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The Awakening of the Poetic Spirit: Il Postino, the opera

Il Postino, Virginia Opera 2019

Il Postino, Virginia Opera 2019

The opera adaptation of Il Postino by the brilliant Daniel Catán is a beautiful mixture of the novel by Antonio Skármeta and the 1994 film directed by Michael Radford. Like the film, the action is moved from the novel’s Chilean setting towards the end of Neruda’s life in 1969 to the fictitious Italian island of Cala di Sotto (literally “Cove Below”) in 1950 during poet Pablo Neruda’s political exile from Chile. This more innocent and distant representation of post-Mussolini and post-war Italian life replaces Neruda’s true residence in exile, Capri. The aesthetic of this production focuses on the citizens of the island as living in a time before the war, while the Chilean Neruda, in all his success and wealth, portends a new era as he sports new suits and sits on chic furniture. The iconic sound of Mario’s bike bell, the fishermen who make up the residents of the island, and the oceanside setting evoke at once movement, beauty, and the unknown. 

Mario, the postman, is in search of poetry. His only client is the famous Neruda, who he turns to for guidance in finding love with the beautiful Beatrice. She is a fiery bird who does not love easily. The three mysterious women who pepper the scenes are representative of the emotional awakening of female desire. This story is not Mario’s alone. Beatrice has an equal journey, but hers is not inspired directly by Neruda. She beholds Mario in the wake of his poetic transformation. The three women embody the aesthetic of Neruda’s passion for music that is woven into various scenes of the opera, such as tango, and therefore awaken Beatrice to Mario’s newfound confidence and sensitivity to nature, thanks to Neruda’s foreign influence.

The political implications of the island are very clear and familiar, and Cala di Sotto is used as a microcosm of upheaval in mid-century Europe. Like most political disputes, this one is deeply immersed in class structure. Mario and Beatrice come from the lower, working class seeking refuge in the dream of equality as promised by communism. Neruda is of the artist-political activist class who has achieved wealth through his success, while remembering his working class roots. The candidate di Cosimo is a wealthy democratic politician who will do whatever it takes to win an election. Neruda has his own political concerns back home in Chile. Mario and Neruda’s friendship emerges despite political chaos. The two find harmony in metaphor, which serves as an escape. And yet Mario, like the politics that have abandoned him, is abandoned by Neruda. Mario’s breakdown in Act III over Pablo’s lack of communication after his departure comes out of a realization of the class he belongs to: “What did I ever do for him?...He saw that I wasn’t a poet, and yet he treated me like a friend.”

In this production our team has worked toward achieving a sense of flow to at once express the various locations for action and the discovery of poetry. The staircase, a metaphorical wave made up of floor and roof tile finishing off with paper, is triggered with Mario’s human impetus (the bicycle) to move forward in life. Sometimes, like the ocean, it moves unexpectedly on its own as a harbinger of fate. The opera, which highlights very profoundly Neruda’s South American roots, expresses moments of heightened epiphany and beauty. This production embraces those moments as an opportunity for magical realism, as created by the novelist and friend of Neruda’s, Gabriel García Márquez. These moments express “another world,” raising the characters above the everyday. Catán’s portrayal of Neruda’s nostalgia for his homeland—the Spanish language, the fight for political change, Argentine tango—permeate the story you are about to witness. Poetry is found, tango is danced and embodied, and the real Neruda’s inspired presence washes over us like a wave. 

 y cambió bruscamente mi existencia: / and my life changed suddenly:

de mi adhesión al puro movimiento. / as I became part of its pure movement.

 USA, 2019

Armida: the free woman (the opera Armida by Haydn)

Armida is sixteenth century Italian poet Torquato Tasso’s fiery tragic heroine from his epic The Liberaton of Jerusalem, a tale that at face value is about the Crusades. Tasso’s point was not to illuminate the history of the 11thcentury, but rather to write an allegory urging Alfonso d’Este, the duke of Ferrara in Tasso’s time, to take action against the Turkish invasions of what is now northern Italy. Thus, Tasso wrote a story illuminating political concerns and peppering them with themes of fantasy, magic, female power and prowess, and, ultimately, death. His greatest achievement in the piece was the creation of a sympathetic female heroine from “the wrong side” that has provided endless inspiration for dramatists.

There are several operas that take on Armida as a main character. Monteverdi’s opera Armida abbandonata from the early 17thcentury was incomplete or lost. Jean-Baptiste Lully’s 1686 Armideis the first known opera about this fascinating woman. Handel’s 1711 work Rinaldoglorifies her power by providing what I would call one of the most fiery musical entrances ever written for a female only see her transform later into a simple, weeping broken-hearted woman. By contrast, Hadyn’s Armida, written around 70 years later, starts at the peak of the heroine’s love affair with Rinaldo and tracks her emotional downfall into hellish action as caused by his betrayal.

