Category: Uncategorized

~ Author: Oberon

Above, the evening’s artists: Adam Barnett-Hart, Robin Scott, Brook Speltz, Paul Neubauer, and Pierre Lapointe. Photo by Tristan Cook, courtesy of Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center.

Sunday January 10th, 2026 – The wonderful musicians of the Escher String Quartet were on top form this evening for a nicely-contrasted program of works by Mozart and Dvorak, along with the New York premiere of a piece by Chris Rogerson. Violist de luxe Paul Neubauer joined the Eschers for the Rogerson.

After checking their website a few days before this concert, I was aware that the quartet had taken on a new violinist; however, when they took the stage, it wasn’t the person I was expecting to see. No announcement was made as to the change. In any case, Robin Scott proved a very fine addition to the ensemble.  

Mozart’s “Prussian” quartet (K. 575) was the opening work; in the melodic flow of the initial Allegretto, it was evident that the trademark Escher blend was intact. The music is gracious, with rhythmic variety and virtuosic elements. Brook Speltz’s cello pulse was a constant element, and the music offers Mr. Scott opportunities to shine. Adam Barnett-Hart and Mr. Speltz revel in the main theme, which Mozart marked as “dolce” (sweetly).

The Andante has a gentle feeling, with lovely harmonies. The main theme is passed from player to player, the better to savour their distinctive timbres. The Menuetto veers between elegance and animation, with a dotty segment and unison motifs. Mr. Speltz’s cello is again prominent. The cellist and violist Pierre Lapointe harmonize to open the concluding movement. There’s lively playing from all, with passages of virtuosity yielding briefly to a lyrical theme.  

Composer Chris Rogerson received a warm greeting from the packed house when he stepped onstage to introduce his 2024 Quintet for Two violins, Two Violas, and Cello, having its New York premiere tonight. He spoke of the various types of clouds which had inspired this six-movement piece. Master violist Paul Neubauer joined the Eschers for the 25-minute work, filled with shifting moods and colours. 

Eerie chords evoke the foggy atmosphere of Sratus; the plucked cello evokes the drippy dampness, and a high violin theme has a dreamy feeling. The music fades away, and Zephyr commences. This music is infused with a stealthy feeling, with glissandos lending a slippery sound. Nimbus brings a dark, steady rain: the music veers from somber to quirky. The Barnett-Hart violin sings of longing, then is joined by Mr. Scott in a dirge-like theme. 

The longest movement – Cumulus – opens with the violists and cello, soon joined by the violins. Sorrowful feelings are mingled with anxiousness; Mr. Speltz’s cello adds depth to the atmosphere. The mood picks up a bit, and then a poignant theme hints at hopefulness. Mr. Neubauer has a solo passage, gorgeously played. Wistful moments give way to passion before subsiding into lyricism. For all its appealing qualities, this movement did seem a bit too long.

Storm opens urgently, with plucking strings like driven raindrops. The wind rises, and the music reaches a sudden, dramatic end. The final movement, Cirrus, is bleak and dreary. A pensive violin theme is finely rendered by Mr. Barnett-Hart, ascending to a high range. Throughout this work, I thought of Britten…and of Debussy. The audience seemed to immerse itself in Mr. Rogerson’s music, giving him a warm ovation at the end. 

Following the interval, Dvorak’s Quartet in G-major, Op. 106, splendidly played, gave me my usual love/hate dilemma with this composer’s music. The Allegro moderato has an exciting start, with swirling dances and a folkish feel. After a while, I find my mind wandering. The long tones and dense harmonies of the Adagio are truly appealing; a slow-rise gypsy dance – the violin over pulsing figurations – turns intense. But then it all becomes a bit aimless. The Molto vivace is a charming, elvish dance, with more treats from the Barnett-Hart violin. In the finale, the composer seems to have an over-abundance of ideas to bring forth, the onward impetus of the music impeded by detours and cul de sacs. The sumptuous playing of the Eschers made me long for Beethoven…or Mendelssohn. But that is a minority report, for the audience gave the players a rousing ovation at the end, in which I was happy to join. 

~ Oberon

~ Author: Mark Anthony Martinez II

Above: Maxim Vengerov

Friday February 6th, 2026 – The Budapest Festival Orchestra and Maxim Vengerov wowed with one of the best interpretations of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto I’ve ever heard, along with another big surprise that opened the concert.

