playwright

Post Script

Thoughts on theater from page to stage.

Gorgeous Music Brings "L'Orfeo" to Life

Photo by Mark Frohna.

Three years ago Milwaukee Opera Theatre and the early music vocal ensemble Aperi Animam collaborated on a stunning evening of traditional and new work at Calvary Presbyterian Church called Utterance. This weekend the two organizations joined forces again in the storied downtown church for a visually modern, musically baroque production of Claudio Monteverdi’s opera L’Orfeo. Penned in 1607 for a court performance for the annual Mantua Carnival, it is a profoundly beautiful piece and one of the earliest operas that is still regularly produced. Per MOT’s methodology, this production was an interesting synthesis of performance styles and storytelling, making a centuries-old opera immediately intriguing to a modern audience. An English translation of the lyrics by Danny Brylow and Joseph Krohlow, paired with projected lyrics, also opened the story up to be instantly accessible. L’Orfeo was supported by exceptional musicianship, from complicated ensemble vocals, to instruments so old and obscure that they looked like a Renaissance museum tableau. 

 

Inside the red brick church adorned with traditional stained glass windows, carved buttresses of dark wood, and a faint labyrinth painted on the floor, any performance feels sacred. And when the members of Aperi Animam entered from the back of the space to form a circle in the transcept, the procession felt like the beginning of a holy rite. 

 

As they were in Utterance, the early music choir was absolutely transcendent when they were singing together – stepping through tight harmonies as one united instrument, a ring of beautifully balanced sound that reverberates joyfully in the space that was designed to glorify choral sounds. The ensemble was accompanied by a fantastic group of musicians playing the recorder, harpsichord, violin, and some truly arcane instruments, including early versions of the trombone, viola, and a comically oversized lute called the theorbo. 

 

As impressive as the ensemble was together, they were equally thrilling in smaller ensembles and solo parts. The call to the wedding of Orfeo and Euridice was jubilant. As they sang “Down from the mountains! Up from the fountains!” the sopranos tumbled over the lines like water bubbling over rocks in a stream. Jack Rutter as Caronte, the guard to the underworld, filled the space effortlessly with his warm, smooth bass and somewhat cheeky translated lines. As the stern Pluto, David Guzman’s low bass was filled with foreboding, while Austin Bare infused his bright tenor with emotion as he narrates much of the action in the role of the high priest. Elizabeth Blood and Jennifer Jakubowski also shined in smaller parts, their mezzo-soprano voices floating above the action like gorgeous petals.

 

Photo by Mark Frohna.

But most of the piece belongs to Jackie Willis as Orfeo, the young bridegroom whose new wife Euridice is bitten by a snake as she gathers flowers on her wedding day and dies, descending to the underworld. Determined to bring Euridice back to the land of the living, Orfeo begins his quest, aided by his lyre, to rescue her from death so that they may be together. 

 

As a vocalist, Willis navigated the often challenging score admirably with her breathy soprano. Her concentration and control were easy to read on her face. But she sang about unimaginable love and loss as if she was possessed by the story rather than engaged with it. For much of the performance she stood still and stared blankly, as if in a trance; perhaps an unwilling pawn of the gods. 

 

Photo by Mark Frohna.

Similarly, the production walks a fine line between drama and concert. The chorus is costumed by Demian Glas, but the uniform of gold embellished black tops, cuffed light jeans, and bare feet is oddly unrelated to the opera’s story or themes. Keys, baubles, and gold chains decorate black blazers, trench coats, blouses, gloves, and tees, but many of these pieces seem haphazardly bedazzled. There is also an attempt at choreography, but stiff arm movements and occasional dance steps are so tentative and passionless that they feel like an afterthought. The passing of a candle flame and a cup of water around the circle also looked tangentially related to a church service, but not fully connected with the drama. Serviceable lighting design by Encore Theatrical Lighting warmed the space as the sun went down, which had a lovely effect, but overall it was utilitarian. These elements didn’t detract from the gorgeous music created, but they didn’t add much either. 

 

After taking in the performance, the bigger question that lingered was about our communal fascination with the ancient story of Orpheus and Eurydice. In addition to this performance, the Madison Opera performed Orpheus in the Underworld by Jacques Offenbach earlier this spring. The award-winning musical Hadestown, which draws on the same mythology, just toured to Chicago, and Sarah Ruhl’s Eurydice captivated audiences at American Players Theatre several seasons ago. What brings us back to the many permutations of this myth? Is it the tragic story of lovers parted at the beginning of their lives together? Is it Orpheus’s spectacular failure in his moment of doubt? Is the underlying message simply about following directions? Bad things happening to good people? The importance of having faith? Or are we, like Orpheus and Eurydice, doomed from the start as playthings of the gods? Will we always be punished for trying to cheat death, or circumventing the system? Or is it really about persevering against terrible odds because love is the most noble cause of all?

 

Each retelling takes liberties to focus on different aspects of the story. In Monetverdi’s version there is an alternate happy ending – a deus ex machina that sends the lovers to heaven together after Orfeo fails to rescue Euridice. And for MOT and Aperi Animam’s muscially lush performance, that feels right – the gods choose joy instead of despair.

Gwen Rice