            Armida’s trajectory as tragic heroine is therefore unique in Haydn’s portrayal. Her magic, fueled by the myrtle tree, is central to keeping order. Her greatest power is the ability to drug warriors into a state of love-sickness as she has done with Rinaldo. With this power she can weaken armies, thereby allowing her co-dependent uncle Idreno to overtake them with his own army. She feels trapped by her duty to Idreno, and his plans to send Rinaldo to fight against his own European camp are cause for her alarm. To support Rinaldo’s efforts to ensure the security of her country means relinquishing her power of love over him and accepting his possible death in battle.

            Another fascinating aspect of Hadyn’s telling of the story is Rinaldo’s independence. As the opera progresses the seemingly weak, punch-drunk European warrior becomes autonomous. Despite being “drugged” by Armida’s powers of love, he comes to make his own decisions about his future and is torn between loyalty to his homeland and fidelity to a woman he has come to love in earnest. He transforms from manipulated lover to restored warrior for the “correct” side of the battle.

            Perhaps what draws so many to Armida’s story are the vast amounts of emotional depth that are possible in portraying this “free woman”. She is not necessarily human, certainly not a goddess, has the marks of a Queen, is a pagan magician and seductress, and, we come to discover, holds the power of hell in her hands. She is the anti-ingénue. Yet when it comes to love it is her fallibility that inspires sympathy.

Other characters in the drama help to form the communities that exist on both sides. Ubaldo is Rinaldo’s closest friend who succeeds in bringing the latter back to his sense of self. Their comrade Clotarco falls for the magical Zelmira, but sadly their love affair, although pure, is cut short when Idreno discovers Zelmira’s betrayal. 

            Like so many other pieces from this era of opera, many of the gaps in the drama can only be filled through distinct character and design choices. Our approach to Haydn’s opera combines elements from across various periods in order to establish a timeless and other worldly atmosphere. The clothing is inspired by the Byzantine era coupled with lines from the 1930’s. The human world and the magical world are separated by texture and color, yet Armida is able to disguise herself as human while she is with Rinaldo. An atmosphere of sweeping fire that has destroyed the once-beautiful palace belonging to Armida is palpable. It is a malleable space, manipulated by Armida, which can at once create obstacles, define architecture or manipulate a person’s psyche. The intact structure high above the charred earth only exists because of the power of the myrtle tree: it is the last organic feature of Armida’s world and the key to her power. She guards this treasure carefully, but in the end cannot avoid Rinaldo’s desire to destroy it. She is then faced with a decision as to whether or not she will use her final strokes of power to destroy those who defy her, even her lover. 

Australia, 2016

Old and New Visions of Madama Butterfly

Giacomo Puccini’s iconic work Madama Butterfly has long been a staple of what people think of as “opera.” Most have heard of it, mostly due to the universal story of love lost in translation, female abandonment, and tragic consequences.  

Madama Butterfly, Opera Columbus 2018

Madama Butterfly, Opera Columbus 2018

Butterfly was attractive from the time of its premiere in 1904 because of its exoticism to western audiences. At the time “Japonisme,” the act of dressing up and doing tasks that were “Japanese,” was a fad in Europe after Asian ports opened up for trade late in the 19thcentury: the culture was different and, therefore, exotic. Travel to Asia was much too grueling and expensive if one wanted to experience it for oneself, so pictures, literature, and textiles provided the dream.

Performing Butterfly in the 21st century is influenced by a globalized sensitivity to other cultures and beliefs. Travel is easy. The Internet gives us answers. Television transports us. The imagined Japanese setting as seen by Puccini (who never went there) is a device from 1904 about something that happened “over there.” It is a far cry from our reality. To dress up as if for a pageant and smear on eyeliner to make someone “appear” Asian should most definitely be a practice of the past, and yet some opera companies continue do it in the name of what audiences “want” from the work.  

The production I’m currently directing for Opera Columbus combines the world of 19th century Japan with contemporary couture, views of race/religion, and the effect of clothing/behavior. The costumes are meant to evoke the proper lines and silhouettes of kimono and uniforms through a uniquevisual interpretation, connecting ageless emotion with a contemporary audience. There was no attention paid to race or ethnicity when rounding up the best singers possible for this particular production.

There is every reason to continue to produce Madama Butterfly, but keeping it in its early 20th century box does not gives it proper reverence. We owe it our fullest and most careful attention so that it may continue to ring across changing times in all of its beauty and sadness.

USA, 2018

Expansion and growth

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There comes a moment in life that begs for clarity. The life of a freelancer has its challenges and its joys. After doing it for over a decade I’ve asked myself questions about my next chapters. The answer is found in continuing to learn, to move forward in an area that I crave to explore. I worked behind a camera for six weeks and discovered new parts of myself I didn’t even know existed. It was liberating and also forced me to stay present, mindful and open for all of those days. Now I am back in the opera rehearsal room with new purpose and energy, craving to unveil more about myself and what my work can become. It’s exciting and inspiring.