OPERA MAINE’S ROCKING HORSE: A WINNER

 

I was fortunate to attend the second (and sadly final) performance of Rocking Horse Winner, by Irish composer Gareth Williams opera and Canadian playwright/librettist Anna Chatterton. Based on the short 1926 story by D.H. Lawrence (in turn based upon the lives of real people) Rocking Horse confronts some very tough family issues like a parable or a modern take on a medieval morality tale.

Ava is a difficult woman to like, self-absorbed manner with a hard shell, she exhibits neither patience or love (even while singing of both) for her son, Paul, here an autistic young man of no determinate age, and changed (necessarily) from the little boy in Lawrence’s story.  Both man and child, he senses mother’s sadness over the family’s modest financial status, and works himself into a frenzy in endless attempts to alleviate that sadness.  The impossibility of that task is also, sensed with devastating results.  Lawrence presented this as a type of ghost story, the house itself a character, and defined by Ava’s misery and Paul’s desperation. 

Scored for string quartet and piano, Williams’ opera alternately drones, sparkles, soars and dances as it reaches flights of excitable fantasy and plumets to profound depths of sadness. There are moments, (particularly for Ava) which seem to reach back to the recitativo style of Monteverdi, only to burst forth with the type of luminous energy we often associate with minimalists like Philip Glass, yet remains distinct and individual. distinct. These are but two examples of the wide range of Williams’ musical vocabulary.  That vocabulary is perfectly in tune with Chatterton’s libretto, itself a healthy blend of styles at once poetic and declamatory. Conductor Jackson McKinnon led the ensemble in a powerful reading of Williams’ score that hours later is still resonating in my brain.  I imagine it will for a long time. I also know I will be seeking out more of this composer’s music.

As integral to the story as its pro/antagonists are Paul’s Uncle Oscar, and Bassett, Paul’s caretaker. The pair are racetrack enthusiasts, and discovering Paul’s innate ability to pick “only the winners” exploit the boy’s gift in order to increase the family fortune, as Eva sips champagne, adapting to an easier life in the house that appears to be consuming and destroying them all. 

Christopher Akerlind’s spare set – chairs, benches, rocking horse, etc., achieves a dream-like quality through his dramatic lighting design, drawing us in from the moment the opera begins. As directed by Richard Gammon, every element, movement and effect seems heightened, and strikes a splendid balance between Paul’s sense of the world, and the world as seen by everybody else.

While it is easy to love Paul and loathe Ava, I felt myself pitying this woman who, for me at least, exhibited a paralyzing depression that kept her bound . . . stagnant, unchanging from first to last.

As Ava, mezzo Lauren Cook sang with intensity and managed a difficult balancing act of self-pity and ennui, that made me feel sorry for, instead of hating, her.  Tenor Houston Tyrell was handsome, affable Uncle Oscar disguising his greed and self-interest with a smarmy sincerity and sounding splendid doing so.  It was nice to have baritone Marcel Sokalski back from last season’s The Fall of the House of Usher, to infuse Bassett with perky energy, as well as provide the megaphoned horse race analyses in the scenes at the track.

Pride of place goes to the incandescent performance of tenor Dylon Crain’s Paul. From his “tight rope” like entrance atop the four benches to his final collapse at evening’s end, Crain made me believe in Paul, made me care for Paul and, ultimately, broke my heart as Paul.  Lawrence’s Paul is a little boy, but rather than a treble, Williams and Chatterton wrote the role for a tenor.  Happily, in Mr. Crain we got both; boy and man, the thrilling sound of a tenor perfectly wed to the emotions and actions of a boy.

As The House, Jamila Drecker-Waxman, Emily J. Cottam, Taka Komagata, and Daniel Chiu observed all, propelling the tale through sound and movement, haunted whispers, and full throated singing, frequently with an almost dizzying use of rapidly choreographed gestures that added an appropriate zing of the surreal and helping us steer the action from one point to the next.

Following tonight's performance, Opera Maine’s Artistic Director Dona D. Vaughn hosted a talk back featuring Shilo Goodue from the Autism Society of Maine, Dramaturg M. Calien Lewis, and tenors Houston Tyrrell and Dylon Crain, in a discussion as well as questions and answers from the audience. 

I’m proud of Dona D. Vaughn and my home team not just for the outstanding artistic work they provide year-after-year, but also their ongoing effort of tying in the complexity and diversity of life into the performing arts, and exploring what that means to each of us.

Opera Maine Returns With A Sparkling Elixir!

