Category: Opera

@ My Met Score Desk for LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR

Saturday May 21, 2022 matinee – Having no interest in seeing the Met’s Rust-Belt setting of LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, I took a score desk for this afternoon’s performance. In the Playbill, there’s a long essay by the director of the production. I didn’t bother to read it. This succinct program note from Tito Capobianco’s production for Beverly Sills at New York City Opera in 1969 tells us all we to need to know:

I recently asked a longtime singer/friend of mine why singers who should know better agree to appear in these bizarre and unsuitable productions, and he said: “If you want to work in opera nowadays, this is what opera has become. Take it or leave it. If you start turning down productions that do not respect the composer or librettist, you will soon stop being asked.”

So I sat with my score before me this afternoon, creating my own production in the theater of the mind. There were a lot of empty seats, more than usual for a matinee. And people laughed aloud at times: there is nothing very funny about LUCIA, really, but perhaps the libretto’s reference to Edgardo’s announced journey to the “friendly shores of France”, or Enrico telling Normanno to ride out “on the road to Scotland’s royal city” to greet Arturo, seemed out of place in the Rust Belt. It must always be a pesky thing to these cutting-edge directors to have to deal with references in librettos that deter them in their quest to make opera relevant to modern audiences.

Maestro Riccardo Frizza conducted the opera as if it were early Verdi. He sometimes let the orchestra cover the singers. The harp solo that opens the opera’s second scene was sublimely played by Mariko Anraku, but she had to contend with stage noises caused by the moving set, and then – as the solo neared its end – a cellphone went off.

The vocal stars of the afternoon were Polish baritone Artur Ruciński – who scored a great personal success as Enrico – and Christian van Horn, stepping in for an ailing Matthew Rose and singing magnificently as Raimondo.

In the opera’s opening scene, Mr. Ruciński’s voice showed its customary warmth and power; his extraordinary breath control allowed him to sail thru long phrases effortlessly, and he sustained the final note of his cabaletta throughout the musical postlude. In the duet where Enrico forcibly brings Lucia around to his was of thinking about her impending marriage, Ruciński sounded splendid, with an exciting mini-cadenza at “…insano amor!” And, as at the 2019 Richard Tucker Gala, he brought the baritone line in the sextet very much to the fore.

Mr. van Horn made every word and note of Raimondo’s role count; his voice spans the music’s range comfortably, and has both strength and nuance. In the duet where the chaplain (do they have chaplains in the Rust Belt?) persuades Lucia to yield to her brother’s demand that she marry Arturo, Mr. van Horn’s sense of line had a wonderful rightness, and once he had secured Lucia’s agreement, he expressed the character’s joy and relief with some powerfully righteous vocalism. Another great moment in the van Horn Raimondo came as he stepped between the adversaries to prevent bloodshed at the wedding ceremony:

“Respect in me
the awful majesty of God!
In His name I command you
to lay down your anger and your swords.
Peace, peace!…He abhors
murder, and it is written:
He who harms another by the sword,
shall perish by the sword.”

This is one of the opera’s great moments, and Mr. van Horn sang it thrillingly.

To hear this basso sing Raimondo’s announcement of the murder of Arturo almost persuaded me to stay to the end of the opera. If I say that Mr. van Horn was as thoroughly impressive and satisfying in this role as Robert Hale had been in the City Opera’s Sills production, that is very high praise.

Had our Edgardo and Lucia attained the level as Mssrs. Ruciński and van Horn this afternoon, this would have been one of the great LUCIAs of my experience. But Javier Camarena’s voice, while clear and pleasing, seemed a size too small for this music in the big House. For the most part, the conductor did not push the tenor to extremes, but a bit more ring and vigor were wanting. Passing moments of flatting and throatiness could be forgiven at this, the final performance of the run. The popular tenor seemed to struggle at times in the Love Duet, which was spoilt anyway by the persistent cough of someone in the audience. But he did go for the high E-flat, despite the fact that he and Nadine Sierra sounded somewhat screamy at this tense moment.

