrone's new opera In a Grove, featuring a libretto by Stephanie Fleischmann, will receive its world premiere performances by Pittsburgh Opera from February 19 - March 3, 2022. Commissioned by the Los Angeles Opera with additional support from Raulee Marcus and Stephen Block, Pittsburgh Opera, and Metropolis Ensemble, In a Grove is based on a short story of the same name by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa and follows seven witness testimonies to a murder, each clashing in perspective, offering a searing investigation into the impossibility and elusiveness of truth. LA Opera will present the west coast premiere of In a Grove in a future season. Sited within a ghost forest in the Pacific Northwest in 1922, the opera unfolds within a barren, haunted landscape devastated by wildfire. Into a terrain of broken dreams, marred by violence and obfuscated by smoke, comes a young woman who upends conventional notions of gender and narratives of victimhood, claiming agency for herself. Transpiring within a frontier territory driven by class struggle and fear of the other, this retelling of Akutagawa's tale-famously adapted as the film Rashomon-manifests a world in which the environment is under siege, and wildly veering personal truths vie with absolute fact, shattering what one thinks they know. Four singers are double cast, each assuming the character of both witness to and participant in the crime. A medium communicates with the ghost of the victim, straddling the thin line between the living and the dead, with no more access to the truth than anyone else. Electronic vocal processing will be used as characters speak for others, altering the facts, whether via blurrings of memory or intention. The Pittsburgh Opera cast includes Yazid Gray as The Woodcutter and The Outlaw (Luther Harlow), Andrew Turner as Policeman and The Man (Ambrose Raines), Madeline Ehlinger as Leona Raines and Leona's Mother, and Chuanyuan Liu as the Priest and the Medium. Nine instrumentalists, accompanied by a bed of site-reactive electronics, also function as characters, or facets of them, each in concert with a different testimonial. Christopher Cerrone discovered Akutagawa's short story In a Grove in the fall of 2014 while beginning to research a follow-up to his 2013 opera, Invisible Cities, which was a 2014 Pulitzer Prize Finalist for Music. He explains, "In Akutagawa's story, I found a complex and multifaceted tale where the whole notion of objective truth was impossible; we, the readers, are left to decide for ourselves what happened. I thought this story, with its unique structure, would make the perfect opera. The shifting perspectives and changing repetitions of a single event would allow me to use the language of music to create an opera where the events are told and retold in pristine emotional detail; where the shifting and faulty memory of characters can be reinforced by vocal distortion and reverb." ADVERTISING Cerrone continues, "Having been introduced to Stephanie Fleischmann's lyrical and impactful libretti, I enlisted her to join the project. She brought a new nuance and complexity to the story - coloring in the details of our characters' lives. Now set in the Pacific Northwest in the rubble of a wildfire, our adaptation - a feminist retelling - focuses on the tragedy of conflicting personal truths. Every main character confesses to the murder of a man named Ambrose (a nod to the American writer Ambrose Bierce, an inspiration to Akutagawa); it is their inability to communicate with one another that drives the engine of the opera's conflict. As the subsequent years have passed, our society feels at a precipice where basic facts can no longer be agreed upon. As a result, the tale of this opera feels increasingly urgent." The shifting viewpoints of Akutagawa's classic short story lend themselves eloquently to music's ability to conjure, via repetition and variation, the ways human perception is fallible, imprecise, and subject to interference. Characterized by a subtle handling of timbre and resonance, composer Christopher Cerrone's music balances lushness and austerity, immersive textures, and telling details. This dynamic new adaptation melds the dramatic impact and interiority of Cerrone's unique voice with librettist Stephanie Fleischmann's charged, poetic text to produce a powerful interrogation into how we see, hear, remember, and believe. Director Mary Birnbaum's concept for In a Grove takes inspiration from James Turrell and Fujiko Nakaya, artists whose work renders subtle changes in perception: Viewers will enter a space already activated, via sound, light and fog - a tool used to obscure, to manipulate, perspicacity. Designed to inhabit a relatively intimate black box, the environment will feel as if it is progressively closing in around the audience, drawing them into the metaphysical space of the grove, a place where the ground shifts beneath their feet. This is a space of ambiguity and clarity, of beauty and menace, fragility and strength - in which a visceral sense of immediacy is amplified by the shifting psychic terrain and vast emotional space of the music.