The Budapest Festival Orchestra (BFO) is the creation of conductor, composer, and general multi-hyphenate Iván Fischer in the 1980s. The orchestra was created with the intent of having another world-class orchestra and is the main touring orchestra of Hungary.

The program featured favorites that I knew were going to be delightful. It was, in a way, a night of surprises as well.

As the lights started to dim, the stage was still empty except for the chairs already laid out. Soon, people started to file onto the stage, but without instruments. Mr. Fischer was among the group of people, and he addressed the audience as the mass of performers stood behind him.

I first thought, “Is this the chorus for the orchestra?” The first piece was by Arvo Part, a renowned choral composer. Fischer quickly answered my questions when he revealed that the chorus of singers behind him were actually the orchestra musicians. The only time I’ve heard an orchestra have to do any sort of vocalization is in the West Side Story suite, and even then, shouting the word “Mambo” is far different from singing an entire piece on the Carnegie stage.

But the orchestra sang the Part piece Summa (which was the choral debut of the piece on this stage) with aplomb. The piece was haunting and beautiful and reminiscent of ancient chants. I was impressed that the musicians were able to sing this choral work. The piece didn’t demand vocal fireworks, but to be able to perform in a medium one never normally performs in on one of the world’s most important stages was impressive.

Once the piece was over, the orchestra filed out and came back with their instruments. I initially saw that the BFO would perform Tchaikovsky’s elegant but infamously difficult Violin Concerto, but I hadn’t realized until the day before that it would be Maxim Vengerov as the soloist.

Vengerov is known worldwide as a violin virtuoso and conductor and, for quite a while, stepped away from the soloist track. I last saw him at Carnegie when he performed Brahms chamber pieces, which were stunning but very different from this high-flying concerto.

Vengerov was dressed in all black and didn’t make the usual soloist sartorial choice to stand out from the other musicians. The orchestra started to play the regal opening theme, and when Vengerov started to play, things felt different.

The long initial lines of his intro had such finesse and control. In a lot of ways, Vengerov’s playing felt more like a singer than a violinist, with the long, elegant phrases being sustained by breath support. It was just so beautiful and sustained, like the line would be never-ending.

Beyond the beauty, what was interesting was that Vengerov didn’t act like the usual soloist I was used to seeing. Soloists inevitably have a sense of diva-ness that is usually part of the aesthetic. The allure of a concerto is partially the high-wire drama of “can they actually do this?!” when going through extremely difficult passages.

I’ve seen performers of concertos who breezed through fiendishly difficult parts, and it doesn’t seem as exciting. Somehow, though, Vengerov was able to maintain a stoicism that didn’t belie the technical feats he was accomplishing, and it was mesmerizing.

Vengerov’s control over the violin was astounding. The pianissimo sections in the second movement were perfect, with musicality and phrasing that were unmatched.

Towards the climax of the third movement, I caught Vengerov sharing a smile with the concertmaster, as both knew what a special moment it was. And with that, the concerto was over. Vengerov received a standing ovation, one that was truly deserved.

Once the ovation died down and Vengerov left and returned to the stage, he played the first movement of Bach’s Violin Sonata in G minor as an encore. Once again, the hall was enraptured in silence, and we were left with a beautiful final treat.

After the intermission, the BFO performed a moving rendition of Brahms’s Symphony No. 2 in D major.

The symphony is such a breath of fresh air, especially given how cold NYC is at the moment. The BFO made it feel as if spring had wafted into the hall. The orchestra displayed such control and elegance, but also individuality.

I loved how one of the cellists played so passionately and moved with the music, while the orchestra as a unit played beautifully together. Technically, the BFO was immaculate. The pianissimos in the fourth movement, in particular, were deftly performed.

The BFO and Vengerov truly outdid themselves tonight.

~ Mark Anthony Martinez II

I first saw Ms. Price at the Old Met, singing Fiordiligi in COSI FAN TUTTE in English. At the new Met, I saw her in ANTONY & CLEOPATRA, DON GIOVANNI, TROVATORE, BALLO IN MASCHERA, MANON LESCAUT, and the Verdi REQUIEM. Her song recitals were always enthralling, her voice remaining clear and lush throughout a long career. Happy birthday, dear diva!

Watch and listen here.

