Two of this summer’s four operas explore themes of love that can transform clowns into killers, gods into clowns, virgin goddesses into strumpets, beauties into bears, and nymphs into starry constellations. Love may be suppressed or banished, but it inevitably returns with a vengeance, wreaking havoc.
Francesco Cavalli’s La Calisto (1651) delves into various aspects of love – including a depiction of lesbian love – and illustrates how even the gods are not immune to its follies and humiliations. In Giovanni Faustini’s loose adaptation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, the nymph Calisto is a devotee of the chaste moon goddess Diana and has renounced the company of men. Calisto catches the eye of the god Jupiter (Giove), who, along with his companion Mercury, attempts to seduce her. Calisto dismisses the god’s advances. Ever determined, Jove disguises himself as Diana and entices Calisto to a secluded grove, where he/she showers her with kisses and caresses, and something that Calisto finds indescribably sweet. Whatever it was, Calisto is eager for more, transitioning from virgin to fallen woman in an instant. Later, when the nymph approaches the real Diana with her newfound desires, Diana is horrified and banishes her. Calisto is left confused and heartbroken by Diana’s apparent change of heart.
Meanwhile, the chaste Diana has her own forbidden love – she reciprocates the affection of the shepherd Endymion and leads him to a mountain top for a romantic encounter under the moonlight. Complications arise as Diana’s former lover, the demi-god Pan, and Jupiter’s wife, the jealous Juno, both become aware of their former partners’ extramarital romantic activities. Calisto is transformed into a bear by the vengeful Juno. Eventually, Diana, caught with her mortal lover and mindful of preserving her pure image, declares that their love must continue chastely – kisses only. Calisto is ultimately freed from her bear form and ascends to the heavens as a starry constellation.
Cavalli’s music encompasses a broad spectrum of styles and modes, ranging from dance-like sections for the satyrs and sylvans, to lyrical love odes sung by Endymion, and mocking serenatas. The score of La Calisto is sparse, consisting of two staves – one for the vocal line and the other indicating chords from which an instrumental accompaniment would be improvised. This requires orchestration to make it performable. Robert Ainsley, the artistic and general director of the Glimmerglass Festival, who is also a musicologist and conductor, created a performing edition that incorporated both Renaissance and modern instruments, with a larger ensemble than the original Venetian production. This edition was both stylish and well-balanced, and Ainsley conducted it with great energy and flair. He also made sensible cuts to the score, reducing the performance time to a little over two and a half hours from the original four hours.
Director Mo Zhou achieved a thoughtful balance of seriousness and humour, suggesting that Calisto is trying to make the best of her situation upon discovering that Jove was her true seducer. Beneath her rueful submission lies a sense of sadness and regret. Her ascension to the heavens as a constellation is portrayed as a death by transfiguration. The staging was fluid and elegant, enhanced by the colourful Fauvist-style sets designed by Charlie Corcoran and the evocative lighting by Amith Chandrashaker. The costumes, created by Carlos Soto, were cleverly stylized and highlighted the characters effectively. Eric Sean Fogel’s choreography was seamlessly integrated into the singers’ movements.
The cast primarily featured young singers. Soprano Emilie Kealani, in the title role, sounded appropriately youthful, though occasionally her voice was a bit shallow and brittle. However, this immaturity lent a naïve charm to her performance. The standout was mezzo-contralto Taylor Raven, who portrayed Diana/Jove-as-Diana with an imposing stage presence and a rich mezzo voice that blended coolness with warmth, capturing the duality of the fallible goddess. Another highlight was the young Filipino countertenor Kyle Sanchez Tingzon, whose elegiac and plaintive timbre as Endymion was both captivating and moving. As Juno, mezzo-soprano Eve Gigliotti brought a commanding presence, handling the demanding high tessitura with strength.
