STAGE REVIEW: THE MARRIAGE OF FIGARO By: Faiz No comments

 A scene from The Marriage of Figaro.

Flesh class-ical

By Ed Rampell

The Overture to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s 1786 masterpiece, The Marriage of Figaro (Le Nozze di Figaro), is among the most popular in opera, while the glorious music overall is among the best in the entire operatic and classical canon. Wearing an open black shirt and his white hair flying, maestro James Conlon went all Lenny Bernstein exuberantlyconducting The Marriage of Figaro with flair, from first to final note.

It’s interesting to see The Marriage of Figaro this season with its cornucopia of Figaro-themed productions based on Pierre Augustin Beaumarchais’ original 18^thcentury plays, onstage at not only the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, but at A Noise Within’s theater. I had just seen the latter’s rather freewheeling version of Figaro, which is basically the same story as The Marriage of Figaro sans Mozart’s sublime score, so this made it easier for me to follow the action.

As the lascivious, devious Count Almaviva’s (bass-baritone Ryan McKinny) servants, Figaro (bass-baritone Roberto Tagliavini) and Susanna (soprano Pretty Yende), prepare for their nuptials the newlyweds-to-be must contend with aristocracy’s despicable droit du seigneur. This ancient feudal law allowed the lord to deflower proletarianbrides before they consummated their weddings with their commoner husbands. So the ever resourceful Figaro and Susanna must scheme to thwart their “master’s” marital rape of the bewitching bride-to-be.

At the same time, the aristocrat’s scorned, forlorn wife, Countess Almaviva (soprano Guanqun Yu), seeks to reign in her adulterous husband’s serial philandering and to be reunited with him. (As depicted in Rossini’s 1816 The Barber of Seville, which LA Op presented earlier this season, the fickle Count Almaviva had ardently pursued Rosina to make her his Countess, but years later, when Marriage takes place, he has become bored by his now-downcast wife.)

As the plot thickens the randy cross-dressing male Cherubino (mezzo-soprano Renee Rapier), his adolescent hormones raging out of control, lusts for Rosina, Susanna and Barbarina (portrayed at the premiere by soprano So Young Park and on April 9 & 12 by soprano Vanessa Becerra). Cherubino, who dresses up in women’s clothing, becomes a soldier who’d prefer by far to make love, not war. Further complicating matters, Marcellina (mezzo-soprano Lucy Schaufer) has her own designs on Figaro, and it is one of the opera’s biggest surprises when we find out why she really loves Figaro. Bass Kristinn Sigmundsson, who recently played Don Basilio (depicted here by tenor Robert Brubaker) in The Barber of Seville, portrays The Marriage of Figaro's Doctor Bartolo with the same comic panache he displayed in The Barber of Seville.

In other words, this opera is mostly about love. Although the Count and lowly servant have a war of wits, pitting the patrician against the plebian, Mozart mostly plays this class struggle for laughs. There are also lots of war-between-the-love jokes and jibes.

However, as the issue of diversity and show biz has been much in the news of late, it’s worth noting that what’s called “non-traditional casting” actually enhances this production. The aptly named Pretty Yende is black, which adds another layer (no pun intended) to the cum-plexity of the plot, wherein the aristo seeks to assert his reprehensible droit du seigneur. The casting of an African woman as Susanna is redolent and reminiscent of those loathsome slave masters who coerced their female “chattel” to have love with them at Southern plantations. While the casting of Yu as the Countess may be a reference to how some Westerners view Asian women as “trophy” wives and/or lovers (although Yu’s Rosina is no stereotypical lotus blossom).

The casting of these talented non-white women in roles portrayed since the 18^th century by mostly European performers demonstrates what “affirmative action” really is in action: opening up the doors so individuals possessing god-given gifts can use them to their fullest expression. And in doing so, enriching the overall theatergoing experience, while giving jobs to deserving artists and others. From each according to their abilities, to each according to their needs.

Yu’s rendition of the Countess’ arias “Porgi amor” (“Love, thou holy purest impulse”) and “Dovo sono” (“They are over”) are as lovely as anything a Westerner could warble, and we are all the better for it when inclusion, rather than exclusion, is the watchword of the day, on- and offstage.

This is also true for the transgender role playing. Rapier’s rendition of the (purportedly) male Cherubino’s aria “Voi che sapete” (“What is this feeling?”) about adolescent love is utterly beguiling and charming. Sigmundsson’s mock malevolent interpretation of the aria, “La vendetta, oh, la vendetta” (“Revenge, oh, sweet revenge”) is likewise excellent.