~ Author: Mark Anthony Martinez II

Above: Juan Diego Florez

Thursday February 5th, 2026 – A night of encores from the famous operatic tenor Juan Diego Florez. Florez has been a staple of my own operatic upbringing for years, and I was excited to see him live for the first time. His famous renditions of Ah! mes amis are what I listened to as I was learning the piece, and even though he was mostly performing art songs the evening (or so I thought), I knew it would be a masterclass in performance.

The program was a typical recital format, with mostly art songs and some select arias from the most famous repertoire, real crowd pleasers.

The program started with Rossini’s Le sylvain, from Péchés de vieillesse, one of Rossini’s song cycles. The tenor and his long-standing collaborative pianist Vincenzo Scalera took the stage and, without an introduction, started the piece. It is a great song to start a program with because it has such a long piano introduction that it really set the stage.

Florez is known for his high tessitura and blazing coloratura, so it was interesting to hear him sing a song that was low and melancholic. He certainly lived up to being a leading tenor and didn’t merely sing the songs, but made this (and every) song into a dramatic moment.

Some singers prefer subtlety in performance, but Florez made great use of the full stage, essentially emoting everything from the songs.

Interestingly, Florez walked out after the first song and came back almost immediately once the next set was starting. It was an odd choice, since usually a performer might leave after an extended moment of singing. The two performers more or less followed this pattern the entire night.

I loved the Bellini set of art songs. Bellini, though more known for his operas, left a set of gorgeous art songs that have all of the Bellini color but are best suited for nights such as this. My favorite among the set was La ricordanza. It really showed off Florez’s impressive head voice in the right ways.

It was a real treat to hear a piano transcription of Bellini’s Almen se non poss’io played as a capstone to the set. Florez had left the stage, but Scalera played the beautiful aria as a great prelude of sorts. I loved that the performance wasn’t just a solo recital necessarily, but truly highlighted the artistry of both performers.

The last set before the intermission was by the last remaining titan of bel canto composers, Donizetti. Florez had to throw in a high note at some point and pleased the crowds at the end of Ah, rammenta, o bella Irene.

The crowd was were particularly reactive tonight compared to any other concert I’d been to. I love that the audience truly adored the music and Florez. I did feel at times that perhaps the admiration caused the crowd to react to every part of the performance instead of ones that might have been more justified. But I can’t be a hater for people who love music.

The second part of the program was more eclectic, but I actually liked it more. It felt like it was more at home in Florez’s identity. I loved Bella enamorada, and the long-held note in it was particularly exquisite.

The two songs that followed were in Spanish and really felt alive in Florez’s native tongue. The first was the song Sueña, guitarrico mío, from El guitarrico, and the second was from the zarzuela La alegría del batallón by Serrano. The second piece is a common tenor recital song, and Florez used the comedic aspects of it well to rally up the already very live audience.

The remaining songs on the program were aria classics, and surprisingly my favorite was the famous Che gelida manina by Puccini. I love Puccini, but Florez’s voice is better suited for the lighter side of opera. But without the giant orchestration, Florez beautifully captured the aria in all the right moments.

I knew there had to be at least one encore, but I had no idea what was going to happen. There was, secretly it seems, a third set of songs that were not in the program.

The first set of encores was actually my favorite set of the entire night. Florez strode out on stage with a guitar and accompanied himself in one Neapolitan song and two songs in Spanish. These were wonderful, and honestly, if he performed an entire night of these songs, I would go back in a heartbeat.

I thought that surely this must be the last of it, but no, there was more. I had already started to leave when the duo came back and sang the famous Ah! mes amis (a real full-circle moment for me). I figured there had to be more after this, so instead of leaving, I stayed seated. Florez and Scalera came out several more times and ended the night with Una furtiva lagrima by Donizetti, another classic and a perfect end to this secret third set.

~ Mark Anthony Martinez II

Above: dancer Gabriel Matias

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday January 7th matinee – Noche Flamenca has been at The Joyce all week, presenting the world premiere performances of Irrationalities, inspired by Goya’s Human Follies (Los Disparates) and choreographed by Martín Santangelo.

The evening-length work features original music, performed live by singers Emilio Florido, Carmina Cortés, and Salva Cortés, and guitarists Salva de María and Eugenio Iglesias. Masks by visual artist Mary Frank made an impact as the afternoon unfolded, and a huge contribution to the production’s success came from lighting designer Mark London. 

