Des Moines Metro Opera / Recensioni

Des Moines Metro Opera demonstrated once again their commitment to partnering with the community with their production of The Falling and the Rising. This opera is the company’s third collaboration with the Iowa National Guard, and while this contemporary work has had several productions in recent years, these two performances are the first to take place on an active military base, a location that makes the touching story all the more poignant.

"Turandot" also gave pleasure to ear and eye. One was pleased to find how effectively Puccini's operatic swan song can play in a smaller theater, allowing the human drama to take precedence over the overblown spectacle familiar to many operagoers from, say, the Metropolitan Opera's Franco Zeffirelli extravaganza.

Des Moines Metro Opera’s production of Bartok’s Bluebeard’s Castle was a marriage of powerful music and stunning visuals, a combination that pushed this often overlooked operatic masterpiece to new heights. As with most fairy tales, the story of Bluebeard’s ill-fated bride is full of compelling contradictions, and this production struck just the right balance of dark romance mixed with psychological horror. The orchestra, under the baton of David Neely, brought Bartok’s lush score to life. As Judith opens the doors of the castle, new horrors and wonders are revealed, and the orchestra plays a pivotal role in illustrating Bluebeard’s hidden secrets. Ranging from murky darkness to epic glory, Neely and the orchestra navigated these dramatic fluctuations with finesse, supporting the singers in a true collaboration. Viktoria Vizin introduced the tragic tale in the speaking role of the Prologue. Her clear diction and commanding presence set the tone for the story to come, drawing the audience in and hinting at the uncertainty of the unfolding drama. This production made a clever choice to bring Bluebeard’s former wives to life through movement. Three dancers, Erin Arndorfer, Melissa Dahms, and Chiyo Nishida, portrayed the doomed brides with haunting grace. The choreography by Lisa Thurrell was fluid and entrancing, hinting at the love and sorrow each experienced at their captor’s hands. Christian Van Horn’s dark baritone voice was perfectly suited for the titular role of Bluebeard. In an opera featuring only two characters, chemistry between Bluebeard and Judith is crucial, and Van Horn complimented his demanding bride’s vacillating emotions with sinister stoicism and malevolent ambiguity. Bluebeard must be both seductive and frightening. Judith must desire him enough to disregard his many warnings, and Van Horn skillfully conveyed the sorrow and horror Bluebeard experiences as Judith exposes each of his secrets. Much of the dramatic weight of this opera falls upon the shoulders of Bluebeard’s inquisitive bride, Judith. Sara Gartland carried this burden with undeniable charisma, her lush voice and nuanced acting on display from start to finish. Judith begins the opera as a seemingly innocent girl, but Gartland managed to gradually reveal the true depth hidden beneath this facade. Her hopeful outlook on love is slowly transformed as her husband’s dark secrets come to light, and the audience experiences curiosity and revulsion alongside the heroine. Judith is not just a helpless victim, however. She actively pursues her fate, seductive and demanding as she requests each key from Bluebeard. Gartland brought a staggering strength to the role in a performance that ensured the experimental production maintained its emotional core. Perhaps the true breakout star of the evening was the state of the art digitally enhanced set. Des Moines Metro Opera collaborated with local artist Oyoram to incorporate hundreds of LED screens into the scenic design, creating an ever changing, interactive backdrop upon which the drama could enfold. Most productions of Bluebeard’s Castle are minimalist, using stark sets and lighting to hint at the marvels behind each door. Director Kristine McIntyre saw the potential to utilize technology to defy this expectation, bringing the heavy symbolism to life visually as well as musically. The vibrant, evolving backdrop allowed the audience to experience the grand vistas of Bluebeard’s domain as well as the chilling blood soaked walls of his torture chamber. Hearing Judith describe these sights is moving, but seeing them with your own eyes is truly breathtaking. The production design was deeply influenced by the art nouveau style prevalent when this opera originally premiered. References to Klimt and other artists were ingrained in every aspect of the opera’s aesthetic, a feat that was achieved through the use of a controversial source–AI generated artwork. The effect of these artificially designed backgrounds was somewhat unnerving. If the audience looked too closely, the