Fiennes and Okonedo: Antony and Cleopatra on Fire

I just spent the past three plus hours transported to Rome and Egypt along with Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, in the guises of Ralph Fiennes and Sophie Okonedo. Director Simon Godwin has created a modern, yet still timeless world for Shakespeare's characters to spring to vivid life in, and while overall the cast was excellent, with superb performances by (nearly) all, the show is aptly named for this formidable couple. Shakespeare did well with his titles, eh ? 

Fiennes' Antony is one of surface bravado but with deep and myriad underpinnings of ego, self doubt, jealousy, delusion, loyalty and genius. An interesting, and telling choice, was to portray Antony as an alcoholic, subtly but effectively putting his choices and actions in a light I'd never considered before. When Caesar sends Thidius to "steal" Cleopatra, and seeing through Caesar's intent, toys with the boy, he begins kissing her. Antony staggers in, waving a half empty bottle of Bulleit bourbon (my old favorite!) and his rage seems fueled by the whisky, orders the boy whipped and beaten, and unleashes his rage upon his queen, including what sounds like a liberty taken with the line "Ah, you kite!" (you can imagine what's in its place). Fiennes moves like an aging dancer, elegant one moment, clownish the next, crawling on the floor, all with abandonment of regard of to how he appears. He simply (or not so simply) . . . just "Is."

As his Cleopatra, Sophie Okonedo is . . . formidable seems too slight a compliment for her performance. As many shades as Fiennes' Anthony presents, Ms. Okonedo seems to go even further. She is regal, elegant, sexy, a swaggeringly dangerous beauty, loud of voice and character. She gives such depth to a character already complex on the page that it is difficult not to be overwhelmed by her, which is as true of the viewer as it is of the many characters in the play. 

While their scenes alone and with others felt daringly theatrical, together Fiennes and Okonedo created fire. The Johnny Cash/June Carter song lyrics "We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout" kept springing to mind. The pair almost seem to have a secret language in each other's company that goes beyond words and gestures and straight to the passion and soul of their partner. Godwin had a gift in the pairing of these two formidable actors and the result of their work together is thrilling, almost always on edge and, even for someone knowing the play well, full of constant, welcome surprise,  

Some criticism was made of the initial run (back in 2018) of the length of the play and how Godwin's production - setting each scene in its own locale, rather than a unit set - added unnecessary stretching to an already long work. Similarly, criticism abounds about how Shakespeare knew not how to end this play, a good half hour between the deaths of Antony and Cleopatra. Nonsense. We've moved into an era where plays are frequently shorter than ever, while we easily spend three hours at the cinema watching planets explode, with trite dialogue wanly delivered by beautiful actors afraid of their voices, in films with quick cuts geared toward those with Attention Deficit Disorder. This is not Shakespeare's fault . . . it's ours. If one can give oneself over to the glory of language that speaks beyond the obvious, that is rendered from the hearts and minds of superb artists, on a stage that serves all of it up splendidly, i can think of no better use of a few hours of one's time.  

The film of this live performance is available on several pay streaming platforms presently, and, happily as of today, free on YouTube. Go watch it. Now.  

John Adams: Still Going Strong With Antony and Cleopatra

 

After reading Zachary Wolfe’s dismissal of John Adam’s latest opera, Antony and Cleopatra, referring to it as his “dullest” and how its three long hours “slump(s) to a subdued finish,” and ultimately damning it as “a dreary disappointment,” I was uncertain what to expect.  

Insomnia bade me to give it a whirl tonight, and I thought, at worst, it could cure this sleeplessness.  The effect, however, was entirely opposite of that.  While there were several moments in the first act that had me wanting to push the whole thing forward, most of it grabbed me, propelling its way to a rather thrilling conclusion that, orchestrally at least, hinted the Act One finale of  Doctor Atomic.  What I was not prepared for, however, was how its longer second act felt as though it passed before my eyes and ears in a matter of minutes.  

Indeed, through its tautness, sheer theatricality and best of all, magnificent performances by a terrific cast, Adams second act bounced, danced, wriggled and writhed, exploding from strength-to-strength. Indeed, I felt breathless for its first forty-one minutes (hitting pause to get some water, so noticed the time).  While its pace at that point, slowed down, it did so appropriately to the storytelling, all the while ever gaining in intensity up until its tragic, and literal, denouement.  

Antony and Cleopatra frequently finds Adams more traditionally lyrical than in the past, but anyone acquainted with his output is never at a loss as to whose music this is.  There are moments of turgidity, fire, and horror, too, if different than those we experienced in his other operas.  A genius of orchestration, the composer brings in his old friends the cimbalom and hammered dulcimer, which introduce a slight tang that musically highlights the exoticism of the storytelling.  I’d happily pit this score (no pun intended), after a single hearing against any of his others for sheer expressiveness of sound and beauty.  Music Director Eun Sun Kim, leads the San Franciscans in a reading that captures every nuance of the complex score, weaving it and holding it together with marvelous fluidity, nuance and strength.

San Francisco Opera clearly pulled out all the stops for this centenary celebratory work, from the powerfully dramatic direction of Elkhanah Pulitzer, to Mimi Lien’s never less than stunning 1930's pseudo-Hollywood design which morphs instantly from minimalistic and intimate to theatrically overpowering with near cinematic seamlessness.  

That commitment extended to the cast which, I cannot imagine being bettered.  Gerald Finley’s voice is one of those that seems ageless, and at 62 remains one of the most beautiful baritones I’ve ever heard, with that unique sense of clarity of sound that allows text to sound as clear as though it were being spoken.  Finley is marvelous as Antony, and captures the complete essence of the heroic romantic warrior from first to last.  Here is every aspect of a complex persona, his hubris, humanity, bitterness, jealousy, fear, rage and despair all worn, as Iago says, “upon his sleeve for daws to peck at.”  

Then there is the Cleopatra of Amina Edris.  Having never heard of the soprano before, and knowing she was a late substitute for Adams’ favorite Julia Bullock, I had reservations. They were dashed about as quickly as she opened her mouth.  Add to the fact she’s a lovely singer in face and figure, her being Egyptian born seemed to add an additional frisson to the proceedings.  Edris’ crystal clear soprano, immaculate diction (in sung Shakespeare, no less) made her Cleo the perfect match to her Antony.  Adams’s writing for the character is of a certain “all over the map” style requiring the singer to wrestle with the language at both the top and bottom of the range, and Edris never – not once – faltered.  Even at the top her diction was flawless, rendering the titles unnecessary.  As to that last statement, this was fairly true of the entire cast.  She fairly owned the second act, and her scenes at Antony’s demise, and at the hands of Caesar’s rubes, and ultimately her suicide found this young soprano clearly making a mark for the big time.  

Paul Appleby’s Caesar offered him in one of the best roles I've seen him in.  His power-grab scene rousing the masses played off brilliantly and horrifically with a sense of showing how little the world has really changed.  Ever.  

Alfred Walker has never disappointed me and here, as Enobarbus, he only makes me wish he’d get more prominent assignments in our houses.  Hired for Masettos and Crowns this is a voice with Wagner and Verdi stamped all over it.  

The balance of the cast, Elizabeth Deshong, Taylor Raven, Brenton Ryan, et al., contribute and help complement the evening into a worthwhile operatic experience.

I’m pleased to learn the opera is a co-production of several companies, including the Metropolitan Opera, which means I may actually get to see this one live.  Until then, I’ll do my best not to fall on Antony’s sword.