They're baaaaaack!   

Like nearly every performing arts organization had to over the past year, Opera Maine had to take what felt like an interminable intermission, foregoing its long planned Die Fliegende Hollander which was due to set sail last summer.  (General Director Dona D. Vaughn announced that, after this hiatus, our Dutchman shall arrive next season.  Happy news, indeed!)

While I love Donizetti, I must admit that, since boyhood, L'elisir d'amore was an opera I avoided like, well, you know . . . that word.  Over the years I've grown to enjoy, if not absolutely love it . . . until this past Friday night.  

Vaughn's decision to set L'elisir in 1960 Naples paid off magically.  Against Donizetti's score, Portland's own Christopher Akerlind's (Broadway's Light in the Piazza, 110 in the Shade, Rocky, et al.) set and lighting design, along with Millie Hiibel's marvelous costume design, gave more than a wink and a nod to the feel-good Italian classic cinema. One could almost sense Fellini lurking behind a curtain.  While I may have longed for Wagner, this sparkling comedy felt life affirming andwas the perfect choice to bring back live opera to Maine.  La Dolce Vita, indeed!  

In  Vaughn's vision, the characters are just as stated in Romani's libretto, with the exception of Nemorino, whose legs we see before meeting the rest of him.  That is, he's an auto mechanic (the classic grease monkey, his coveralls - covered in the stuff) and that first appearance is beneath a bright green convertible.  Bright, is in fact the color scheme throughout the production which positively glows and pulsates with life. 

The role was splendidly sung by Joshua Wheeker who - at least in my opinion - stole the show whenever he was onstage, which was pretty much all the time.   A beautiful lyric tenor with lots of ping - or squillo as we call it in Operaland - with a dynamic range that fit his Nemorino fit like a glove.  That he gets the hit tune of the night, Una furtiva lagrima was a treat that earned Wheeker the greatest applause in a night that was positively (in the best sense of that word) clap happy.  A friend said, "he looked really familiar, like a friend of mine."  I explained it was because Wheeker's Nemorino looks like every third guy at Ruski's (a local West End tavern). This was a good thing. Wheeker was also a natural comedian, and his drunken escapades felt "real" as opposed to too frequently employed, stage drunkenness of the "Look at me, I'm drunk - and now I'm putting a lampshade on my head" school.  It was, if there can be such a thing, a refreshing drunkenness.  Like the rest of the cast, he had some pretty dandy dance moves, as well!

Adina was Sarah Tucker whose voice was full of surprises  . . . all good ones.  Moments of flighty, light coloratura delivered with pinpoint accuracy, which could melt into a creamy, more lyric sound.  She could dial up a little acid in the tone when called for but made Adina rather charming, instead of the shrew she can sometimes be.  Everything about Tucker's Adina was a delight,

Baritone, Luis Alejandro Orozco has an absolutely beautiful voice, though at times his projection of it could get a little lost or covered in the mix of the ensemble which is not unusual for a young baritone, whose music is frequently ninety percent dead center of the sound world they're inhabiting.  Almost ridiculously handsome, with great comic flair, a sense of bel canto style, tremendous ego and confidence oozing out of every pore, Orozco makes Adina's attraction to Belcore entirely believable. He was the bad guy you can't help but love.  

Gary Simpson's Dulcamara did what all great Dulcamara's doL  make you almost embarrassed to be laughing so loudly in an opera house.  Introduced with the roar of an offstage motorcycle (what no Vespa?) he enters walking the bike in with a wagon trailing behind him filled with bottles of Bordeaux . . . I mean his famous Elixir.  He owned the role Friday and his arias, duet, asides to the house, and escape plans provoked genuine belly laughs. 

Gianetta is not a major role in comparison to the central quartet, but here Shaina Martinez - in a sort of Rita Moreno mode, was captivating and hilarious from head to toe and beginning to end.

The splendid chorus, here almost ever present, were beautifully integrated into every scene, each creating a uniquely individual character that the production could not be imagined without.  I never tire of saying that in over twenty years of watching her productions, NO ONE uses and moves a chorus quite like Vaughn can. 

A shout out must go to the two old ladies on the bench watching, participating in, nodding . . .  and nodding off to the shenanigans, antics and joy that was taking place before them.   

Israel Gursky led a reading from the pit that made every note of this Elixir sparkle like bubbly, supporting and pacing his singers perfectly, and shading the score with nuance and love that spilled over us all.           

I can't have imagined a better opera to celebrate life, love and happiness after a year of  . . . well, you know.