Ms. Sierra ‘s tone at first seemed to have a steady beat; this became less prominent as the afternoon wore on, though moments of slightly sharp singing came and went. It is a generic sound, and she does not put a personal stamp on the music as such memorable Lucias as Sutherland, Scotto, Sills, Gruberova, Devia, and Oropesa have done, but, for all that, she had some very exciting moments. For one thing, her top D-flat and D were spot on today, making for exciting ends to her Act I cabaletta, the sextet, and the Act II finale. However, I do not think the Sierra Lucia will be remembered for years to come as the ladies listed above have been and will continue to be.

As Normanno, tenor Alok Kumar was covered by the orchestra in the opening scene, but he was incisive later on. Deborah Nansteel fared very well as Alisa, and she handled the ‘high A’ moments in the Act II finale, which elude many mezzos, nicely. Eric Ferring sang the brief but demanding role of Arturo handsomely.

~ Oberon

May 20, 2022
Ô Lumière de Troie!

Above: The Ghost of Hector appears to Aeneas; Henri Fantin-Latour (1836-1904)

Hector Berlioz’s LES TROYENS is a unique masterpiece. The libretto was written by Berlioz himself, drawn from Virgil’s epic poem The Aeneid. The two-part opera was composed between 1856 and 1858. Berlioz did not live to see a complete performance of the work.

Every time I listen to LES TROYENS, I’m thrilled by its power, mystery, and tragic sense of doom. The scene where the slumbering Aeneas is visited by the Ghost of Hector has become, over the years, a particularly moving one for me.

AENEAS:

“Oh, light of Troy!…Oh, glory of the Trojans!
From what fated region do you return? Your eyes are veiled.
Hector, what summons you back from the dead?”

THE GHOST OF HECTOR:

“Ah!… flee, son of Venus!
The enemy is within our walls! The whole of Troy crumbles!
A hurricane of flames engulfs our temples and palaces.
To save the soul of Troy
Pergamus commands you: Go, seek Italy!
After a perilous journey over the waves,
You shall found a mighty empire
That shall dominate the world.
There, a hero’s death awaits you.”

The Trojan soldiers rush in, confirming that the city is being destroyed. Aeneas leads them into the fray.

PRISE DE TROIE ~ O lumière de Troie! – Nicolai Gedda – Plinio Clabassi – RAI 1969

May 19, 2022
Alma Mahler: Muse or Monster?

Above: Alma Maria Mahler Gropius Werfel

Wednesday, May 18th, 2022 – Aspect Chamber Music Series presenting works by Alma and Gustav Mahler, Korngold, and Zemlinsky at the Italian Academy. In the days leading up to this concert, I watched again the remarkable film Bride of the Wind; read about it here.

I had not realized that this evening would include a lecture; I generally avoid such events, though tonight’s commentary was not overly long. However, it was not until the lights went down and an announcement was made that wearing masks during the performance was “optional” that I realized how many people around us did not have masks on. Had I known this in advance, I would never have attended. But the lights were down and it would have been impossible to exit without disturbing people. So we stayed for the first half, feeling quite uncomfortable.

As a sort of unannounced prelude to the evening, pianist Adam Golka (above) played a Chopin nocturne with ravishing finesse. This established a beautiful musical atmosphere which was sustained throughout the performance.

A screen was then lowered and musicologist Nicholas Chong spoke of Alma’s famed beauty and of the many men in her life, while photos of the lady and her suitors were shown. What a life she led! Of course, many of her adventures are spoken of in the film Bride of the Wind. It might have been illuminating to hear more about her musical education and of her small catalog of surviving works, though.

Alexander Zemlinsky was Alma’s music teacher…and her lover. Tonight, Zemlinsky’s Three Pieces for Cello and Piano were performed for us by the Escher Quartet’s marvelous cellist Brook Speltz (photo above, by Anna Kariel), with Mr. Golka at the keyboard. The first of these, Humoreske, is a folkish piece that turns lyrical. Then comes Lied, a song of poignant beauty which expresses a sense of longing. The third piece, Tarantella, is a lively dance. To each of the three, Mr. Speltz brought his trademark warmth and expressiveness, well-matched by Mr. Golka’s sensitive and rhythmically deft playing.