The dancers listed were Paula Bolaños, María de la O, Stella Goldin García, Alexa Ratini, Juan Ogalla, Jesús Helmo, David Nieto, and Brazil-born Gabriel Matias. The playbill contained bios of these dancers, but no photos; it was therefore impossible, during the show, to put a name to a face. 

The performance opened with the entire cast lounging on a low platform; one gentleman was speaking to the group but as I forgot most of my Spanish years ago, it was unclear what he was saying. One fellow danced briefly, and there was some clapping and a bit of singing. 

The group breaks up and the dancing begins in earnest; the guitarists are fantastic, the singers superb. Señora Cortés has an uncanny voice: earthy, throaty, and full of passion and power…her soul seemed to communicate directly with mine: truly mesmerizing. The male vocalists are likewise impressive, and thoroughly engaging. 

The program lists ten scenes – or stories – each seemingly related to one of the Goya artworks that have inspired the narrative. Since these images are not depicted in the playbill, one must have some fore-knowledge in order to appreciate the connection between art and dance. In some of the numbers, Ms. Frank’s mythic masks refer to the Goya visuals; these were especially telling. As the program evolved, it became less imperative to try to connect what we were hearing and watching to the artwork that inspired the creators: it was a performance of music and dance that was visually stunning, rhythmically entrancing, and musically magical. 

A quartet for the male dancers had a competitive air; the footwork bedazzled us, the pride and passion of each dancer filling the music with meaning. This was followed by an equally vivid trio for the three women, clad in ruffled skirts. There was a poignant duet for the seated Señora Cortés and one of the female dancers, bound together by a long swathe of white fabric. Siguiriya, a long solo danced by Señor Ogalla, was the only segment in which the dancer (or dancers) was named. Ogalla’s dancing was a textbook in musicality and deeply-rooted knowledge of the style.

There was so much to absorb, and so much to savor, in this production. The audience seemed enthralled by it all; there was nary of whisper or a cough to be heard, though frequent olés! spurred the dancers and the players on to surpass themselves as the afternoon flowed by.

My first introduction to the world of flamenco came from watching Fanny Ara dancing some solos in a mixed bill a few seasons ago; I was so hoping Fanny would be dancing at The Joyce this afternoon. But there was a captivating new presence today to further enhance my interest in these dances: the young Brazilian danseur  Gabriel Matias. With his silken black hair swept back into a top-knot, Gabriel’s noble bearing and impeccable footwork held the audience under a spell. What a gift to the world of dance!

~ Oberon

~ Author: Mark Anthony Martinez II

Patti LuPone’s solo show at Carnegie Hall on February 2nd, 2026, was a love letter: to love itself and to her fans. She sang about every variety of love: passionate, long-term, maternal, carnal, even more carnal, familial, somehow even more carnal, and every minute of her performance showed why she is the legendary performer she is.

I was thrilled to see Ms. LuPone, having somehow missed every previous opportunity to catch her onstage, whether in a show or in concert. The hall was packed, and the stage was awash in a hazy palette of pastel pinks and blues.

The concert, titled Matters of the Heart, turned out to be LuPone’s third time performing the program. She first conceived it with her longtime collaborator Scott Wittman while living in Los Angeles in 1993, and revived it roughly thirty years later.

The stage was set with the Four Play String Quartet, Will Curry, Molly Goldman, Suzy Perelman, and Jessica Wang, alongside Joseph Thalken, the concert’s music director and pianist. After a brief musical prelude, LuPone walked onstage in a white dress lined with rhinestones and adorned with ribbons at the neckline. She sauntered in, introduced the evening, and immediately captured the audience with her comic timing, before singing a single note.

LuPone opened with a medley built around “Love Makes the World Go ’Round” from Carnival, breaking into spoken monologue as she guided the audience through the night’s musical journey.

From the outset, I was struck by the fact that she appeared to perform the entire concert from memory, something many singers opt not to do in such a stripped-down setting. The only pause she took between numbers was to sip water from a glass perched atop the piano; otherwise, she powered through the evening like a workhorse.