Pittsburgh Opera has announced that it will stage the world premiere of Christopher Cerrone and Stephanie Fleischmann’s opera “In a Grove.” “In a Grove” is based on a short story of the same name by Ryūnosuke Akutagawa and follows seven witness testimonies to a murder, each clashing in perspective; the work is famously the inspiration for Akira Kurosawa’s legendary 1950 film “Rashomon.” The opera has been commissioned by the Los Angeles Opera with additional support from Raulee Marcus and Stephen Block, Pittsburgh Opera, and Metropolis Ensemble. The cast includes Yazid Gray as The Woodcutter and The Outlaw (Luther Harlow), Andrew Turner as Policeman and The Man (Ambrose Raines), Madeline Ehlinger as Leona Raines and Leona’s Mother, and Chuanyuan Liu as the Priest and the Medium. Antony Walker conducts a production by Mary Birnbaum. “In Akutagawa’s story, I found a complex and multifaceted tale where the whole notion of objective truth was impossible; we, the readers, are left to decide for ourselves what happened. I thought this story, with its unique structure, would make the perfect opera. The shifting perspectives and changing repetitions of a single event would allow me to use the language of music to create an opera where the events are told and retold in pristine emotional detail; where the shifting and faulty memory of characters can be reinforced by vocal distortion and reverb,” said composer Christopher Cerrone in an official press statement. “Having been introduced to Stephanie Fleischmann’s lyrical and impactful libretti, I enlisted her to join the project. She brought a new nuance and complexity to the story – coloring in the details of our characters’ lives. Now set in the Pacific Northwest in the rubble of a wildfire, our adaptation – a feminist retelling – focuses on the tragedy of conflicting personal truths. Every main character confesses to the murder of a man named Ambrose (a nod to the American writer Ambrose Bierce, an inspiration to Akutagawa); it is their inability to communicate with one another that drives the engine of the opera’s conflict. As the subsequent years have passed, our society feels at a precipice where basic facts can no longer be agreed upon. As a result, the tale of this opera feels increasingly urgent,” added Cerrone.

“Aida” is set in ancient Eqypt and is most famous for the spectacle of the “Triumphal Scene,” in which the Egyptian army returns victorious — with prisoners and spoils of war — after having beaten the Ethiopian army. Latonia Moore commanded the stage as “Aida,” a role she's performed at the Metropolitan Opera in New York City. He voice is lustrous and smooth on top, and has an emotional tinge even at the ends of phrases that taper quietly. Her lowest register was dry at first, but velvety long before the exquisite tomb scene. The soprano's power was thrilling to experience, both in solos and in big scenes. She also acted extremely well. All in all, an unforgettable company debut. Tenor Carl Tanner, also making his debut, was an uncommonly strong Radames, the Egyptian general in love with Aida but desired by Amernis, daughter of Egypt's king. Elizabeth Bishop gave an excellent portrayal of Amneris, one that generated real sympathy for her situation. Her powerful mezzo had the steel for a daughter of the king, and she controlled it with mastery that was nuanced to her changing moods — stong-willed, conflicted, cunning and vulnerable. Oren Gradus sang very well as Ramfis, the high priest, offering strength and dignity. Phillip Gay as the King and Jasmine Muhammad as the High Priestess were both effective. Walker led a wonderfully dramatic performance — well-paced, colorful and beautiful together in ensemble. Delicate moments were all the more magical for being precisely defined. He also let the orchestra and chorus rip at the right moments, which contributed to the sweep of the performance. This made Moore's ability to ride the climaxes all the more impressive. The orchestra was outstanding, apart from one bad chord at the end of the prelude. The string section had remarkable tonal character and cohesion. Wind solos, including piccolo, were keenly drawn. The brass, and especially trumpets, have a big role in this opera, and played magnificently. Timpani and bass drum also stepped up to Walker's scale of sonority for this opera.