As I wrote circa 2010 when LA Opera last presented The Marriage of Figaro, Ian Judge again deftly directs the players, but scenery designer Tim Goodchild’s humdrum sets still only come alive in the gorgeous garden scene, with its full moon -- although I don’t quite understand how chandeliers could be suspended outdoors. (Unfortunately, we are beset by the same sets - apparently Goodchild didn’t read my review. Bad child!) And once again this production also unnecessarily inserts modern references, such as telephones and flashlights, into the 18^th century milieu, which only serve to distract from what is otherwise a period piece. These intrusions do not enhance the work but are only 20^th century distractions that really don’t belong here. But these are mere quibbles. The choreography by Sergio Trujillo and Chad Everett Allen, plus chorus directed by Grant Gershon, however, are all grand.

The production clocked in at three and a half hours-plus. For that period of time one is transported from Earth to Planet Mozart. Wolfgang’s vision of love reigning supreme is a sublime splendor, with music to match. A splendid time was had by all.


The Marriage of Figaro runs through April 12 at L.A. Opera at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave. For more info: 213-972-8001; www.laopera.com.

THEATER REVIEW: THE MAGIC FLUTE By: Faiz No comments

A scene from The Magic Flute.

Sigh-lenses and breath

By Ed Rampell

The current version of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s The Magic Flute presented by LA Opera raises two essential artistic questions (plus, perhaps, eyebrows). Pouring vintage works into new bottles can be problematic, and in this reviewer’s opinion, more often than not they are not successful. This year I saw three modern dress Greek tragedies and, sans togas, only the Getty Villa’s Prometheus Bound worked. Resetting the other two myths in modern times served solely to detract from the original intents of the creators, and did absolutely nothing to enhance the banal productions.

On the other hand, every once in a while, a Leonard Bernstein, Arthur Laurents, Jerome Robbins, Stephen Sondheim and company come along, updating Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, whipping up a whole new, relevant concoction like West Side Story. It was a stroke of genius to replace Juliet’s balcony with a Manhattan fire escape. So I’m happy to say that the British “1927” theatre company and Komische Oper Berlin rendition of Mozart’s 1791 Flute -- the planet’s most produced German-language opera -- falls into this latter category of reconfigured and re-jiggered classics.

The company’s artistic conceit is to draw upon the conventions and aesthetics of silent films in order to express the fairy tale by Mozart and librettist Schikaneder. As such, we have some Hollywood studio slapstick and German expressionist elements, with references from Clara Bow’s “It Girl” to The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari to Fritz Lang’s Dr. Mabuse.

To be specific, the character Monostatos (tenor Rodell Rosel), who is identified (perhaps in a racist way?) as a “Moor” and chief of the slaves of the temple, is straight out of Nosferatu, F.W. Murnau’s 1922 creepy forerunner to Dracula. Pamina (soprano Janai Brugger) is suggestive of those Jazz Age sexually liberated flappers, such as Louise Brooks, the American-born actress who starred in G.W. Pabst’s 1920s German films, such as the daring Pandora’s Box -- one half expects her to burst out dancing the Charleston. Papageno (baritone Rodion Pogossov) is dressed like none other than that king of silent comedians, Buster Keaton (BTW, French Stewart is reviving the stellar bioplay Stoneface in June 2014 at the Pasadena Playhouse).

In addition to the innate artistry pertaining to and peculiar to silent movies, the 1927/Komische Oper Berlin production uses lots of 1927’s Paul Barritt-designed animation, which is the format the non-live action imagery is actually projected in, onto the wall Esther Bialas (who is also the costume designer) had constructed, in lieu of LA Opera’s usually lavish sets. This backdrop has elevated portals with sort of revolving doors out of which the various characters appear (strapped in harnesses, as they are on high). The visuals are often witty, and reminiscent of the type of animated images seen in the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine, Monty Python, Betty Boop Max Fleischer cartoons, and Dumbo -- although they never attain the polished perfection of works by Disney or Pixar.

This production is gloriously and very precisely, painstakingly co-directed by Suzanne Andrade, an Englishwoman, and Australian Barrie Kosky, who is the Intendant (chief administrator) of the Komische Oper Berlin. Viewer/listener beware: One misses it at his or her own peril, and an extra performance has been added. In our violent world, Mozart’s opera persuasively argues in favor of less Glocks -- and more glockenspiels. This rapturously imaginative Magic Flute is nothing less than -- well -- magical.

 

The Magic Flute runs through Dec. 13 at LA Opera at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave. For more info: 213-972-8001; www.laopera.com.