The gleaming white building – a giant beached whale of a building, perched on a glittering lake shore, pointing eastward across sunlit blue water, basking on a crystal clear day – unexpectedly moved. It slowly beat its wings.
No, I’m not on the Canadian tokes. I’ve been to Milwaukee, on the shores of Lake Michigan, watching the ridiculously over the top Quadracci Pavilion at the Art Museum, designed by Spanish architect, Santiago Calatrava, flap its stuff. It actually has wings.
I think he WAS on the tokes when he sent in his competition entry, late, in 1994. My guess is he was amazed he won.
Wind speed permitting (up to 23mph), the wing-thing is a thrice daily ritual. At 10:00 am a warning sounds and the Burke Brise Soleil (sunshade) – wingspan 217 feet, same as a 747 – slowly opens. For kicks, the wings beat at noon, then close at evensong. It is Milwaukee’s religious ritual.
Equally ingenious, but less contrived, was Florentine Opera’s production of Monteverdi’s “L’incoronazione di Poppea” playing at the downtown Wilson Theatre, Vogel Hall. That was why I was in town, staying at the unspoiled, gilded-age Pfister Hotel; when built in 1893 the most expensive and technologically advanced hotel in the world. It boasts frescos in the lobby. Milwaukee isn’t all frothy beer.
Poppea is a difficult work to stage. First off, who wrote it? Monteverdi wrote some of it. Two different versions exist. The scores are overwritten with additions by God knows who. The consensus now is that Monteverdi didn’t even write the signature closing duet, “Pur ti miro, Pur ti godo”.
Many productions include orchestral additions, but Florentine decided to hold as much as possible to what passes for the original. Good strategy.
Florentine Opera is a small company, budget $3m a year, with three productions annually. Much of their work – and the reason for their substantial grant funding – is educational, but that doesn’t stop them “doing the difficult”, like Poppea.
They punch above their weight. The cast they put together was stellar; a tribute to the depth of talent that is to be found beyond the main opera centres in the USA.
Emperor Nerone was played by Lebanese-American tenor, and 2019 Grammy winner, Karim Sulayman. He does haughty and aloofness well. And the ambivalent homosexual scenes with the soldier, Lucano, were subtly played. His voice was unwavering and his stage presence engaging throughout.
Amanda Crider, American mezzo, played Poppea. Time to fess up. Ms. Crider is a friend and I’ve seen her perform a number of challenging roles; the mentally tortured Alma in Keeril Makin’s “Persona”, based on Ingmar Bergman’s iconic 1967 film; Doreen and a Sphinx in Marc-Anthony Turnage’s “Greek,” a dystopian 80s British take on the Oedipus story; and, more conventionally, in an unforgettable Messiah in New York with Cleveland’s Apollo’s Fire baroque ensemble. I particularly wanted to hear her perform the last duet in Poppea.
Florida based Ms. Crider gets about a bit in the USA and has no fear of challenging roles. Hers is a rich, flowing mezzo voice and she takes much trouble to bring it into character. Voicing roles ranging from Alma, through cockney Doreen to Poppea has been no mean feat.
She can act too. At the moment Nerone reveals he intends to make her Empress, not only his wife, Poppea seemed to spontaneously grow two inches in height and her eyes sparkled triumphant ambition – unseen by Nerone, confided only to the audience. Sharp body language.
Katherine Pracht, also a mezzo, played Ottavia, Nerone’s hard done by spouse and Virtu, the goddess Virtue, who, of course, loses out to Amore. She displayed compelling dignity in spite of all …… er, reversals! Mind you, being exiled from Nerone’s court might well be seen as a plus.
She has a lustrous voice, has performed many operatic roles and is widening her repertoire, having debuted at the Kennedy Center (2016-17) in Philip Glass’ Symphony No5.
Matthew Treviño, a Texan Bass, played Seneca, the philosopher who counsels Nerone to stick with Ottavia, pisses him off and is instructed to top himself for his pains.
Mr Treviño played him as a horn-rimmed, bookish, Robert Mueller sort of guy, whose investigation of the Nerone and Poppea conspiracy went so badly wrong that he slit his wrists on request at the end of Act 1.
Hot news! Nerone is unlikely to be impeached for marrying Poppea anytime soon. His opponents now intend to focus on his nefarious plans to undermine Roman healthcare instead.