The opera that I attended on opening night was astonishing. The orchestra played relaxingly and mellifluously to the ear. The setting to Giuseppe Verdi’s version of “Aida” was located in Egypt. Aida played by Latonia Moore, was a gorgeous Ethiopian servant to Amneris from Egypt and also a princess. The tone of the opening act was quite calm.The costumes used in the Opera fit perfectly to the Egyptian times of warriors, kings, queens and slaves. I remember sitting there as the opera began and seeing 4 guards who at the time, I thought were statues but were not. So the make-up, lighting and poise of the cast were quintessential! Now I don’t know if I was so amazed by the opera singing because of the divine voices or because I never heard opera before, which gave it some perks but the voice of the main characters were astounding. Amonasro played by Lester Lynch, had a very compelling, vigorous tone. Aida played by Latonia Moore had a melodious sweet sound. The opera itself was very dramatic. Between the love triangle and having to imagine choosing between my father and the love of my life how Aida did in this melodrama made it very emotional. I actually found myself getting teary eyed towards the final ‘hours’ of Aida and Radames' life

“The Rake's Progress” was presented in the celebrated David Hockney production, which was created in 1975. Pittsburgh Opera acquired the production for merely the cost of trucking it from San Francisco Opera. Stravinsky and librettists W.H. Auden and Chester Kallman were inspired to create the opera by a series of engravings by William Hogarth. Hockney seized on that visual style to create his set, costumes and wigs with cross-hatching line drawing. Although more than 40 years old, Hockney's production belies its age. It's physically in great shape, looking bright, crisp and clean. Tenor Alek Shrader brought much more than good looks to playing Tom Rakewell. He developed the role with knowing details of characterization as it moves from a naive and self-centered young man to one who's beaten down by his follies and is ultimately a person whose fate moves us deeply. He sang with authority and admirably clear definition, as well as small modification of tonal color depending on the dramatic context. Soprano Layla Claire was the thoroughly winning Anne Truelove, who is left behind by Tom when he goes to squander an inheritance in London. She shaped her lines with a gloriously open and fluid top register, and in addition to the sheer beauty of her singing, Claire found ways to give her character more human dimension than it often receives. The three smaller roles were well handled, too. Wei Wu brought the right degree of stuffiness to father Truelove, although he was sometimes underpowered. Keith Jameson offered a well defined and well sung Sellem, who runs the auction when the property of Rakewell and his wife is being sold to pay off his debt. Finally, Matthew Scollin combined the wonderful depth of his voice with unflappable dignity as the Keeper of the Madhouse to which Rakewell is confined at the end of the opera and his life. Walker prepared the Opera Orchestra extremely well. Stravinsky's writing is tricky in many ways, but the musicians played it with surprising assurance, especially for a first performance. However, Walker chose to employ a more legato style than Stravinsky preferred, which is a separate issue from articulation in fast passages that will presumably tighten over the run of performances.