She sang beautifully, of course, but this being my first time seeing her live, I hadn’t fully realized the sheer magnitude of her comic ability. Some of the night’s best moments came from its most outrageous songs, which showcased both her vocal prowess and her acting chops. Her rendition of “Shattered Illusions,” originally sung by Fascinating Aïda, set the tone for the evening. The song recounts a series of failed romances, each riddled with dashed expectations, culminating in a verse about having sexual relations with an abbot while dressed in a habit: if that gives any indication of what followed.

Another standout was her performance of Randy Newman’s “Better Off Dead,” which hilariously captured the misery of a one-sided relationship. Each complaint ended with the deadpan refrain, “Better off dead.” The song concluded with the strings quoting the theme from Psycho, perfectly sealing the piece’s off-kilter energy.

After several more numbers, the first half of the concert ended with a rousing rendition of “Being Alive” from Company, allowing LuPone her big diva moment of the night.

What was particularly wonderful to witness was how generously LuPone shared the spotlight. When the audience responded enthusiastically to a song, she consistently turned to acknowledge the instrumentalists, inviting them to stand and receive their applause as well.

In that same spirit, toward the end of the evening she brought Scott Wittman onstage to thank him for his collaboration and to give him the flowers he so richly deserved for helping make the concert possible.

After intermission, the white flowers atop the piano were replaced with red ones. LuPone returned to the stage in a purple, rhinestoned dress and launched into the second half of the show.

This set opened with a medley of “When the World Was Young” and “I Never Do Anything Twice,” another standout in which music and comedy worked hand in hand. At one point, during a reference to certain sexual acts, the musicians donned white blindfolds while LuPone produced a whip and cracked it several times. She was not joking when she said that a good portion of the evening’s repertoire revolved around lust.

Some of the sweetest moments of the night came when, between songs, LuPone spoke candidly about her own life and loves. One highlight was her story of how she met her husband, by sitting on his lap to get his attention. It was deeply satisfying to see such a consummate performer not only as a singer and actor, but as a person whose lived experience fuels the stories she tells onstage.

LuPone is also famously unafraid to speak her mind, a trait that often results in unintentional viral moments. Near the end of the evening, she addressed the current political climate in the United States, expressing her anger and heartbreak over recent developments at the Kennedy Center, including its renaming and a planned multi-year shutdown. She urged the audience not to stand idly by, but to protect art and culture in this country.

Before her final number, LuPone briefly left the stage and returned holding a disposable camera, snapping photos of the audience and her fellow performers as the musicians played the outro of the previous song. When she finished, she tossed the camera into the audience, presumably to her husband, though if not, one lucky patron went home with quite a souvenir. The concert ended with “Haste Ye Back,” bringing a truly wonderful evening of music to a close.

~ Mark Anthony Martinez II

Above: Alexander Sitkovetsky, Wu Qian, Andriana Chuchmann, and Isang Enders; photo by Tristan Cook

~ Author: Oberon

Sunday February 1st, 2026 – Having missed last week’s all-Beethoven program at Chamber Music Society due to the storm, it was lovely to settle into our seats at Alice Tully Hall for an all-Shostakovich program this evening which drew together an ensemble of superb musicians, including a lovely soprano who was new to me: Andriana Chuchmann. 

The Sitkovetsky Trio opened the concert with the Trio #1, Op. 8, in C-minor. It’s always a great pleasure to hear – and to watch – these three wonderful players: Alexander Sitkovetsky (violin), Wu Qian (piano), and Isang Enders (cello). The stage lighting – all evening – was particularly impressive.

Composed in 1923, and structured in a single movement, the trio opens in an andante mood; a descending motif, coloured by sorrow, is introduced by the cello. Mr. Enders’ gorgeous tone and soulful expressiveness immediately draws us in, and soon he is exchanging phrases with the silken sound of the Sitkovetsky violin. Ms. Qian, at the Steinway, brings radiant, glowing tones to the mix. Pulsing music turns sprightly, and then things get noisy, with insistent piano rhythms. The opening theme is reprised, only to become more animated as a violin/piano dance springs up. Mr. Enders cello sings over delicate piano phrases, and Mr. Sitkovetsky’s delicious phrases lead on to tempestuous, urgent sounds from the Steinway. Peace is restored; the poignant violin and the meltingly lovely cello entwine. The music becomes epic – cinematic, really – before lapsing into a playfulness that yields to passion. 

