Glimmerglass Festival, 2016, Day 3: Enemy aliens

Rev. Parris discovers Tituba and the girls
Photo: Karli Cadel

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Our three days at the Glimmerglass Festival concluded on July 31, 2016, with an exemplary production of the Pulitzer Prize-winning 1961 operatic version of Arthur Miller's The Crucible.  I reviewed this for Classical Voice North America, but due to space constraints on their web site, I was obliged to edit my original review.  Here is the full-length version.

In a 1989 New York Times article reflecting on his 1953 play The Crucible, Arthur Miller wrote, "Political movements are always trying to position themselves against the unknown-vote for me and you're safe." The relevance to contemporary politics could hardly be more obvious.

Rev. Hale leads the villagers in a hymn
Photo: Karli Cadel

In both the play and the opera, fear stalks the streets of Salem Village. Many of the villagers are afraid of the land grab schemes of the wealthy Thomas Putnam, while his wife Ann is afraid that her numerous miscarriages are the work of supernatural forces. Reverend Parris, meanwhile, fears for the health of this daughter Betty, who lies in bed with a mysterious illness.

The tensions and resentments in the village come to a head when Parris discovers his niece Abigail Williams and other village girls dancing in the woods with the Barbadian slave Tituba. Pressured by the witchcraft expert Reverend Hale and the girls, Tituba confesses to witchcraft. As the villagers pray over Betty, it appears that Tituba's confession and their hymns have worked and Hale declares Satan's hold broken.

John Proctor pleads with Elizabeth
Photo: Karli Cadel

But Abigail and the other girls have tasted power for the first time in their repressed lives, and soon they're staging regular demonstrations of "possession," accusing others in the village of supernatural persecution. A special court is convened to hear the accusations, and eventually Danforth, the Deputy Governor, is brought in to run the hearings, in which the increasingly wild accusations of the girls are presumed to be true and the accused are presumed guilty. Worse yet, as farmer Giles Corey discovers, accusing the girls of fraud is considered an offense all by itself. Before long, dozens of citizens are in prison, awaiting execution and, for those who refuse to confess and name others involved in the fictitious conspiracy, torture.

Or, as we now call it, enhanced interrogation.

Judge Danforth hears Mary Warren's testimony
Photo: Carli Kadel

The list of accused includes Elizabeth Proctor whose husband, John, had a clandestine affair with Abigail. Abigail thinks getting Elizabeth executed will bring John back to her, but he's determined to repair his marriage. Unable to convince Abigail to recant her accusation, he confesses to the affair in court to expose Abigail's fakery, only to find it discounted and accused of witchcraft himself.

In the end the case against Elizabeth collapses when Abigail steals money from Parris and runs away while the village begins to openly rebel against Danforth's court. Proctor is offered a last chance to avoid the gallows if he signs a confession but he refuses to blacken his name, inflict shame on his sons, and give Danforth the ammunition he needs to justify his reign of terror. As he is led to the gallows, Hale pleads with Elizabeth to get him to sign, but she refuses. “He has found his name and his goodness now", she says. "God forbid I take it form him.”

Abigail and the girls are "posessed"
Photo: Karli Cadel

The libretto by Bernard Stambler considerably shortens and streamlines Miller's play, which was inspired in part by the modern-day witch hunts of the late Senator McCarthy, but leaves intact the searing indictment of the power of mob mentality and the moral corruption of politicians who feed on it. Today the mob is on the Internet and social media, but the intellectually disreputable process is the same.

When The Crucible had its premiere at New York City Opera in 1961, New York Times critic Harold Schonberg essentially praised the Robert Ward score with faint damns, calling it "noncommittal music" that "did little to intensify the characters on state, the moods they were feeling, or the situations in which they found themselves."

Proctor is accused by Danforth
Photo: Karli Cadel

Time has not judged his judgment well. While it's certainly true that nobody is likely to leave a production of The Crucible whistling the tunes, it's hard to square Mr. Schonberg's criticisms with what I heard here. This is a score of tremendous narrative power, high drama, and often-unexpected beauty. A scene cut from the original play but restored here, in which Proctor pleads with Abigail to forget him and spare Elizabeth's life, is wonderfully lyrical, calling to mind Gershwin's "Bess, You is My Woman Now", while the trial scenes have real visceral impact.