irregularities and imperfections became apparent, but that uncanny valley seemed fitting in this disturbing storyline. Scenic designer Luke Cantarella complimented the digital displays by framing the technology with more traditional features. Piles of treasure lined the edges of the stage. Paintings and sculptures of naked women hinted at Bluebeard’s former muses, emphasized when he begins to sketch his bride as she drapes jewels around her neck. There is a sordid opulence to Bluebeard’s realm. A spiral staircase ascended from the depths, and Judith begins and ends the opera on this impressive structure, towering over the awaiting darkness. This gilded set piece was particularly striking, holding its own in a sea of LED screens. The costume design by Kaye Voyce also drew inspiration from art nouveau, as did the hair and makeup by Brittany V.A. Rappise. Stark white garb allowed both Judith and Bluebeard to stand out against the colorful backdrops, alluding to the past yet somehow timeless. Judith in particular looked like a painting come to life, as if Klimt had made the finishing brush strokes just moments before she stepped onstage. Kristine McIntyre’s staging was a refreshing twist on an usually tragic tale. When Bluebeard opens the final door, Judith discovers the fate of his three previous wives. The women are captives on display, muses frozen in time. Bluebeard reveals that his fourth bride, Judith herself, is to join their ranks, and at first she submits to her doom, allowing him to drape the midnight mantle over her shoulders. Then in a moment of defiance, Judith casts the garment aside, and the other brides follow suit. The four women flee the castle, ascending the spiral staircase and returning to the light once more. In the end, the women are triumphant, and Bluebeard is left in his crumbling mansion, alone in the dark. The final visual was a powerful one, the four brides and the Prologue joining hands in solidarity as their tormentor mourned below. The beauty of a fairy tale is its ability to evolve, resonating with the audience time and time again. Des Moines Metro Opera’s cutting edge production of Bluebeard’s Castle breathed new life into an underrated opera, blending the digital and traditional in a seamless immersive display. The immortal power of this dark love story proved just as potent in this new format, and I can’t wait to see how the opera company continues to push the boundaries of this technology in future productions.

Des Moines Metro Opera ventured into the whimsical and absurd with their production of Prokoviev’s The Love for Three Oranges. The farcical fairy tale is a rarely performed operatic treat, a light hearted contrast to the rest of their summer season that had the audience chuckling from start to finish. The playful humor of this opera was evident before the music even began. The audience was welcomed to a vibrant vaudeville stage, a set full of amusing details and hints of the chaos to come. Jacob A. Climer captured the essence of this theatrical setting in both the scenic and costume designs. The sheer variety of characters and costumes was overwhelming at times–medieval villains, colorful cowboys, boxing bears, showgirl princesses, commedia dell’arte clowns, and more! Brittany V.A. Rappise’s hair and makeup designs were equally extravagant and fun, inspired by iconic theatrical looks. There was never a dull moment, and despite the volume of roles required for this singular show, the attention to detail was consistent throughout, the most minor characters just as visually stunning as the leads. Connie Yun’s lighting design enhanced the ever changing world of the opera, capturing the chimeric moods of the plot. The primary constant onstage was a large sign reading “VAUDEVILLE” which would light up in varying colors, and when the villains graced the stage, only the letters “EVIL” or “DEVIL” would glow in sinister green or red, an amusing detail that never failed to make the audience laugh. Climer’s scenic designs struck just the right balance between realistic and bizarre. The theatrical setting of the opera worked in favor of the disjointed narrative, and any idiosyncrasies that occurred with the performance felt intentional for this very reason. I often found myself baffled when new oddities emerged, such as a hot pink buffalo rising from the stage or giant ladle wielding puppet, but in this production, the constant confusion just worked. The story and the production kept the audience guessing in a way that was engaging and fun. The Love for Three Oranges is the kind of opera that you could watch numerous times, and you would discover something new about it each time…even if you still wouldn’t understand it any better. The orchestra navigated Prokoviev’s sprightly yet deceptively tricky composition under the baton of Michael