Two sets of songs, four by Gustav Mahler and five by Alma Mahler, brought forth mezzo-soprano Rebecca Ringle Kamarei (above) and the Canadian pianist Brian Wagorn. Ms. Kamarei, a comely woman with a unique voice and a sure sense of feminine power, looked striking in a black gown trimmed with golden vine-like appliqué.

From Gustav Mahler’s vast song repertoire, Ms. Kamarei opened her set with the dramatic “Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht“; her voice instantly captivated me with its distinctive colour-palette, size, a compelling command of dynamics, and a thoughtful way with words. Continuing with the familiar “Rheinlegendchen“, the singer was sailing along beautifully when she had a momentary memory lapse and needed a re-set…this was charmingly handled, and she and the pianist resumed their music-making. In two of my most beloved songs from the Rückert-Lieder, “Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft” and “Liebst du um Schönheit”, Ms. Kamarei and Mr. Wagorn wove their spell thru the dreamy passages of the first song to the wryly romantic sensibilities of the second.

Above: pianist Bruce Wagorn

The five Alma Mahler songs drew my companion and me into even higher regard for Ms. Karamei and Mr. Wagorn. In “Die stille stadt“, the singer gave the signature descending phrases a nice sense of quiet drama; an unfortunate cellphone intrusion did not deter her from her poetic path: she displayed the great power of her voice, then reined it in to an impressive piano with complete control The pianist’s lovely postlude gave the song a perfectly polished end.

During “Laue Sommernacht“, the singer’s expressive hands were captivating to watch. Again, her assurance of dynamic ‘rightness’ found her skillfully pulling back from forte to piano, making an exciting effect. This songs ends quietly; throughout, Mr. Wagorn was the ideal collaborator. In “Bei dir ist es traut“, lyrical expressiveness and finely-shaded vocal colours kept us riveted to the music; and the gentle sway of the song’s central section had its own allure.

Mr. Wagorn’s gently restless piano figurations created the right summertime mood for “Ich wandle unter Blumenen“; but the singer cannot suppress a sudden burst of drama when she feels the desperate need for her lover’s embrace: her ardour creates a touch of witty irony.

Finally came “Lobgesang”, a song of praise. Introspective at the start, the music becomes quite grand. By now we are under Ms. Kamarei’s spell, and wanting to hear her in…some Wagner: Fricka and Waltraute came immediately to mind, as did – of course – the Wesendonck Lieder.

Meanwhile, our desire to escape became more urgent as the unmasked couple in front of us began coughing the moment the music ended. We left hastily, regretting that we were missing the concert’s Korngold finale.

~ Oberon

May 18, 2022
Remembering Makiko Narumi

Above: Makiko Narumi with director Eve Shapiro

April 30th, 2022 – Twenty years ago on this date, my friend the Japanese contralto Makiko Narumi passed away at the age of 33. I first met Makiko soon after I moved to New York City in 1998; I had heard her singing Schumann’s Frauenliebe und -leben at a Juilliard liederabend and was simply blown away by the sound of her voice, and a few days later she came into the opera room at Tower Records where I was working; she was stunned when I addressed her by name.

We struck up a friendship and over the next 3 years I heard her many times at Juilliard (both in opera and lieder), in the semi-final and final rounds of the Met Auditions, at a Licia Albanese Foundation gala, at private concerts, singing the Rückert Lieder with the Juilliard Orchestra, and – in 2000 – at Tanglewood as Dame Quickly in FALSTAFF, conducted by Seiji Ozawa. Her last public appearance was singing the Mahler 2nd at Carnegie Hall just a few weeks before she passed away…a very emotional evening for both of us.

One of the happiest days of our friendship: the Tanglewood FALSTAFF:

Here we are on the lawn at Tanglewood after the performance in the Summer of 2000…

…I even asked for her autograph!