This Florentine production was spare, but exceptionally elegant – in the style of, well, the baroque opera that Poppea is meant to be. Designed to pop up in a Venetian square, an intimate theatre, a salon, or downtown Milwaukee, the clever use of props – a curtain, a sunken bath (for Seneca’s suicide) and a chair or two – meant that contact between cast and audience was intense throughout.
Melissa Benson, local costume designer and principal of the wonderfully titled “Ranting Centaur Studios”, caught the sumptuous Baroque style, but added her occasional modern flourish – lavishly sculpted sleeves for Poppea, sharply tailored jacket for Nerone and a well-cut grey coat for Seneca – making for an almost dateless presentation.
On a tight budget it was clearly the right decision to splurge on the costumes – and just spray the chairs silver. But, why was Seneca’s shirt left hanging out? Maybe tortured Mid West intellectuals have shirts hanging out.
How to play L’incoronazione di Poppea? This is an opera where the bad guys win. Not a good message for “metoo” modern times. Emperor Nerone ditches his wife Ottavia, forces her into exile, marries Poppea, crowns her empress and the pair celebrate in that final aria. Then, there’s Seneca’s suicide.
Should it be entirely serious? The last live production I saw was at Glyndebourne 2010, deadly serious, blood spattered, corpse strewn and in modern dress. It was all a bit relentless.
A notable achievement of this Florentine production was the bold decision to leaven the action with humour. Good precedents. Shakespeare did it; the gravedigger scene in Hamlet. Samuel Johnson hated the device: “Mixing comick and tragick scenes is a practice contrary to the rules of criticism”. Pompous oaf. Could never use one word where a dictionary would do. Audiences loved it.
For gravediggers in Hamlet read Poppea’s nurse, Arnalta, played by high tenor, Marc Molomot. Mr. Molomot is not only blessed with a pure high tenor voice. He is a consummate comic. Arnalta is used as a foil to Poppea and harbours her own unrealistic ambitions to be important, elevated to the role of Empress’ nurse. Bragging rights in the forum.
Arnalta’s aspirations to status are, of course, risible and the device throws her mistress’ “Pushy Poppea,” plans into relief. Every gesture of Mr. Melmott’s, whether central to the action or on the periphery, was hilarious. He provoked appreciative applause on one exit.
Chatting with him briefly at the cast party he seemed diffident, amazed he had been such a successful “turn”. His naturally lugubrious and mobile expression teamed with his fantastic voice will take him far.
In the final scene the wronged characters appear in the background onstage, including Seneca’s ghost, a clever touch, which prompts the notion that Nerone’s and Poppea’s apparent triumph may be founded on feet of clay.
The band was the Florentine Opera Baroque Ensemble, ably directed from the harpsichord by Jory Vinikour, grounded in twenty years experience of continuo playing, and conducting since 2016.
The tight knit ensemble – harpsichord, two violins, a viola, a cello and unusually featuring two theorbos (long necked lutes) – provided elegant and sonorous accompaniment; much better than often over-orchestrated presentations, which I don’t think don’t suit Monteverdi at all.
I also spoke with éminence grise, Charles Grosz, of local Early Music Now and a principal bassist, afterwards. He was cock-a-hoop, dishing out cast party drinks vouchers like confetti. There was some risk in plumping for authenticity, but it truly paid off, the sound blending perfectly with the voices, yet still filling the compact, 470 seat Wilson auditorium.
Florentine Opera are to be congratulated for pulling together such a fine production. At the helm is new General Director, Maggey Oplinger. As with all small opera companies, her challenge is to balance local relevance with aspiration; reaching out for a wider audience while resisting the temptation to dumb down. More power to her elbow. This was a production her company can be proud of. It is a sound foundation upon which to build an audience far beyond Milwaukee.
Ok, ok, it was a long trek west for a duet; but, as they used to say in old Michelin Guides, “Worth a special journey”. In the finale Ms. Crider and Mr. Sulayman stood front stage, looked out and held the audience spellbound with that haunting, interlocked, rising and falling duet.
I recall only rare operatic occasions when the breathless silence of an audience was so palpable it became entwined with the stage action. This was one such. Totally involving.
(Image via Florentine Opera)