Ms. Chuchmann, in a ravishing silver-blue gown, then joined the trio for Seven Romances on Poems of Alexander Blok, Op. 127. Again, the lighting of the stage was truly evocative as a heartfelt cello solo introduces the soprano’s clear, lyrical voice is the sad Song of Ophelia. Ms Qian at the Steinway gives a grandiose feeling to Gamayun, the Bird of Prophecy with energetic, almost relentless vocalism from Ms. Chuchmann. A more pensive air leads to some very sweet singing; the song has a somber finish, with four accented notes from the keyboard. Violin and voice blend in We were together (That Troubled Night) which has the feel of a folksong. The soprano’s tonal radiance was especially appealing here, whilst Mr. Sitkovetsky’s violin spun out high, buzzing motifs. 

Ms. Qian and Mr. Enders blend beautifully to introduce Ms. Chuchmann’s ardent singing in The City Sleeps (Deep in Sleep). As the remaining three songs – The Storm, Secret Signs, and Music – unfolded, I stopped taking notes, the better to savor the music and the soprano’s inspired renditions, as well as the intrinsic poetry of the playing of the three musicians. 

During the interval, a vast array of percussion instruments were set up on the stage in order to give us an opportunity to hear a fascinating chamber arrangement, by Viktor Derevianko, of the Symphony #15, Op. 141.

Viktor Derevianko’s setting of the symphony seems to have had the blessing of the composer, and it was sensationally played this evening by pianist Inon Barnatan, percussionists Ayano Kataoka, Ian Rosenbaum, and Victor Caccese, and a peerless string duo: violinist Paul Huang and cellist Jonathan Swensen. These players made for a performance as fascinating visually as it was musically: watching the choreographed alertness of the percussionists, Mr. Barnatan shifting between grand piano and celesta, and Mssrs. Huang and Swensen’s animated bowing and brotherly camaraderie was truly engrossing, whilst references to Rossini’s GUILLAIME TELL and Wagner’s GOTTERDAMMERUNG teased this opera lover’s ear charmingly. 

While it was a challenge to the musicians to sustain a 45-minute work that is normally awash with a wider variety of sonic colours, the ensemble – also having had to endure a coughing fest from audience members during some of the most intriguing musical passages – came thru with flying colours, evoking a house-wide standing ovation as they took their bows:

Above: Ian Rosenbaum, Inon Barnatan, Paul Huang, Ayano Kataoka, Victor Caccese, and Jonathan Swensen; photo by Tristan Cook 

~ Oberon

Above: Emma Grimsley and Matt Dengler in Heartbeat Opera’s MANON! Photo by Andrew Boyle.

~ Author: Mark Anthony Martinez II

January 30th, 2026 – What a treat! Heartbeat Opera’s translation and re-envisioning of the classic Massenet opera MANON brought a breath of fresh air and timeless relevancy to this classic staple.

Heartbeat Opera is known for their innovative performances. Setting TOSCA in Iran, bringing to the forefront the homosexual subtext that exists within Tchaikovsky’s EUGENE ONEGIN, and in this performance staging Manon more like a musical theatre piece than an opera.

Re-envisioning classic opera is at times a controversial take. I personally think that as long as the piece makes sense and has a point, I’m all for new imaginings. I will say that when I first saw that MANON would be done in a more musical theater style, with amplification, I wondered if this was a good choice or just done in order to be “different.” But the more I thought about it, Massenet’s Manon is really similar to a musical. The famous tunes like “En Fermant Les Yeux” aren’t typical bombastic arias, and if anything are closer in style to sweet ballads you might hear on Broadway now. So I went in with an open mind.

Before going into any more detail, I’ll say this: the opening night performance of MANON! was fantastic, moving, beautiful, and so well staged. It was perhaps one of my favorite stagings and performances of an opera I’d seen in a long while, and it was truly an intelligent and worthwhile adaptation. Not everything was perfect. There was one line I noticed that was fumbled and some pitchy notes, but as a whole work, it was phenomenal.

I think the ultimate litmus test of whether something is successful in creating a show is if a true neophyte can go in and enjoy it. I went to see the show with a friend who hasn’t had much exposure to opera or musicals for that matter, but she loved it. That’s not something that can be said of most productions.

As we entered, audience members were given a letter with a green wax seal bearing the Heartbeat Opera logo. A very cute touch if you know how important letters are to the plot.