Above: Makiko costumed as Dame Quickly…

…and here’s the entire cast of the Tanglewood FALSTAFF with Maestro Ozawa.

I love to think of her now, bolstering the contralto section in the heavenly choir.

Makiko’s memorial:

A message from Makiko’s parents:

April 29, 2022
Teresa Zylis-Gara ~ Tu che le vanità

The beloved Polish soprano Teresa Zylis-Gara sings Elisabetta’s great aria “Tu che le vanità” from Verdi’s DON CARLO, from a performance given at Rome in 1969. Thomas Schippers conducts.

Listen here.

April 27, 2022
Julia Faulkner ~ Vier Letzte Lieder

Above: Julia Faulkner as the Countess in Strauss’s CAPRICCIO

Soprano Julia Faulkner sings Richard Strauss’s Vier Letzte Lieder with the orchestra of the Vienna State Opera conducted by Michael Halász; the performance took place in 1993. Listen here.

Ms. Faulkner studied at the Eastman School of Music, and had a major career in both opera and concert. She had a long association with both the Bavarian State Opera and the Vienna State Opera, and she sang with such prestigious orchestras as the Concertgebouw, the Berlin Philharmonic, and the Cleveland Orchestra.

Julia Faulkner was a Met Auditions winner in 1985, made her Met debut in 1994 as Arabella, and in 2001-2002 sang several performances as Marianne in ROSENKAVALIER and the Voice of the Falcon in FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN with the Company.

She is currently Director of Vocal Studies at the Chicago Lyric Opera’s Ryan Opera Center. Her beautiful recording of Pergolesi’s STABAT MATER for Naxos is one of my favorites.

April 24, 2022
50 Years Ago ~ End of The Bing Era @ The Met

Above: Montserrat Caballé

On April 22nd, 1972, fifty years ago today, a matinee of Verdi’s DON CARLO was the final opera performance of Sir Rudolf Bing’s reign at The Metropolitan Opera. That evening, a gala concert featuring many great artists of the day paid tribute to the departing general manager.

I attended the matinee, and I tried to get a ticket for the evening’s farewell concert, but none were to be had. Here’s what I wrote in my diary about the afternoon’s DON CARLO:

“In spite of a few shortcomings, this was for the most part a superb and highly enjoyable performance; the opera itself is magnificent. Francesco Molinari-Pradelli’s conducting was dutiful, and not very inspired. I found myself wishing for a different maestro.

All the singers were perfectly suited to their roles. Two fine tenors – Leo Goeke as Count Lerma and Rod MacWherter as the Herald – sounded wonderful in their brief musical moments. Lucine Amara and Frederica von Stade graciously took on small roles in honor of Mr. Bing: Ms. Amara repeated her 1950 Met debut role as the Celestial Voice to lovely effect, whilst Ms. von Stade stepped back from such roles as Nicklausse, Hansel, and Cherubino to make a sensational Theobald, the queen’s page. What a voice this mezzo has, and how boyish and alert her acting was! Paul Plishka was amply resonant as the mysterious Friar (aka Charles V).

John Macurdy sang very well as the Grand Inquisitor, joining the great Cesare Siepi’s Philip II to make the confrontation of church and state a chilling scene. The Siepi voice remains impressive, giving us a wonderfully personal “Ella giammai m’amo“; his acting and bearing left nothing to be desired. Bravo!

Grace Bumbry as Eboli gave one of the finest performances I have heard from her. A couple of snags in the Canzone del Velo were quickly forgotten as she swept thru the fiery Garden Scene trio and on to a striking “O don fatale” which elicited great applause. Bumbry looks sensational onstage, though her acting is sometimes mannered.

Franco Corelli did not seem as vocally secure in the title-role as is the 1970 performances with Raina Kabaivanska, but still quite exciting. His singing was sustained and well-modulated, and of course he looks great onstage, though as an actor he sometimes went overboard. Still, Corelli always ignites the crowd. Sherrill Milnes sounded better today than he did earlier in the season; his Posa is a masculine, commanding figure, and he makes you care about the character’s fate.