Sakir. The music underpinned the comedic antics with complex nuance, and despite the potential pitfalls, the collaboration between the instrumentalists and the vocalists was absolutely seamless. Prokoviev’s score was pleasing overall but not particularly memorable. I didn’t leave humming any catchy tunes nor was I blown away by any vocal fireworks, but the music served the narrative well enough. The Love for Three Oranges is truly an ensemble piece, and the supporting cast played an integral role in the production. The chorus, supernumeraries, and dancers were the cohesive force that held an otherwise disjointed tale together. Their comedic antics provided a lively backdrop for the main characters and produced plenty of laughs from the crowd. The dancers in particular embodied a variety of wacky characters, and Isaac Martin Lerner’s choreography embraced the absurdity of each situation with gusto. Most importantly, I could sense that each performer onstage was genuinely enjoying themselves, and because even the most minor characters were having fun, so did the audience. This opera had a lot of characters, and sometimes it was difficult to remember how they each fit into the topsy turvy tale. It began simply enough with the King of Clubs and his advisor Pantalon, portrayed by Scott Connor and Benjamin Taylor respectively. These two characters welcomed the audience into the satirical fairy tale and set up the premise of the hijinks to come. Connor and Taylor captured both the sincerity and comedy of these roles, their performances grounded by solid vocal deliveries. I have to admit that the villains really stole the show, and there are plenty of scoundrels to spare in this story. The primary antagonists were a delightful trio consisting of Alexander Birch Elliot as Léandre, Catherine Martin as Clarice, and Sun-Ly Pierce as Sméraldine. These three never failed to crack up the audience every time they graced the stage. Birch Elliot was constantly leering and creeping around the stage, and before he even sang a note, you could tell the prime minister was up to no good. Martin’s presence was manipulative and overbearing in contrast, the instigator set to benefit most from the Prince’s demise. Pierce rounded out the group as the servant of Fata Morgana, carrying out their scheme with sinister glee. Birch Elliot, Martin, and Pierce all sang their roles with playful maliciousness that was reminiscent of classic cartoon villains, an approach that was perfect for this campy opera. As with any proper fairytale, there was a magical element driving the plot. In this opera, the magician Tchélio, sung by Anthony Reed, and the witch Fata Morgana, sung by Alexandra LoBianco, were locked in a card game (literally and figuratively) to determine the fate of the Prince. Reed portrayed Tchélio as a doddering but well meaning magician whose illusions often fall short but whose interventions eventually saved the day. LoBianco was outrageously wicked as Fata Morgana, vacillating between malevolent and ridiculous. Her powerful vocals and outlandish cackles resounded in the theater, and the soprano clearly enjoyed the opportunity to be the baddie for a change. As the Prince went on his adventures, he encountered even more strange beings along the way. Farfarello, sung by José Olivares, was a demon who conjured winds to aid the hero on his quest. Olivares made the most of this brief role, garnering quite a few chuckles as he brandished his red feathered fans. Matt Boehler sang the role of the Cook, a larger than life character that was portrayed with the aid of puppetry. Boehler was a particular favorite with the audience, decked out in cabaret makeup and pink glitter as the disembodied puppeted hands threatened the heroes with a giant ladle. Boehler demonstrated his vocal and expressive versatility, and his exaggerated acting elicited some of the biggest laughs of the night–no mean feat considering he was only onstage for a single scene. I would love to see what the bass could manage if given the opportunity to sing a lengthier buffo role. No fairytale would be complete without a princess, and this satirical story comes with three: Linette sung by Ariana Maubach, Nicolette sung by Maggie Reneé, and Ninette sung by Flora Hawk. Unfortunately for the first two princesses, their time was fleeting, but Maubach and Reneé had the audience chuckling through their comedic death scenes, their performances charming however short lived. Ninette managed to survive long enough to get a happy ending with the Prince, however, and Hawk provided the bright bubbly vocals and humorous delivery to win her beloved as well as the hearts of the audience. At the center of this farcical adventure lies a buddy comedy, a series of hijinks shared by the Prince and the court jester Trouffaldino. Michael Porter sang the role