“The Rake’s Progress” is a product of Stravinsky’s “neoclassical” period, in which the composer assimilated older styles and made them his own. He used an 18th-century orchestra, including harpsichord, with clear divisions between musical numbers and recitative. But he didn’t limit himself to the 18th century. The heroine’s big scene is a Bellinian cavatina ending with a showy fast caballetta, while her lullaby to the dying Tom is cast in the form of a medieval motet. And Stravinsky liked to fool the listener by taking his melodies in unexpected directions, and placing accents on the wrong syllables, creating a topsy-turvy musical world to match the plot. On opening night, conductor Antony Walker kept his vocal and instrumental forces together with admirable proficiency, while stage director Roy Rallo elicited dexterous movement from the eager, animated cast. In the title part, Alek Shrader combined boyish naivete with a callousness that made his eventual plight appropriately inevitable. His smallish tenor, pleasant and well produced, did not, however, project consistently through the theater – often at the expense of the words (and the supertitles were not always in sync). Layla Claire was a spunky and physically beautiful Anne, though her warm soprano tended to turn strident on her top notes, and she seemed uncomfortable with the craggy coloratura of her virtuoso solo turn. The best singing, and also the most vivid characterizations, came from the two veterans in the cast. David Pittsinger used his resonant bass-baritone sound and seasoned stage skills to his advantage as the slimy Shadow. Jill Grove played Baba the Turk – the bearded lady at a glimpse of whom brave warriors swooned – with relish and braggadocio. She manipulated her voluminous deep mezzo-soprano for comic effect, adjusting her vocal coloration to affect sympathy when giving advice to the disconsolate Anne. In the briefer but still juicy role of Mother Goose, younger mezzo Laurel Semerdjian, a resident artist, sang strongly and played the madam of the brothel with a spirit of fun. Keith Jameson, whose pungent tenor had more carrying power than Shrader’s, delivered the delightful auctioneer’s scene with gusto and comic flair. Basso Wei Wu showed promise and comfortable stage demeanor as Trulove, Anne’s hapless father.

Soprano Patricia Racette gave a thrilling portrayal of Princess Salome, embracing in her own way the most outrageous aspects of the role, and was supported by a strong cast. The most striking aspect of Antony Walker's conducting was his balances between voices and orchestra, which let every word be heard. Salome is a teen princess in Judea, ruled by her father-in-law Herod and his wife, Herodias. Strauss's music brilliantly captures the obsessive and lustful air of the Herod's court, as well as the goodness of Jochanaan, John the Baptist, who is being held captive by Herod. Racette created a brilliantly textured picture of Salome, both privileged by rank and oppressed by the world she lives in. Her curiosity with Jochanaan grows by steps to fascination and obsession. The soprano sang with ample power, and would no doubt have been able to ride over a louder orchestra. She encompassed the part's wide range, including the demanding lowest register, and also had the nuance to vocally color insinuation, charm and ecstasy. Her Dance of the Seven Veils, created with choreographer Michele de la Reza of Attack Theatre, went against type because it mostly wasn't directed at Herod, for whom it was supposedly being performed. Most of this Salome's Dance was about her feelings, and was accompanied by three male dancers. At the end Racette turned fully naked to Herod, and then turned her back on him to face the audience before covering up. Baritone Nmon Ford was outstanding as Jochanaan. His opening lines were surprisingly powerful, sung as they were from under the stage in the cistern. But he sang with resonant dignity throughout. He was also much less stiff physically than most Jochanaans. Robert Brubaker as Herod and Micaela Martens as Herodias both sang well and roused themselves to requisite nastiness at times, but neither created a particularly vivid presence. The production was mostly traditional except that the soldiers carried knives rather than swords and shields. In this production Salome is killed by knife stabbing although the music's final rhythms suggest an even more brutal death.

With the unfortunate absence of the Pittsburgh Symphony this season, the excellent playing by the Opera orchestra was a reminder of how good this city’s second orchestra can be when it’s at its best. From the opening clarinet solo to the gigantic outpouring of Salome’s final declaration of love to the severed head of Jochanaan (John the Baptist), music director Antony Walker elicited taut, mostly accurate playing that enveloped the ear with magnificent floods of sound. Andrew Sinclair’s staging, on a workable set by Boyd Ostroff, contained some miscalculations that were at odds with the words and the printed directions – notably at the end, Salome merely stabbed from behind, rather than crushed beneath the soldiers’ shields – but the total effect of the show was quite overpowering. It was an evening of excellent tenors. Jonathan Boyd’s bright-tones were just right for Narraboth, the handsome young soldier who kills himself when Salome ignores his amorous advances. Robert Brubaker’s drier but penetrating sound was ideal for the lecherous, demented Herod. In the important, intricate quintet of Jews arguing over details of law, Michael Papincak, James Flora, Adam Bonanni and Eric Ferring (joined by bass Andy Berry) negotiated the knotty musical texture with an admirable degree of accuracy. Mezzo-soprano Michaela Martens was insufficiently imposing in voice or bearing as the evil Herodias, but resident artist Leah de Gruyl’s solid low register was impressive in the brief part of the Page, futilely in love with Narraboth. Brian Vu’s pleasant baritone was another asset in the melodious solo lines of the Second Nazarene.