Standing head and shoulders vocally above her colleagues, Montserrat Caballé was a sublime Elisabetta. Her regal bearing and innate sense of nobility made her physical stature irrelevant: she in unquestionably a queen in every sense of the word. She looked magnificent in the costumes, especially the rich red gown of the Auto da Fé scene. Ms. Caballé’s singing was thrilling from first note to last, and it is a pleasure to watch her sing: she expends no evident effort, whether producing an ensemble-topping forte or a shimmering pianissimo. Her farewell to the Countess of Aremberg (both verses) was a poised moment of poetic beauty. All afternoon, the diva seemed to inspire her colleagues, especially in the Closet Scene quartet which was a highlight of the performance. And in the great aria “Tu che le vanita“, Ms. Caballé rose to spectacular heights, pouring out the queen’s despair rich-toned phrases, and weaving in uncanny pianissimi of spine-tingling delicacy. The aria won a huge ovation. And then La Caballé ended the evening by holding the opera’s final note FOREVER! Her Elisabetta ranks with the greatest operatic interpretations I have experienced to date. Bravississima!!!“

Montserrat Caballé’s sensationally sustained final note at this performance is preserved on this recording of the opera’s ending from the broadcast: Cesare Siepi is Philip II, John Macurdy is the Grand Inquisitor, Placido Domingo is Don Carlo, and Paul Plishka’s is the Voice of Charles V. Listen here.

~ Oberon

April 21, 2022
Sasha Cooke’s Cherubino @ The Met

Above: mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke in a Cherubino selfie; borrowed from Sasha’s Facebook page

Author: Oberon

Thursday April 21st, 2022 – I very seldom go to evening performances at The Met these days; the long intermissions can leave me getting home after midnight, which makes me nervous. However, I could not possibly forego a chance to see Sasha Cooke’s Cherubino at The Met, and since this cast did not have a matinee I could attend, I went tonight with a plan to stay for two acts, thus hearing both of Sasha’s arias. Once there, the excellence of the entire cast made me wish I could stay to the end…to give Sasha a big “bravissima” during the bows.

The Met’s current NOZZE DI FIGARO production, needless to say, is updated, having a sort of Downton Abbey feel. The set, of metallic latticework, seemed ugly at first, but I soon got used to it as it revolved from room to room. Richard Eyre’s staging is excellent, each character being finely delineated. I “learned” this opera in the late 1960s when I attended several performances of the New York City Opera’s English-language production, and the words kept coming back to me this evening: opera in English works well for comedies. Of course, tonight it was Italian that was being sung.

The Israeli conductor Nimrod David Pfeffer (above) made his Met podium debut tonight; a member of the Company’s music staff since 2014, Maestro Pfeffer was given this last NOZZE of the current run, and he did a very fine job. The brisk overture set the tone of the evening, and he kept the energy level high whist still allowing the singers some leeway here and there to spin out their lines, or add a bit of embellishment. A couple of times, things got out-of-sync; but this was swiftly remedied. Of special note this evening were the expert continuo players: Howard Watkins (fortepiano) and Julia Bruskin (cello)…bravi!!

Every person in the cast was outstanding; from both a vocal and a theatrical point of view, this NOZZE stood with the finest performances of this masterpiece that l have attended.

Above, in a Ken Howard/Met Opera photo: Gerald Finley, Federica Lombardi, Christian van Horn, and Ying Fang

Let’s start with the title-role: Christian van Horn’s Figaro was at the same entrancing level as his Mefistofele here in 2018. With his house-filling voice and tall, slender frame, this singer compels you to attend to his every note, word, and gesture; yet somehow he also always manages to be part of the ensemble, so attentive to everything that happens around him. His “Se vuol ballare” and “Non piu andrai” were splendidly sung.

Mr. van Horn and the lovely Ying Fang as Susanna made a cozy couple; they were very comfortable with each other physically, and their by-play in the opening scene was quite intimate. It seemed obvious that, while their marriage vows were as yet unspoken, this would not be a “brautnacht” in the true sense of the word. Ms. Fang’s singing was simply delicious; her voice so sweet and clear in the big House. As an actress, she proved deft and subtle, with expert timing and witty facial expressions. One can hear already a Contessa in her future, but for now let us savour her delectable Susanna.

