Frühere Produktionsrezensionen
6“The Long Walk” refers to a soldier’s walk towards a live explosion, as well as his psychological journey home after the war. The two-act opera is based on Iraq war veteran Brian Castner’s written account of his time in the military’s Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) unit and his tortured reintegration into civilian and family life. Mr. Beck’s score is taut and energetic, cuing the audience between Iraq flashbacks and suburban life in Buffalo, N.Y., with simple but effective instrumental gestures. Electric guitars conjure a gritty desert feel, while slide whistles often accompany the Castner’s three rambunctious boy children’s mischief, etc. Balance between the small orchestra and onstage action was mostly good, but at times the orchestra was a bit loud and obscured the singers. This was most noticeable in Mr. Taylor’s opening minutes and whenever the trio of his three sons sang. Sets and stage direction also proved stellar, with set designer Katy Fetrow’s minimalist nods to the opera’s 15 different locales set starkly against a sandy backdrop with a monolithic, spiraling concrete structure that suggested a “bunker” or perhaps “nose cone.” Resident artist Frances Rabalais’ stage direction kept the mayhem crystal clear, propelling the piece with a sense of narrative momentum and intermittent moments of pathos despite the jumbled, fractured nature of Mr. Castner’s writings and the libretto adaptation. The most poignant scene featured Mr. Taylor helping his son with hockey pads while his EOD brothers dress one of their own in 80 pounds of Kevlar for the long walk, taken only “for your brother, for your brother’s children, for your brother’s children’s children.” Other vocal highlights included resident artist Shannon Jennings as Mr. Castner’s psychologist, singing of blast-induced neurotrauma with an effortless, natural authority and granting the opera a rare moment of catharsis. Adrianna Cleveland’s lament was raw, infused with passion, and the strident confidence of the male EOD quartet in the first act was pure swagger distilled into aria form. Pittsburgh Opera’s production, the third-ever staging of the show, makes for an entirely uncomfortable but equally moving experience.
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.
Mr. Taylor as the older Thompson was superb, showcasing developing acting chops and excellent vocal range. His colleagues were in fine form as well. Soprano Caitlin Gotimer was similarly striking as Older Alyce, angry and unsympathetic yet also soft and despairing at times. Hers was the most conflicting character role by far — believing her husband dead, Alyce took up with another man, constantly proclaiming she’d done nothing wrong and yet clearly tormented. Much food for thought. Terrence Chin-Loy as the Younger Thompson was convincingly anguished during montages of his time as a prisoner, with Ashley Fabian lending a sense of innocence to the work. All four singers are participants in the opera’s two-year young artist program. James Lesniak lead the small opera orchestra in a generally tight performance. With so much genuine drama in Mr. Thompson’s life story (Alyce went into labor on the news that her husband was missing, for example), the operatic retelling felt strangely staid, sticking on details and repeating phrases for effect rather than narrative flow. This was disconcerting in a good way, although it didn’t allow for the full impact of the story to be felt. Still, strong musicianship carried the evening. Mr. Cipullo’s music will never have the mass appeal of Mr. Webber’s. Opera no longer has the popular reach of musicals. Even though the base components are the same, one is more about spectacle and flash, and one is more specifically anchored by the craft of singing. Both are valuable. To each their own.
The sets for the Pittsburgh Opera production are quite magnificent. In Act II there’s a Paris street scene replete with tall buildings and even some snow falling, as Parpignol (tenor Terrence Chin-Loy) pushes his cart of toys through the street, captivating a group of children. In the Cafe Momus scene of Act II we are also introduced to a whirling dervish of a character, Musetta (soprano Sari Gruber) and her sugar daddy, Alcindoro (also played by Glavin). During the scene, a past love affair rekindles between Musetta and Marcello to humorous effect. The Cafe Momus set is quite striking, too, with decorative lighting, wooden booths, and tables. The entire cast of La bohème does a fantastic job of acting and singing their arias. There are many light touches of comedy throughout. One especially funny scene comes when Colline (Zimmerman) sings about having to sell his nice coat. The talented orchestra in the pit, led by Conductor Jean-Luc Tingaud, beautifully played Puccini’s score. Scenic design by Michael Yeargan and costume design by Zack Brown help to set the 1800s Paris mood. Lighting is by Andrew David Ostrowski and James Geier is wig and makeup designer. The production is stage managed by Cindy Knight and Mark Trawka is the chorus master.
The Pittsburgh Opera staging by Stephanie Havey, which opened Saturday evening at the Benedum Center, captures the spirit of that novel remarkably well. The lithe and supple cast, though not in fact particularly young, looks and acts like young people – students and aspiring artists – just barely keeping the wolf from their door. The ensemble scenes came off best: the antics of the four Bohemians at the start of the first and fourth acts, the Christmas Eve revelry at Café Momus (with excellent choral work prepared by Mark Trawka), the Act 3 quartet in which one couple separates while the other reunites. Among the solos, Mimi’s arias, deliciously vocalized by Ms. Cabell, took first honors. She is a beautiful singer who acts with her voice as well as her body. Her timbre was slender but nonetheless luscious, her shaping of every phrase that of a seasoned artist. Her Act 3 farewell to Rodolfo was the evening’s vocal highlight. Mr. Panikkar, too, is an admirable artist, who phrases exquisitely and makes every word count. But his lean voice is more suited to Mozart and the French repertory than to Italian “slancio,” which taxes him to his limits. He took the famous “Che gelida manina” down a half step, and even so had all he could do to get through the climactic phrase (here touching high B rather than a C). His best work was in the lyrical late-on duet with Marcello (baritone Craig Verm, dry-voiced but athletic and exuberant). The always delightful Sari Gruber pleased the audience with Musetta’s familiar Waltz aria. Her shriek when the character pretends to have a painful misfitting shoe is the best that I have ever heard on any stage. Another Pittsburgh favorite, Kevin Glavin, delivered his predictable comic wiles in the dual roles of the landlord Benoit and the ludicrous old sugar-daddy Alcindoro.