of Trouffaldino with infectious charm, and ironically enough, his clownish character was often the voice of reason as he accompanied the besotted Prince on his quest. Porter nailed the physical comedy required for the role, and the scene where he evaded the killer Cook was a particular crowd pleaser. Christopher Sokolowski was delightful and suitably silly as the Prince. This ridiculous royal began the opera as a melancholy hypochondriac then found himself on the wrong end of a witch’s curse which had him falling madly in love with three oranges. Sokolowski navigated the ever changing and equally absurd moods of the Prince with finesse, and his chemistry with Porter brought a playful energy to an otherwise confusing narrative. Sokolowski’s heroic tenor voice turned the hapless Prince into a compelling hero, his clear tone and skillful technique making the most of Prokoviev’s score. Anyone who can successfully navigate an entire quest in bunny slippers has my respect! Considering this opera has a plethora of crazy characters and an absolutely bananas plot line, it runs the risk of overwhelming the audience or losing them entirely. Rather than trying to work against these elements, however, stage director Chas Rader-Shieber embraced the nonsensical joy, and the end result was an absolute triumph of comedy. Every scene was controlled chaos, and despite the insanity onstage, I couldn’t look away. Des Moines Metro Opera’s production of The Love for Three Oranges was an unexpected treat and a celebration of absurdity, featuring a remarkable cast all too willing to showcase the weird and wonderful musical satire. I was truly surprised by this lesser known comedic work. Did I have any idea what was going on for most of the opera? No. But did I have fun watching it? Heck yes! Would I go see it again? Absolutely!

Des Moines Metro Opera chose to go with a traditional aesthetic for this production. Carmen is an audience favorite for a reason, so why change what already works? The historical setting is familiar and expected, but the themes of this passionate tale still hit hard. The scenic design by David P. Gordon was the perfect balance of vibrant and gritty. The world Carmen occupies is one of stark contradictions, and the visual environment reflected that. The chimeric emotions of the story were accentuated by the lighting, designed by Kate Ashton. The audience could feel the sweltering heat of sunny Seville in one scene and the tense chill of the smuggler’s mountain camp the next. The use of spotlights in particularly dramatic moments was effective, drawing the eye to Carmen and Don José against a startling red backdrop – ominously foreshadowing their tragic fates. The costume design for the production presented a rich color palette to match the lively crowds of Seville. Brittany V.A. Rappise’s hair and makeup designs were flawless, flattering to each member of the diverse cast. From the scruffy street urchin to the preening matadors, each character was believable and visually intriguing. Conductor Kelly Kuo made his company debut, leading the orchestra in a colorful and nuanced performance of Bizet’s beloved score. The chorus, under the direction of Lisa Hasson, provided a lively musical and dramatic backdrop for the main characters. The children’s chorus, directed by Sandy Miller and Mary Craven Bartemes, was an audience favorite. Whether they were mimicking soldiers or cheering on bullfighters, the adorable gaggle was irresistibly charming. Some of Bizet’s most infectious tunes occur in large ensemble scenes, and the choruses delivered stellar performances of each and every earworm. Des Moines Metro Opera assembled a strong cast of singers for this production. Bizet’s score is full of popular and familiar music, and expectations can be high as a result. However, each singer proved they had the vocal chops to live up to the hype. The singing was solid across the board. The cast also handled the French dialogue with convincing dramatic conviction, an aspect of this opera that can often fall short. Sankara Harouna drew the audience into the story from the opening scene in the role of Moralès. With a strong and rich baritone voice, Harouna was a commanding presence, however, he seemed far too nice in his interactions with Micaëla. This scene is the first to highlight the misogyny woven throughout the narrative, and his invitation should at least be subtly threatening, even with a smile upon his face. In contrast, Allen Michael Jones’ portrayal of Zuniga was palpably despicable. The bass sang with a simmering cruelty that made the skin crawl, interspersed with sudden glimpses of his rage. There is nothing subtle about Zuniga’s misogyny, and Jones brought a captivating malevolence to a character that can often be overlooked. Carmen’s smuggling companions provided some much needed