Above, the Almavivas: Ferderica Lombardi and Gerald Finley; a photo borrowed from Mr. Finley’s Twitter page

Gerald Finley’s Count was yet another feather in the cap of this wonderful Canadian bass-baritone, who I last saw as a magnificently-sung Athanaël in THAIS in 2017. He gave a perfect portrayal of the predatory Count, constantly thwarted by Figaro & Friends. I was surprised to discover that Mr. Finley is in his 60s now: he sounds and moves like a much younger man. The voice is in fine estate, including an interpolated top note as his dismissed his wife’s story about Cherubino’s presence in her boudoir: “I don’t believe you!”

I heard the Italian soprano Federica Lombardi earlier this season as Musetta in BOHEME and thought she was good but unexceptional. Reading her Playbill bio tonight, I found that it’s loaded with Mozart roles; and then, hearing her “Porgi amor“, I could easily understand how her Mozart is valued. The voice is clear, with a kind of quiet allure; she sometimes employs straight-tone to lovely effect, and her dynamics gave me tingles of delight. In the ensemble where her husband tries to win her forgiveness, Ms. Lombardi’s voice flew up to two crystalline high-Cs. A tall, slender woman, the soprano looks striking onstage, and she conveyed the Contessa’s nobility and the long-suffering abuse she’s endured in he marriage. But also: she let us know that Rosina is still a young woman, and understandably tempted by the over-sexed Cherubino. Ms. Lombardi is a valuable addition to The Met roster

Above, two girls and a boy in a bedroom: Ying Fang, Federica Lombardi, and Sasha Cooke; a Met Opera photo

I first heard Sasha Cooke when she was a Met Young Artist; she was in the same ‘class’ as my lovely Lisette Oropesa, and they both had their ‘stepping out’ in solo parts in HANSEL & GRETEL: Sasha as the Sandman, and Lisette as the Dew Fairy. I heard Sasha at various Young Artist presentations, and was much taken with both her voice and her distinctive personal beauty. Since then, she has become a world-class recitalist whilst continuing to take on choice operatic roles. This season, after being absent since 2008, Sasha returned to the Met as Edwige in Handel’s RODELINDA and as Cherubino.

The first thing I noticed about about Sasha tonight – aside from what a handsome boy she makes – was that the voice has grown larger and warmer over time, without losing its unique qualities. In the playful “Non so più cosa son“, she handled the Maestro’s swift tempo with complete assurance, and then made a very touching impression as the page turns more pensive at “E se non ho chi mi oda...” before polishing it off with a joyous …”parlo d’amor con me!” In the page’s trademark aria, “Voi che sapete“, Sasha’s warm tone and perfect diction set her comfortably in the high echelon with my delightful Cherubinos of the past: Biancamaria Casoni, Evelyn Lear, Rosalind Elias, Kay Creed, Helene Schneiderman, Frederica von Stade, Susanne Mentzer, and Susan Graham.

Sasha’s Cherubino was a lively youth, crawling under the bed to hide from the Count, enjoying her transformation into a girl, and finally clambering up a tall armoire to leap out of the window. In sum, she simply lived the part…and it was very sweet to read that Ms. von Stade had sent Sasha her bejeweled ‘Cherubino’ shoe buckles to honor Sasha’s return to The Met. Now, we just need to keep her here!

Four top-flight singing actors graced the cast with their presence: Elizabeth Bishop (whose Berlioz Dido and Gluck Iphigenie I had the good fortune to see) was a voicey Marcellina, with astute comic timing, whilst Maurizio Muraro, a basso buffo the great tradition of Salvatore Baccaloni and Fernando Corena, gave a powerful rendering of Bartolo’s “vendetta” aria. Paul Corona’s strong-toned Antonio was another plus, trying hard not to be duped by Figaro’s made-up story of who it was who jumped from the window.