It may be true that Mr. Ward, who died just a few years ago, did not have the distinctive harmonic or melodic style of (say) Copland or Bernstein, but if this score is any indication, he had a sure sense of what works on stage. He is quoted as saying that if you can't play it or sing it, you shouldn't write it. He clearly followed his own advice here.

Marry Warren warns Elizabeth
Photo: Karli Cadel

The cast for this production is an impressive one, with powerful, accurate voices and credible acting skills. Leading the pack is baritone Brian Mulligan as John Proctor, with a big voice and dramatic stage presence. This is a key role, requiring plenty of vocal stamina along with the ability to make the character's crisis of conscience believe able. Mr. Mulligan has both. The women's roles are critical in The Crucible and director Francesca Zambello has assembled an impressive ensemble to fill them. Mezzo Jamie Barton, whose warm voice distinguished her Jane Seymour in Chicago Lyric's Anna Bolena back in 2014, racks up another success as the conflicted Elizabeth Proctor. Soprano Ariana Wehr is a credibly conniving Abigail, mezzo Zoie Reams commands attention as Tituba, and soprano Maren Weinberger is a compelling Mary Warren, who tries to tries to expose the fraud of Abigail and the other girls, only to succumb to peer pressure in the end. All three singers are part of the company's Young Artists program, which gives you some idea of how strong it must be.

Abigail pleads with Proctor to flee with her
Photo: Karli Cadel

Members of the Young Artists program turn in some very mature performances of the male roles as well. That includes, but is by no means limited to, baritone Michael Miller as the greedy Thomas Putnam; tenor Chaz'men Williams-Ali as Giles Corey, whose attempt to expose the girls' fakery results in his own death; and tenor Frederick Ballentine as Rev. Parris. Among the older men, bass-baritone David Pittsinger stands out as Rev. Hale, whose regret is too little and too late, as does tenor Jay Hunter Morris (an Artist in Residence this year) as the arrogant Danforth, whose declaration that he would "draw and quarter ten thousand men" to preserve order could have come from the current presidential campaign.

All the performances in this large cast are very strong, in fact. You can find a complete list at the production web page. In a discussion before the opera, Ms. Zambello noted that she had intentionally used "color blind" casting to create an ensemble that would look like America today in all its diversity. It's a valid artistic decision, but I'm not sure that works with a piece so firmly rooted in the 1690s. That's a minor point, though. Her direction is otherwise as clear and theatrically on target as usual.

Canadian conductor Nicole Paiement leads the wonderfully polished orchestra in a sympathetic and robust reading of the score. Glimmerglass's purpose-built theater has a good-sized orchestra pit and excellent acoustics, allowing every note of the music to come through clearly.

The Glimmerglass Festival production of The Crucible runs through August 27 in rotating repertory with four other shows. For more information, visit the company web site. At a time when the forces of fear and scapegoating are once again abroad in the land, this is surely a "must see."

Why is "Porgy and Bess" a classic? Lyric Opera of Chicago has the answer.

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If your only exposure to George Gershwin and DuBose Heyward's 1935 opera "Porgy and Bess" has been the tour of the cut down "Broadway" version that played the Muny this past summer or even the interesting but flawed Union Avenue Opera/Black Rep co-production from 2007, you'd probably be justified in wondering why this is considered a great American opera. The current Lyric Opera of Chicago revival of its 2008 production—which runs through December 20—demonstrates why.

With masterful stage direction by Francesca Zambello (based on her original staging at Washington National Opera) and insightful musical direction by former St. Louis Symphony resident conductor Ward Stare, this is the "Porgy and Bess" that will remind you what all the fuss is about. This was especially apparent for me in the first act (consisting of Gershwin’s Act I and first two scenes of Act II), which has some of the most emotionally powerful moments in the opera. “Bess, You Is My Woman Now” was particularly poignant.