Pittsburgh Opera expended its best efforts on this production, and audience reception at the premiere on April 29, with Gibson’s great-grandson in attendance, was far more positive and enthusiastic than is usual here for a new or unfamiliar work. The Summer King is a compelling theatrical experience and a serious, thought-provoking addition to the repertory. There are some weaknesses, mostly in the libretto. While the action moves swiftly in a cinematic succession of flashback scenes, some segments go on a little too long, and there is a confusing assortment of supporting characters, several taken by a single singer. The final scenes, following the protagonist’s death are anticlimactic, detracting from the impact of the situation. The score is quite strong. Sonenberg’s eclectic aural landscape incorporates jazz, ragtime, swing, even extending to mariachi in a scene where Gibson goes to Mexico to play for the Veracruz Azules. Sonenberg’s vocal writing is demanding—he favors extremes of the range—but almost always idiomatic and gratifying. Alfred Walker sang colorfully in the leading role of Josh Gibson, capturing the player’s contrasting sides while swinging a bat with ease and confidence. In an aria that describes his wife’s death in childbirth and his determination to concentrate only on “the game,” the versatile baritone expressed the gamut of feelings, later managing to convey the less likable aspects of his character. Veteran mezzo Denyce Graves, as Josh’s girlfriend Grace, stole the show every moment she was onstage. At fifty-three, her low range remains a grand phenomenon, although her high notes are not quite in the same realm of richness. But that’s irrelevant given the way Graves illuminates the stage and makes her audience feel that she is making direct one-on-one contact with each of them. Her solo turn, in which Grace laments the dreary life she must return to when she leaves Josh, brought the emotional level of the show to its highest point. The sheer beauty of Sean Panikkar’s tenor sound enhanced the role of Wendell Smith, the journalist from Pittsburgh’s black newspaper, The Courier, and this most appealing artist made the most of every word and phrase in a memorable solo about “lightning,” the quality that sets Josh apart from the others. That scene has a counterpart in Act II, when Josh’s friend Sam, movingly portrayed by dark-toned basso profundo Kenneth Kellogg, compares Josh to Moses, “the Summer King,” who led his people to the Promised Land but could not enter it. Jacqueline Echols sounded shrill but was touching as Helen, Josh’s ill-fated wife; Jasmine Muhammad was fetching in both sound and presence as the coquettish Hattie. Multiple smaller parts were handled with expertise by tenors Martin Bakari, Norman Shankle and Raymond Very, along with resonant bass-baritone Phillip Gay.

Pittsburgh Opera has given its all to this show: a multi-racial chorus and large cast in which each principal is individually excellent but fits into the dramatic scheme, superb musical realization under Antony Walker, scenic designs by Andrew Lieberman that allow flash changes, and direction by Sam Helfrich that moves the action fleetly to its inevitable ill-fated conclusion. In the title role of Gibson, baritone Alfred Walker swings a bat with the same ease and naturalness that allows him to manipulate his burly, resounding baritone voice. He can be tender in a love duet with his young wife Helen (bright and edgy coloratura Jacqueline Echols), heartbreaking in an aria describing her death during childbirth, and yet, in the second act, elicit the viewer’s admonition for the character’s dissolution and self-destructive behavior. Portraying Gibson’s girlfriend Grace, Denyce Graves at 53 retains the booming chest tones and riveting persona that made her Carmen and Dalila world-class enactments for more than two decades. When this woman is on the stage, everything around her disappears into her own luminosity. The third principal, honey-voiced tenor Sean Panikkar, plays Courier journalist Wendell Smith, who describes Gibson’s gift as “lightening” – a quality that each of these three singers possesses in abundance. Deep-voiced bass Kenneth Kellogg is an asset as Gibson’s sympathetic friend, Sam Bankhead, while Jasmine Muhammad’s luscious soprano enhances the lines afforded to the flirtatious Hattie. In multiple assignments of smaller parts, high tenors Norman Shankle and Martin Bakari, dramatic tenor Ray Very and bass Phillip Gay all do yeomen’s work, although the proliferation of humanity that surrounds the opera’s central figure is too often overwhelming.