As Don Basilio, Giuseppe Filianoti revealed his still-beautiful voice aligned to the touching colours he found in the words – something that comes naturally to a native Italian.

~ Oberon

April 21, 2022
Ghena Dimitrova: Berlioz ~ La Mort de Cléopatre

The great Bulgarian soprano Ghena Dimitrova sings Hector Berlioz’s La Mort de Cléopatre at a concert given in Valencia, Spain, in 1995.

Listen here.

April 20, 2022
Limón Dance Company @ The Joyce

Above: choreographer José Limón, photo by Paul Draper

Tuesday April 19th, 2022 – The Limón Dance Company celebrating their 75th Anniversary Season with performances at The Joyce Theatre. This evening marked my third experience watching the Limón troupe: the first was in 2008, and more recently in 2019. There have been quite a few changes in the Company’s roster since my last viewing, including the departures of such entrancing dancers as Jacqueline Bulnés and Jesse Obremski. But the current ensemble is a staggeringly beautiful assemblage of forms and faces.

Each work was prefaced by commentary from an unseen narrator…spoken by my longtime friend, actor Dion Mucciaito. These brief speeches provided us with interesting background material for the works being performed. But I wish Dion had appeared onstage to impart this information, because…he’s such a great-looking guy!

Doris Humphrey was José Limón‘s inspiration and mentor. Watching Humphrey’s achingly gorgeous AIR FOR THE G-STRING, created in 1928, gives us a sense of the timeless resonance – and the great necessity – of dance in our lives. Bringing to mind the iconic female danced-rituals of Isadora Duncan, AIR FOR THE G-STRING shows us the value of great music as the inspirational springboard for creating danceworks that will endure.

Above: from Humphrey’s AIR FOR THE G-STRING; photo by Christopher Jones

From the curtain-rise – on the dancers in silhouette against a rose-coloured back-panel – to final pose, AIR FOR THE G-STRING held us under its spell. Five women, clad in simple gowns of varied hues and long Renaissance-style golden cloaks with trains, move slowly in processions and circling motifs. Though not in any way religious in feeling, it conveys a depth of spirituality that speaks to me poignantly.

This evening, Frances Lorraine Samson, a petite woman with a space-filling presence, led the ensemble: Mariah Gravelin, Deepa Liegel, Jessica Sgambelluri, and Lauren Twomley…distinctive beauties all. This Humphrey work is part of that long continuum of dances of sisterhood that spans the centuries from the swans, slyphs, shades, and Wilis of classical ballet, through the more intimate Duncan, to Graham’s epic CHRONICLE, Balanchine’s SERENADE, Robbins’ ANTIQUE EPIGRAPHS, and Lydia Johnson’s CROSSINGS BY RIVER. Watching this spell-binding work tonight gave me an incredible lift of spirit – something so desperately needed in these bleak days as the world sometimes seems to be crumbling around us.

Two Limón masterpieces were central to this evening’s program. The first of these, PSALM, dates from 1967. The choreographer drew inspiration from the French author Andre Schwarz-Bart’s semi-historical novel, “The Last of the Just,” which traces the martyrdom of the Jews through thirty-six generations of the Levy family, ending at Auschwitz.

Above: Nicholas Ruscica in Limón’s PSALM; photo by Christopher Jones

For PSALM, Limón was unable to obtain the music he wanted to use – Stravinsky’s “Symphony of Psalms” – so he created the work in silence. Nearing the date of the premiere, the choreographer asked composer Eugene Lester to provide a score, based on his “million counts”. Later, Limón disciple Carla Maxwell, feeling the choreography called for something grander, commissioned a score from Jon Magnussen which included a full chorus, ten instruments, and a baritone soloist; it was to the Magnussen score that I saw PSALM performed in 2019. This evening, the Lester score – more intimate and highly personal – was back in place. Lester’s score is percussion-based, features a male singer/speaker, and somehow feels right.