The set at the Irondale in Brooklyn was minimal but interesting. The stage initially was draped in a white cloth with chandeliers hanging right above it. Emma Grimsley, who plays Manon, prances out, inspects the stage, and then pulls the cloth away, revealing the stage underneath, and leaves.

The show then starts for real as Kathryn McCreary (Pousette), Natalie Walker (Javotte), and Glen Seven Allen (Guillot) stampede onto the stage for a very lightly veiled night of debauchery and sex.

The audience and I loved these heel characters who so adeptly sang and acted out their roles. They all brought life and comedy to characters who could easily become mere plot devices.

Ms. Walker was the socially intelligent courtesan who did her best to navigate the difficult life of depending on fickle men for her livelihood and safety. She was always funny but had clear direction and motivation for survival. Ms. McCreary was the bawdier of the two and was the one who spoke up for the needs of both herself and her comrade of sorts.

What I loved about this duo was that they had a humanity to them that made them more than plot devices. You could tell they fought for their own survival, but they also cared for the well-being of Manon, a young country girl who was being preyed upon by Guillot.

Guillot was fantastically acted and sung by Glenn Steven Allen. He was a lecherous older man who preyed on weak women, but he had a comedic quality that didn’t make him a blank villain. We never rooted for him, but you knew that when he was on stage it would be an entertaining romp.

The orchestra was behind the stage, which is an added difficulty because the conductor and singers can’t see each other easily, but from the moment the music came in until the end, there was never an issue.

I was wondering if something different would be done with the music since it was a new interpretation of the opera, but besides being a reduced ensemble, the music stayed true to the original.

When Ms. Grimsley made her first real entrance, the plot really got started. What struck me about this production was how well acted it was. Opera is largely a music-first art form, but by treating this as a musical theatre piece, the singers were able to lean into the acting to enhance the drama of the music and plot. For instance, when Jamari Darling (Lescaut) and Ms. Grimsley arrive on stage, you can immediately tell that there is something sinister about their relationship; this sets the plot into motion.

Darling was a scene-stealing actor and a true audience favorite. He brought a sliminess to Lescaut, but in a sort of Disney villain way. You hated him for what he was doing, but he was just so entertaining that you couldn’t help but want him to stay on stage longer. On top of singing and acting, Darling is a phenomenal dancer and brought tastes of the NYC ballroom world to the stage.

Ms. Grimsley truly embodied the character of Manon phenomenally. At times young and naive, but always with the femme fatale lurking underneath. As is the case with most shows when one is the title character, Ms. Grimsley had the monumental task of performing almost nonstop, and she did it with technical perfection and aplomb.

Every note of coloratura was used in service of what Manon was feeling; every musical gesture furthered the plot. Ms. Grimsley really was the star of the show for a reason.

As the plot progressed and Des Grieux came into the fold, the two of them had instant chemistry. Matt Dengler looked and sounded like the naive but loving chevalier. You could tell from the very beginning that the two of them truly felt a special bond, and one couldn’t help but grin when they absconded away with Guillot’s carriage.

Throughout the entire show, what struck me was how true to the material the production was, but also how much the plot was elevated by the adaptation. Things like the genuine sexual chemistry between Manon and Des Grieux that brought about her downfall would normally be lost in florid staging. However, in this adaptation, the more carnal side of their relationship is not hidden or merely alluded to, but shown, all while still being PG-13, in a true-to-life, realistic way. It now actually made sense why Des Grieux would leave the priesthood for Manon, as one example.

Heartbeat Opera’s production of MANON! was truly a wonderful show and a great re-imagining of a classic. I can’t wait to see what their next performance will be.

Note: The run of MANON! has been extended thru February 15th. Details here.

~ Mark Anthony Martinez II

Elena Stikhina and Jonathan Tetelman (above) join Ludovic Tézier in the principal roles in a performance from the Vienna State Opera, conducted by Pier Giorgio Morandi.

Watch and listen here.

I saw Ms. Stikhina’s Mimi and Mr. Tetelman’s Pinkerton at The Met and very much enjoyed their singing.

An additional treat for me in the Vienna TOSCA is having Jusung Gabriel Park in the role of Angelotti; this Korean baritone was an audience favorite at the 2021 Cardiff Singer of the World competition.

Soprano Elsa Dreisig and tenor Matteo Ivan Rašić in a 2025 New Year’s Eve concert from Munich. The conductor is Ivan Repušić.

Watch and listen here.