Austin’s vocal unsteadiness seemed to unnerve the Cio-Cio San, Dina Kuznetsova, who was making her Pittsburgh Opera debut in this production; she had a rough first act with high notes that went wildly askew. However, her total control of the rich middle of her voice never faltered, and her exquisite pianissimos were stunning, carrying effortlessly through the theater. It is hard to imagine a lovelier sound than hers in the brief passage where Butterfly entrusts her son to Pinkerton’s American wife. The carefully conceived, detailed characterization of the young Japanese girl’s plight culminated in a devastating performance of her final aria, ‘Tu? Tu? Piccolo iddio!’ The roles of Suzuki and Sharpless took on greater importance than is the norm, and Laurel Semerdjian and Michael Mayes turned in top-notch performances. Semerdjian’s Suzuki was sensitively acted and very well sung, her lovely mezzo-soprano blending perfectly with Kuznetsova’s voice in the Flower Duet. Mayes made a powerful impact as the US consul who is increasingly dismayed over his fellow American’s callous, self-indulgent indifference to the plight of his fifteen-year-old bride. With Sharpless’ vocal lines exposed, Mayes showed off his tightly focused baritone to its full advantage. The supporting roles were also strongly cast, and the singers went about their business as if nothing was amiss. Julius Ahn’s Goro was all obsequious, self-serving efficiency, vividly acted and sung. Brian Kontes’ bass boomed as he raged at his niece’s abandonment of her traditional gods and conversion to Christianity in her attempt to become a true wife to Pinkerton. Two fine baritones, Ben Taylor and Tyler Zimmerman, both Pittsburgh Opera Resident Artists, sang the roles of Prince Yamadori and the Imperial Commissioner. Another of the company’s young artists, Antonia Botti-Lodovico, accomplished the impossible, turning Kate Pinkerton into an almost sympathetic character by the end of her short time on stage. There were a few ragged entrances from the chorus and coordination problems with the orchestra in the first act. Like the rest of us, conductor Anthony Walker must have been wondering what would come next from Austin’s Pinkerton. Once settled, Walker turned in a carefully sculpted performance, with the Humming Chorus and the orchestral interlude that followed one of the musical highlights of the evening.

Linda Brovsky directed this straightforward but affecting production, with smaller details selling the show. Falling flower petals at key moments and Pinkerton’s son saluting him after the Butterfly’s death were particularly evocative. Conductor Antony Walker kept singers and instrumentalists exactly together while allowing Puccini’s more indulgent lines to breathe. Making her Pittsburgh Opera debut as Cio-Cio-San (the Butterfly) was Russian-American soprano Dina Kuznetsova, who delivered her arias with inspired legato, tapering the ends of each phrase with finely polished lyricism. She plucked each pitch out of thin air, seemingly effortlessly, with a penetrating but soft tone that caressed the ear and carried through to the back of the Benedum. Her counterpart, Cody Austin, brought a bright but undersized tenor to the role of Lt. Pinkerton, his performance strengthening after the first act. Mr. Austin played Pinkerton as a straight but unwitting villain — contrasting coldly with Michael Mayes’ Sharpless (the America consul in Japan), who recognizes the amorality of Pinkerton’s actions but does nothing. Mr. Mayes brought depth but no agency to this incarnation of Sharpless, his rich baritone ringing a touch hollow in the face of Pinkerton’s betrayal. Laurel Semerdjian as Suzuki — Cio-Cio-San’s maid — immediately stood out as one of the strongest voices, a forceful, plush mezzo bringing emotional heft to the production. John Gunter’s set, an open house on the coast of Nagasaki, tilted jauntily to keep each character in view regardless of placement, felt static. The house occupied nearly the full stage, so characters and chorus members seemed crammed to the side. The pacing mostly clipped along but dipped at the end of the second act as Cio-Cio-San prepares and waits for Pinkerton to return. Overall, a strong production of “Butterfly.” This opera is a window into another more troubling time, yet it remains one of the most popular operas in the repertoire. It sells tickets to be sure — the Benedum looked quite full — but the portrayals of Japanese culture are dated. Still, in today’s charged climate, discussing the differences between the time of “Butterfly” and now can make ripe fodder for post-show conversation, whether you’ve seen it once or a hundred times.