Superbly lit Al Crawford, PSALM is a story of the triumph of the human spirit over death, created by Limón at a time when his own untimely death from pancreatic cancer loomed before him. The Lester score, while quite spare in contrast to the Magnussen, provides vividly contrasted rhythms which give the dancers an aural roadmap for the movement.

Eight dancers appear, seemingly searching for someone…or something. The whole Company then takes the stage, moving in finely-wrought patterns. In one passage, they kneel in a row, reminding me yet again of Robbins’ ANTIQUE EPIGRAPHS. Dancer Nicholas Ruscica was the central figure in tonight’s performance, commencing with a solo to the sound of a baritone voice. We hear the word “Adonai” (Hebrew for ‘God’) which put me in mind of Krzysztof Penderecki‘s monumental SEVEN GATES OF JERUSALEM; with such references, PSALM became more and more meaningful to me as it progressed.

Mr. Ruscica’s dancing was very subtle and expressively detailed. As the comings and goings of the populace surged around him, the danseur‘s movement took on a hypnotic, other-worldly feeling. He collapses; to delicate music, the women tend to him. He then awakens and begins to dance, first on his knees, and then – gathering strength – he rises. The group swarm about him in a celebratory dance. Circling in a dazzling passage, they lift him aloft.

PSALM thrilled me tonight, even more than it did in 2019. To me, it seems a dance very much for our time. All of the dancers are captivating to watch, and each has a distinctive personality. Mariah Gravelin, Savannah Spratt, and Lauren Twomley had featured roles among the women, with the ladies from the opening Bach work all dancing divinely here. Terrence D. M. Diable, B. Woods, Joey Columbus, MJ Edwards, and Johnson Guo are the Company’s wonder-men, and it was great to see Robert M. (‘Buddy’) Valdez again, very tall and handsome, with eyes that dazzle. In this large-scale scale work, dancers from Limón 2 – Erin Hollaman, Nicole Miera, and Sabrina Olivieri – joined the full Company.

José Limón created the solo CHACONNE in 1942 to the familiar music from Bach’s violin Partita #2. Onstage tonight, standing in separate pools of light, were violinist Johnny Gandelsman and guest-artist dancer Shayla-Vie Jenkins. Ms. Jenkins, a poised beauty with the gift of lyrical grace, wore trousers and a soft, loose-fitted blouse. When Mr. Gandelsman struck up the familiar Bach piece, the dancer began to move in place, her expressive arms and hands speaking to us in dance’s silent language. Later her movement becomes almost balletic, her dancing at once supple and courtly. With the violinist’s subtle nuances tempting the ear, the two made this Limón gem a sheer delight.

Above: Samantha Spratt, MJ Edwards, and B Woods in Tarpaga’s ONLY ONE WILL RISE; photo by Christopher Jones

In line with the current quest for choreographer-based companies to find new works to provide fresh opportunities for their dancers once the founding choreographer has passed away, tonight we saw ONLY ONE WILL RISE, choreographed by Olivier Tarpaga. This work tells of the ‘dark horse’, the person who unexpectedly triumphs in the end: in this case, it was the the youthful-looking MJ Edwards, who made a very fine impression both in movement and presence, with a poetic face. The choreographer provides brief solos for the other dancers, too, as well as well-constructed ensemble passages. The work is quite dark, and the final illumination of the dancers, with Mr. Edwards having risen in their midst, was a beautiful moment.

Above: Johnson Guo, Nicholas Ruscica, and Lauren Twomley in ONLY ONE WILL RISE; photo by Christopher Jones

What gave ONLY ONE WILL RISE its appeal was the music, composed by the choreographer and guitarist Tim Motzer, and played live onstage by Mr. Motzer, with his fellow musicians Daniel Johnson and Saidou Sangare. They were fantastic.

It’s not easy to find danceworks that can appear on programs alongside the masterworks of some of the world’s all-time greatest choreographers without being eclipsed. The Balanchine, Graham, and Taylor companies have to work in this current situation, as does Limón. Perhaps though, it’s true that – as Miki Orihara once said – “To find the future of dance, we must look to the past.”

~ Oberon

April 19, 2022