OPERA HAS ACQUIRED a reputation of being a staid and exclusionary art form—I think Wagner’s unapproachable Ring cycle is largely to blame for this—but at its heart, it functions as an incredibly populist form of entertainment. Telling tales of bawdy human behavior, operas can be full of lust and blood and humor, set to melodies that were the equivalent of pop hits in their day. The Portland Opera kicks off its 46th season with a double feature of shorts, two short and dissimilar works that display opera as both low and high art. Not surprisingly, it’s most engaging at the low end, as in the opera’s first half, Ruggerio Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci, the tale of a clown who catches his wife cheating on him. (As a result he becomes one very sad, very angry clown.) The second half, a staging of Carl Orff’s oratorio Carmina Burana, is a choral piece accompanied by dancers from BodyVox. It’s arty, intermittently boring, and occasionally beautiful.
First of all, everything on stage looks gorgeous. The seemingly simplistic set for Pagliacci contains surprising depth, capturing the ramshackle feel of a touring caravan. During Pagliacci‘s second half, we see Canio (Richard Crawley) confront his unfaithful wife Nedda (Emily Pulley) in front of their paying audience, while we’re also allowed a glimpse behind the stage to the shabby reality of the clowns’ backstage lives. After the second intermission, the curtain rises on the bloody aftermath of Pagliacci—a bold and effective staging decision—before segueing into the Orff.
Carmina Burana is known for the bombastic “O Fortuna,” but the rest of the work feels disappointingly aimless. Based on Medieval Latin texts, Carmina‘s collection of tableaux flits around the finite qualities of earthbound existence: the advent of spring, the fleeting grace of young love, the plight of a swan that’s cooked and eaten. It’s accompanied by striking if baffling imagery (a tree is suspended horizontally above the action, apples are rolled across the stage) and some exceptional dancing from BodyVox. Still, it’s hard to become engaged by any of this; it feels like an intellectual exercise rather than an emotional one. And that’s the end result of this production as a whole: it’s more of a museum piece than anything relevant to our current-day lives. Then again, it’s not as though a visit to the museum ever hurt anybody.
Lanamann writes “Still, it’s hard to become engaged by any of this; it feels like an intellectual exercise rather than an emotional one.”
Is it too much to ask of an audience to engaged intellectually more than emotionally? I guess it is too much to ask of a Portland reviewer to have a basic music education. Orff’s music is exquisite and it was exquisitely played by the orchestra Sunday afternoon. Rock on Portland Opera.
In reference to Ned Lannamann’s review of the Portland Opera and BodyVox’s presentation of Pagliacci and Carmina Burana.
Since any public performance is open to the audience’s interpretation, I am sharing my interpretation since your review did not convey the sub-text of the tie in between the two operatic opuses (no doubt due to your editor’s heavy handed fitting your review into available space.)
Pagliacci, ends with death. Carmina Burana opens with with the murdered bodies of the lead soprano’s character’s Nedda (Emily Pulley) and Silvio (Marian Pop, Baritone) lying on the floor. As the choir and orchestra proclaim the woes of fortune have befallen, the audience is introduced to the production’s linking of the two short operas. Without changing any of the libretto of Carmina Burana, and using only stagecraft and body movement, the choreographers (Ashley Roland, James Hampton) have the two lovers shed their worldly clothing, and thus their mortal shells. The set of the worldly life of the two deceased lovers is removed, a moon shaped ball is lowered, and the symbolic Tree Of Life, rises into the air, and becomes suspended to show the halting of time. The judgment of the two souls has begun.
The character Nedda is now dressed in white, along with her doppelganger (and maybe her judgment advocate?) while Silvio is dressed all in black as is his doppelganger. Don’t forget Silvio did break one of the big No-Nos in seducing a married woman, one of the big “Thou Shall Not…” which we should considered as carved in stone, as it were.
Don’t let me confuse anyone! Normally there is no link between the two operas, but BodyVox and the conductor ( John DeMan) and Stage Director (Christopher Mattaliano) has added by stage direction and dance the link by offering the judgment on the souls of Nedda and Silvio.
While time is suspended, and the audience is presented with the seasons of the abruptly ended lives (Spring, summer, early fall) and the phases of moon (Full, Waning, New, Waxing, and Full again) presented by stagecraft and dance. In this background the former lives of Nedda and Silvio are weighed against the mortal sins standards, not in terms of absolutes, but in context with living a life full of life.
The doppelgangers present the action, while the two lovers give voice as soloist. Youthful Lust and Gluttony (roasted swan and drink) were easy to spot. Less obvious to spot was anger and envy. Sloth I am less certain about; I am guessing it was the song in part IV, “The Court of Love” where the woman is debating conceding to her lover’s ardent sexual advances which nature having its way would result in pregnancy and thus the trials and efforts of motherhood. If she remains a virgin, sloth wins out. But that is just a guess on my part. Feel free to add your own insights onto males who dump the full toils of parenthood on to their mates and the judgment of sloth upon their lazy souls.
Carmina Burana ends with the revival of the tribute to the goddess Fortuna, Empress of the World of Fortune, we see Silvio, dressed in black bidding farewell to his lover, Nedda, dressed in white; their doppelgangers bidding farewell also. Silvio is dragged, or pulled, to his punishment, while Nedda is escorted to her reward. As the two principals disappear, the chorus advances to the front of the stage, the tree of life is returned to its upright position, the moon is restored to the sky, and time for the audience is resumed.
The Stage is in the now filled by the choir, the choir’s musical voice fills the auditorium, the orchestra is at full fortissimo, all of which assaults the senses of the audience with sound and vibration, (if I may metaphorically characterize as boxing us about the ears) with the warnings that we too, who witnessed this cautionary tale, should take heed, for thee and thou shall also be judged.
Oh, and BTW, that most insidious of the mortal sins and its three parts: Pride, Hubris, and Vainglory. Just how does one not run afoul of this when one seduces another who is already in a committed relationship? The shadow of this most vile mortal sin by Silvio darkens the heart of the beautiful and presumably previously innocent Nedda, so when the worshipful hunchback and simpleton Tonio (Mark Rucker, baritone) proclaimed his infatuation, Nedda’s response is heartless and cruel. Even if she later confesses and repents in prayer, her sin of pride in her disdain of his innocent proclamation, her merciless and callous rebuke of Tonio, so filled him with rage he informs the husband of Nedda’s infidelity and faithlessness. Thus setting up the dual murder and the finial lines of Pagliacci, “La commedia è finita!” (The play has ended.)
However, this was just an operatic presentation of mythology which was extremely well performed. And what does complex mythology have to do with us? It is just entertainment, isn’t it?