Sarah Delaney Boyle created a set that summoned the splendors associated with Baroque opera. Massive gold towers and a sweeping garland made from the armor and weapons of the knights who had fallen for Alcina’s charms dominated the stage, while an orb suspended from above was the source of her magical powers. Caitlin Gotimer as Alcina triumphed, capturing the myriad emotions of the sorceress in a performance that was as vivid dramatically as it was vocally. Apart from a few high notes that were off the mark, she sang Handel’s vocal lines with sensitive phrasing and tasteful ornamentation. Equally winning, and perhaps just a little more delicious in her pert, enchanting characterization of Morgana, was soprano Natasha Wilson. The sparkle in her voice and eyes made Morgana more vixen than temptress, and every moment she was on stage was a pleasure. Antony Walker, the company’s music director, led a brisk, exciting performance by an ensemble drawn from the Pittsburgh Opera Orchestra augmented by Chatham Baroque, a trio made up of Andrew Fouts (violin), Patricia Halverson (viola da gamba) and Scott Pauley (theorbo). In addition to performing as a trio, Chatham Baroque regularly collaborates with guest instrumentalists and vocalists in historically informed concerts of early music. Fouts served as concert master, providing bite and flourish to the ensemble with his incisive bowing, while Halverson and Pauley, joined by Mark Trawka on the harpsichord, provided the continuo. The trio of continuo players provided color, texture and depth to the musical fabric, especially Trawka’s judicious use of the lute stop on the harpsichord. Chief among the musical delights were the dulcet tones of the recorders and the excellent horn playing in the second part.

Chatham Ba­roque, Pitts­burgh’s early mu­sic en­sem­ble, bol­stered the Pitts­burgh Opera or­ches­tra to pro­vide sup­port and a more his­tor­i­cally in­formed ap­proach to the score. This col­lab­o­ra­tive en­sem­ble of about 25 play­ers, led by mu­sic di­rec­tor Ant­ony Walker, sounded well-matched on Satur­day, lux­u­ri­ant in some of the slower arias and swoop­ing and stir­ring in some of the more rous­ing tunes. A small note — the dry acous­tics of the CAPA au­di­to­rium made some ends of phrases sound abrupt; more ta­per on rest­ing notes might ease this is­sue. An­to­nia Botti-Lo­dovico was ob­nox­iously pet­u­lant in the pants role (a woman play­ing a man) of the en­chanted Rug­ge­rio. She con­vinc­ingly por­trayed his arc of re­demp­tion back to a more he­roic bear­ing and was a high­light in the sec­ond act aria “Verdi prati.” So­prano Cait­lin Go­timer as Al­cina was en­chant­ing as she moved from all-pow­er­ful witch to jilted lover, achiev­ing a piti­able sense of wretch­ed­ness in her later arias with a fraught, ex­cit­able tone. The set by Sarah Delaney Boyle ap­peared a touch cramped at the out­set but brought Al­cina’s is­land to life with ter­ri­ble gran­deur. Cos­tum­ing by Ja­son Bray was well-planned and played a vi­sual role in the char­ac­ters’ in­di­vid­ual pro­gres­sions, as did the richly var­ied light­ing by Nate Wheat­ley. As for the sing­ers and their or­na­men­ta­tion, Ms. Wil­son and Mr. Romero seemed to take to this nat­u­rally, and the oth­ers suc­ceeded to vary­ing de­grees. This isn’t ba­roque op­era as it would have been heard in the 1700s, but for an eve­ning on the town in Pitts­burgh, it’s a charm­ing win­dow to an­other style of op­era and a fine eve­ning’s en­ter­tain­ment.