levity to an otherwise dark tale. Ryan Wolfe and Daniel Esteban Lugo sang the roles of Dancaïro and Remendado with humor and just the right touch of danger. They were particularly delightful in the infamous smugglers’ quintet in act two, and this ensemble number brought an effervescent energy that felt like a breath of fresh air. Their female companions, Frasquita and Mercédès, sung by Emma Marhefka and Imara Miles, delivered mischievous charm every time they graced the stage. Even when they were relegated to the background, the two women captured the eye. Marhefka and Miles showed off their vocal prowess in the well-known card trio of act three, and their contrasting vocal tones were a complimentary musical combination. Both singers nailed the comedic aspects of their roles, but they also displayed deeper emotions, particularly in the final act as they plead with Carmen to steer clear of her crazy ex. Frasquita and Mercédès are the only voices of reason in the face of the impending tragedy. Micaëla provides a foil to the titular seductress of the opera. Sometimes this good girl character can come across as a bit flat and boring compared to her rival, but Yunuet Laguna brought a quiet and compelling strength to the role. Laguna gave a glorious vocal performance, especially in her powerful upper register. Some of the lower vocal lines didn’t pack the same punch as her high notes, but any inconsistencies were forgotten as she soared above the orchestra. Her third act aria was one of the highlights of the night, giving the audience chills with a performance that was both musically and emotionally stunning. Christian Pursell certainly brought swagger to the role of Escamillo, the famous toreador and Don José’s rival for Carmen’s heart. Pursell’s Escamillo was a bit of a pretty boy with long flowing locks and a flashy sense of fashion. The baritone performed arguably the catchiest tune of the opera with his act two aria, strutting the stage like a true peacock. Pursell’s vocal performance was satisfying, but I wanted him to turn up the machismo just a few more notches. The chemistry between Escamillo and Carmen led to the most convincing flirtation of the opera, and their interactions in the final act were surprisingly tender. Matthew Cairns sung the role of Don José with technical skill and emotional nuance. His portrayal of José was a journey from insecure naivety to clingy obsession. Cairns seemed reserved in the first half of the opera, but we finally got a glimpse of José’s mad passion in his act two aria. Considering he delivered this dramatic solo in the wake of the fire alarm chaos, Cairns’ touching entreaty to his beloved was all the more impressive. Taylor Raven brought a controlled confidence to the role of Carmen. The mezzo soprano’s voice was velvet smooth and surprisingly agile, perfectly suited to Bizet’s music. She performed all three of Carmen’s beloved arias with skill, but her rendition of the Seguidilla was the most captivating. I enjoyed Carmen’s casual indifference in the first act. Often Carmen is portrayed as very physically seductive, but Raven’s restrained magnetism seemed to emphasize just how little the character desires the attention of her many would-be suitors. It is only when she needs something from José that Carmen actively seduces him, and even then, the enamored tenor does most of the work for her. This indifference, however, did not work as well in the other acts of the opera. I wanted more sexual tension between the lovers, more push and pull physically and emotionally. A toxic relationship like theirs should be full of conflicting but powerful emotions. Carmen should run hot and cold with José, sometimes luring him then pushing him away. I can appreciate an interpretation of Carmen that doesn’t focus entirely on her sexual power, but this interpretation seemed to downplay her seductive skills too much. Carmen should embrace her sexuality even if the men in her story do not.

Reuben Lillie (Salviati) enlivened the Venetian trio with a memorable turn that was marked by bravado and characterful phrasing. His virile sound was well-served by a reliable technique.

In addition to the “Big Three” Main Stage offerings in the Des Moines Metro Opera summer season, we were also indeed fortunate to experience their deeply affecting Second Stage production of Gregory Spears and Greg Pierce’s Fellow Travelers. This is a haunting, much-admired recent operatic work, and this particular physical production is itself ‘well-traveled.’ Fellow Travelers very empathetically tells the heartbreaking story about the disturbing fate of a political operative and his author/lover during the 1950’s Lavender Scare in America. Having encountered it at Arizona Opera a couple of seasons ago, its familiar stagecraft was like a welcome encounter with an old friend.