The cast is solid, with great (if sometimes under-powered) singing and utterly convincing acting. Baritone Eric Owens leads the way as a fully realized and credible Porgy. As originally written, the character can some across as a bit one-dimensional and simple, but there was none of that here. The role sometimes goes low for a baritone, but Mr. Owens still has plenty of power in the bottom of his range.

Soprano Adina Aaron’s Bess also avoids cliché, emphasizing instead the character’s vulnerability and the terrible threat posed by her addiction to Sportin’ Life’s “happy dust.” There’s not a lot a sexual chemistry between the two, but I’m not sure that’s a bad thing, as it suggests there may be a purity to her relationship with Porgy that is impossible with the brutish Crown.

Speaking of whom, baritone Eric Greene makes Crown the appalling force of nature he should be. This is a character who is all Freudian “id”—unchecked desire with no sense of control. We got all that from Mr. Greene and a powerful voice as well.

Tenor Jermaine Smith has almost made a career out of the role of the amoral drug dealer Sportin’ Life. He played the role in Lyric Opera’s 2008 production as well as in the Union Avenue production I mentioned earlier. Reviewing him back then, I praised his clear, flexible voice and dance moves that remind me that the role was, from the beginning, a kind of homage to the vaudeville stage. It’s still true.

There are many other outstanding performances here, such as soprano Karen Slack’s Serena (her “My Man’s Gone Now” was heard-rending), soprano Hlengiwe Mkhwanazi as the doomed Clara, and contralto Gwendolyn Brown’s take-no-prisoners Maria. Baritone Norman Garrett also makes a strong impression as the equally doomed Jake. In fact, there’s really not a single performance here that isn’t at least good, and many clearly qualify as great.

The chorus figures prominently in “Porgy and Bess,” but Chorus Master Michael Black’s singers are more than up to the challenge. Gershwin makes it an important character in its own right, often commenting on and participating in the action. Many scenes feature virtuoso writing for chorus members, a classic example being the Act II "storm" sequence in which six completely independent vocal lines slowly merge with the chorus to produce the spiritual "Oh, de Lawd shake the Heavens". It’s a powerful moment, powerfully delivered.

Peter J. Davison’s unit set makes the scene changes quick and fluid. Combined with Mark McCullough’s atmospheric lighting, it makes Catfish Row look rather like a decaying and abandoned prison, all rusted sheet metal and institutional ugliness, but I think that neatly makes the point that the residents are effectively imprisoned by their poverty and by the brutality of the racist power structure represented so effectively by the police and other representatives of law enforcement in Heyward’s libretto. In Gershwin’s “Porgy and Bess,” the moment a white character opens his mouth, the music stops dead. You couldn’t ask for a more stark illustration of the racial divide.

Movement and choreography are important to “Porgy and Bess” a well. Assistant director and choreographer Denni Sayers makes the dance numbers seem to emerge naturally from the rest of the stage movement, making it an integral part of the characters. In both musical theatre and opera, dance numbers can sometimes feel like (and, indeed, are often intended to be) separate set pieces, divorced from the action. Not so here.

Praise is also due to costume designer Paul Tazewell. His earthy palette nicely matches that of Mr. Davison and helps give the show a unified look.

Ward Stare conducts the orchestra with assurance and if his tempi are sometimes a bit brisk, they’re clearly not a problem for either his musicians or his singers. Mr. Stare, as I noted some years ago, is clearly a man whose star is on the ascendant. This show will certainly be another feather in his cap.

I won’t say this is a perfect “Porgy and Bess,” but it’s so close that it probably doesn’t matter. This is a difficult piece to pull off at all and opportunities to see it done this well can be rare. It continues through December 20th in the company's opulent space in the Chicago Loop and is well worth a trip to the Windy City.

Final note: I’m not a hotel critic, but if you do make the trip up here, seriously consider the place where we stayed, the Kimpton Allegro. It’s a cool little boutique hotel and only three blocks from the opera house. The adjoining 312 Chicago restaurant is worthwhile as well.