Craig Irvin portrayed Jove with a strutting, macho attitude, his bass-baritone voice adding to his imposing presence, while Schyler Vargas was adept as his shifty sidekick, Mercury. In comic roles, Winona Martin stood out as Linfea, a follower of Diana who decides to abandon chastity, and was pursued by Amanda Sheriff, who was sassy and funny as a Young Satyr. Sanchez Tingzon, Kealani, Martin, and Sheriff are all members of Glimmerglass’ Young Artist Program.
Ruggero Leoncavallo’s I Pagliacci was performed as a standalone piece, with an intermission following “Vesti la giubba.” Brenna Corner’s production is set in the Depression era around 1930, similar to a current Met production, and is framed as a flashback. A lone middle-aged man enters what appears to be a warehouse (designed by James Rotondo) filled with wooden trailers and platforms belonging to a circus or traveling variety act. After discovering a rumpled clown costume in a trunk, ghosts from the past emerge from the shadows, and the opening strains of the famous Prologo aria, “Si può? Si può?” are heard, revealing that the mystery man is Tonio. The lighting shifts, the stage fills with peasants and villagers (who enter singing from the aisles), and the main action of the opera begins. The rest of the staging is fairly traditional, though a gun replaces the whip and knife typically used by Nedda and Canio. The commedia dell’arte scenes were cleverly staged with playful use of props and executed with expertise.
The cast delivered strong performances. Baritone Troy Cook, formerly known for his “barihunk” status, was a resonant Tonio, with excellent legato phrasing and effective delivery, making the most of the prologue and leaving a strong impression throughout the opera. Amber M. Monroe, as Nedda, was a standout – her voice is a lush, juicy spinto soprano with a beautiful sheen and the ability to float through the lyric passages (notably in the love duet), while also possessing ample power for the more dramatic confrontations in the second act. A winner of the George and Nora London Foundation Competition, Monroe is a young talent to watch, with a voice that is both cohesive and used with great intelligence and musicianship. Baritone Jonathan Patton, a fixture in the Washington DC opera scene known for his work in contemporary music, portrayed Silvio as a successful businessman in a white three-piece suit and straw hat. His upper register was beautiful and his tone firm, though it felt like he could have benefitted from some lessons in Italianate phrasing, especially when compared to his colleague Troy Cook. While Monroe was seductive in the love duet, Patton’s responses seemed somewhat more straightforward.
As Canio, tenor Robert Stahley displayed a significant vocal instrument, though his technique remains incomplete. He has a large, resonant voice with a broad middle register, but struggles with connecting this middle register to the upper range. This issue, often referred to as passaggio problems, was evident as the top notes were present but difficult to reach without breaking the line or resorting to force. In the opening aria, “Un grande spettacolo,” Stahley unwisely attempted the unwritten optional high B-natural on “A ventitré ore!” which resulted in a strained, broken note. Other high notes in this role, which isn’t particularly demanding in that regard, also sounded strained and forced. Despite these challenges, the size and quality of his voice were apparent, and his portrayal of Canio was compelling, capturing the character’s volatile temper beneath a seemingly genial exterior. The music direction by Joseph Colaneri, a seasoned hand at this kind of score, ensured that the performance came together beautifully.
Having not attended the Glimmerglass Festival for about a decade, I was heartened by the high caliber of all four productions this summer. The orchestra played well, the design, direction, and lighting of the productions were excellent, and the singing was, for the most part, very fine. La Calisto would not have been out of place at a small international festival, and Pagliacci was provocative, theatrical, and musically rewarding. The other productions included The Pirates of Penzance, which was a breezy delight, and Kevin Puts’s Elizabeth Cree, which had a wonderful production and strong performances, though the story itself felt rather unconvincing and fell apart by the end.
Next summer, for Glimmerglass’ 50th anniversary season, the lineup includes Tosca, Sondheim’s Sunday in the Park with George, The Rake’s Progress, The House on Mango Street (a world premiere), and another world premiere: The Odyssey, with music by Ben Moore.
Photos: Sophia Negron
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