The last M-word you will ever need

'Twas another Friday, another promise of an exciting American Opera Theatre production!
Except that the work which was given the AOTreament was an unfortunate choice: Handel's M-word, which can only be fun in this context.
As much as I love Handel (and when it comes to Cesare, Orlando and Rinaldo, and assorted fluff, I really love Handel) I could never comprehend why that particular oratorio is so popular. It's way too long, has a plodding structure, and only in couple of choruses does the music even start to sound interesting, just before it is briskly pulled back into rather banal Baroque twiddling. "I know My Redeemth LEAEVETH" (thank you Emma) is vaguely pleasant, especially when done with gonzo ornamentation by the likes of Julianne Baird, but after hearing the whole thing live at National Cathedral some twelve years ago, and few thwarted (life is short) attempts to listen to Gardiner recording, I just gave up. Why not do Samson, or Saul, or Alexander's Feast, or the wonderfully fawning Coronation Anthems, or go for the high octane drama of Hercules and Theodora, instead of giving in to the sorely mistaken Christmas tradition of doing the Messiah rounds, in spite of best efforts of people who care. It's the Hallelujah chorus, innit? People are suckers for big hits, right?
Still, I am a sucker for AOT, after they stole my heart with Cavalli's La Didone. So off we went, accompanied by a Kipling Monkey named Marcy. Here she is, just before the kick-off, with the backdrop of the Gonda theatre stage, littered with- gasp!- torn book pages! Such violence! No wonder the orchestra hid behind the screen...


As it turned out, violence was very much in, and it was not just the books that were beaten up. While Handel's score was solidly performed on period instruments (with just a few snafus here and there) and energetically conducted by Tim Nelson, and the chorus, consisting of rounded up G-Town students sang just fine, though sadly amplified, the soloists were given much rough stage business to perform, and did not sound evenly good. Kristen Dubenion-Smith, billed as mezzo, sounded great in terms of her basic deep, contralto-ish sound, but Bonnie McNaughton sounded really off. Tenor- well, who cares for tenors... not me, nor the Kipling monkeys. Just like moi, they are well known for their love of baritones and basses and worship the God of Baroque Thunder, and so Marcy did come out and started jumping quite excitedly at "He trusted in God that He would deliver Him" sung by bass David Newman, and perked up at several instrumental passages, but that was pretty much it.
As for the staging, I will refer to Michael Lodico at Ionarts who gives a blow by blow (literally!) account of the proceedings. It made SOME sense as literal reading of the text, but it did not make for terribly compelling drama. Couple of cute/tortured/beautiful angel poses struck by soprano Sherezade Panthaki, who also sang quite beautifully, stood out. (There are several pictures posted on Tim Nelson's blog). Violence aside- I know VRN cringed at the massacre of the books and the rough treatment of IKEA furniture- it was an interesting performance, but I think I have had my full share of the M-word for ever and ever, amen. Much other music deserves to be heard instead.
And speaking of which, I found this in the M-program, and indeed AOT has now officially announced their new season and put a huge and ever expanding grin on my face: they are doing my eternal favorite, Cavalli's La Calisto (which I just happened to feature in October post to mark an important event in my life), and Bizet's Carmen, which of all cheesy overperformed opera evergreens is my favourite cheesy evergreen, and Handel's A&G (ze GOOD Handel, ja) and some bizarre Glass opera that sounds like great fit for a truly outrageous staging. And I can't wait for Charpentier's opera in May 2008. Truly, I say unto them, I hope that they hath exorcised their M-word jonesing and will stick to quality works from now on.

UPDATE:
This is now getting interesting: there is a "Letter to the Editor" from Tim Nelson, on the Ionarts post, and Micheal's witty "The M-word... S&M" title is gone, but the comments are being fired from all sides. And while being chastised for his "wrong reading", VRN is being taken to task for saying that M-word is- gasp!- not a masterpiece. Now we really should have a ban on it...

GROUNDed in Georgetown

I saw the grand production of Amercan Opera Theatre's Ground last Friday; the Kipling monkey which got to go with me was Pitsy. Here he is, with the backdrop of the pseudo-Gothic spires of the G campus:

I have to admit, his Forest Green fur blended in nicely with the Georgetown landscape...
Other than hearing great things about this production when it debuted last year, I did not know what to expect and it was a big surprise. For this year's edition, in somewhat changed form, nothing but good reviews are coming from all sides - the Post, Michael Lodico at Ionarts, the "Ground is Heavenly" praise from Operatically Inclined CGK. Here's why I liked it so much.
On a very sweet note, Tim Nelson, the head honcho of AOT, opened this production with a short speech and dedication to all these artists who may have been "esthetically very different from" AOT, but who were important and who left us recently- LHL (sniff.... am still in denial about her death), Nilsson, Crespin, Sills and of course Pavarotti. Nice acknowledgment from such Enfants Terribles group like AOT, paying respect to the old guard. People change, opera goes on.
What you could call a plot in Ground is a simple thing. A Him is lonely, and meets Her, and they go through whole life cycle together, singing. And the band plays on.. Part I was at first only pleasant, but the whole thing kicked it into higher gear with Part II.
Since the singers had to carry this through, few words about them. Brian Cummings' voice has improved greatly; at his La Didone's outing as Iarbo, he often seemed unsure if he was really a countertenor, now it's a much smoother vocal ride, with some funny runs, but really nice sound. He still has a particular way of moving on stage; his trademark hops were especially endearing when the couple was at the young age/early stages of courtship. Elizabeth Barber was vocally underpowered at first; she improved as the show went on, but she expressed herself well enough, not just with the vocals. Blending in duets was a mixed business, but in the end- where it mattered- it was really good.
For the mini orchestra, I have nothing but high fives: most importantly, the three players managed to stay focused, crunching out repeating patterns of music.. even had a bit of fun in places- at the movement accompanying the couple's quarrel, the hitherto impeccably Baroque violin suddenly broke out into blue grassy mode.
The staging was sparse but very ingenious- the same silk sheet made for the bed and the baby, the flower vase told stories about my way/your way issues of cohabiting together, the collapsed wall of the little house made a very sad flower patch - and a grave?- but it was just enough to express a lot of things on a budget, and, methinks, without great compromises.
The projected titles also made sense to me, though people sitting behind me found them confusing. The common surtitle scheme in opera houses works by having most if not all the words simply translated, and the Ground's loosely connected words projected on screen may take getting used to. The brochure handed out was certainly made a on a cheap, and with a tipsy editor, but I only opened it at the beginning. In this production the link between the sung text and the story was tenuous anyway, and it made no sense to be rustling pages.
What actually surprised me was how I engaged in the story I became. From the first signs of baby onward, it felt like a connected, coherent and really emotional tale. The ending was perfect.
Pitsy the Monkey got little bored with Part I, but emerged at the break- which was, in a new fashion, accompanied by music and used to change the "scenery" (i.e. move the tealights):

and he absorbed Part II wistfully. Kipling Monkeys are tough to please, and this was a good sign.
And all this wonder from patchwork of music that, other than Monteverdi, I barely knew- Merula is the author of a piece called La Monica, and I like to see my name used for noble musical purposes, but that's all I heard of him so far.
I have high hopes for AOT. I hope staging of madrigals catches on! I would love to see few chosen pieces by Gesualdo presented with some smart stage business. My super favourites in the madrigal field, La Venexiana, got slugged recently for "sameness of mood" at their concert. Inventive stagings like Ground could help with easier digestion of not just madrigals... but I think early Baroque/Renaissance music lends itself beautifully to this treatment.