When someone mentions Charlie Parker, it’s jazz music, not opera, that springs to mind. Pittsburgh Opera gave his story new life in its in-person production of “Charlie Parker’s Yardbird” Saturday at the company’s Strip District headquarters. The opera, which is heavily influenced by jazz, delves into weighty issues of racial inequality, substance abuse and the legacy of bebop’s co-creator. Tru Verret-Fleming, is a smooth mover, sliding in and out of scenes wordlessly and always at times when “Bird” feels the urge to use heroin. Lighting designer Todd Nonn flashes the lights a sickly color as Parker, played by Martin Bakari, clutches his arm. The audience doesn’t need any further explanation. Bakari tackles the taxing marathon role of “Bird” without missing a beat. Through the character of Charlie’s mother, Addie (Jasmine Muhammed), and first wife Rebecca (Chrystal E. Williams), the opera explores the tough choices faced by Black mothers. One of the best parts of the whole night was an energetic counterpoint between Muhammed and Bakari as the characters argued over “Bird” staying in Kansas City or moving to New York. The ending is powerful. Maire Therese Carmack as the Baroness de Koenigswarter has a beautifully rich tone, lamenting that “Bird” is gone. The entire cast comes together to mourn his passing, and Bakari provides the right sense of poignant discovery for the opera’s final moments. Despite its relatively brisk 90-minute running time, “Charlie Parker’s Yardbird” is a difficult opera for so many reasons. Musically, the cast is put to the test in unusual, jazzy passages requiring top range. Thematically, it doesn’t shy away from the hot-button issues of Parker’s life that remain relevant today. In this production, the vocalists met the challenge through masks, and characters’ joy, heartache and acceptance feel earned. “Yardbird” has its moments, but in the end, it soars.

Martin Bakari captured the genius, lost soul and lover in Parker. His is a golden, lyric tenor that was shown to its best advantage in an epilogue that begins with the words ‘I know why a caged bird sings’, a line from Paul Laurence Dunbar’s poem ‘Sympathy’. Jasmine Muhammad was a powerhouse as Addie, Parker’s mother. Her voice was solid from top to bottom, as was the pride and dignity with which she carried herself. Equally impressive was Chrystal E. Williams as Rebecca, Parker’s first wife, whom he married when he was fifteen and she three years older. At the end of the opera, Williams was heartbreaking when she sang bitterly that her husband abandoned her and their children for such a place as Birdland, the Manhattan jazz club where he was a headliner. With vibrant sound and presence, Madeline Ehlinger brought to life Doris Parker, a former hat-check girl who used her husband’s memory to fight drug addiction. Véronique Filloux’s Chan Parker, his common-law-wife at the time of his death, was all flounces and feathers, a perfect fit with her sparkling lyric soprano. As Baroness Nica, Maire Therese Carmack’s voice, a stand-up-and-take-notice, dark, commanding mezzo-soprano, made you do just that. Yazid Gray has a beautiful, velvety voice. His Dizzy Gillespie was good natured and easy going, the perfect foil for Bakari’s high-strung Parker. Tru Verret-Fleming moved silently throughout the action as Moose the Mooche, observing and commenting on the action without singing a word. The opera was staged in Pittsburgh Opera’s headquarters, as was its delightful production of Così fan tutte last fall. The set was minimal, and the direction tight and coherent. Challenging acoustics are the name of the game for the foreseeable future. Pittsburgh Opera is producing live opera with an audience, and you can’t find that in many places at moment. That alone made Charlie Parker’s Yardbird a must-see. Its fine cast was the icing on the cake.