The Harlequin and The Crow: A Clash of Classes

Il Campanello & Gianni Schicchi – New Moon Opera

There
is a bird who by his coat, And by the hoarseness of his note, Might be supposed
a crow.  – William Cowper

New Moon Opera sewed up four weekends in a row of
storefront opera in Chicago using the same thread with which Giacomo Puccini
closed Il trittico, his famous trio
of one-act operas written to be performed as a set over a single evening. Gianni Schicchi, the unassailable comic
masterpiece pulled from Dante’s Inferno,
concerns a family hovering at the bedside of the eldest, richest family member,
Buoso Donati, waiting breathlessly to discover the disbursement of his last will
and testament like scavengers waiting for a carrion repast. Their behavior
turns into that of a thwarted flock of crows when they learn upon Buoso’s last exhalation
that he has left all his money to a monastery. Rinuccio, the youngest adult family
member, recommends the family call in the notorious schemer Gianni Schicchi and
ask him to help them find a way to alter their financial fate. Dante, using a
mostly-true story, ushers in Schicchi along with his daughter Lauretta, with
whom Rinuccio is in love, but who his family will not allow to him to marry as
she and her father are considered societally inferior. Through improvised
costuming and sleight-of-voice, Schicchi finds a way to rob the monks and give
to the family flock while saving the best assets for his daughter and her fiancé
who, now that he is rich, cannot be refused his choice. In director Jennifer
Cox’s production, black feathers lay everywhere at the final curtain, tread
upon by the commedia dell’arte Harlequinesque archetype of Schicchi
himself.

But first, Cox and New Moon treated us to the circling of another comic flock of marauders, uncharacteristically following a stallion-crow determined to conquer his prey, accessing the wit and cunning not always attributed to this calculating species. Gaetano Donizetti’s melodramma giacoso, Il campanello recounts the tale of an aging apothecary who takes a young bride, only to have her former love interest arrive at the wedding banquet, intent upon preventing the culmination of the wedding night. With various costuming and vocal disguisings, the former lover keeps the doctor up all night; when the latter leaves on imperative business the next morning, he departs un-warmed by the marriage bed. The leading crow and his flock remind the beleaguered bridegroom that the night he has passed is indicative of the way his future has been (re-)arranged. Here the Harlequin is the crow, and the wedding feast stands before him, readily assailable, as the lights go down.

Il
campanello’s Madame Rosa, the bride’s mother, was
sung by mezzo-soprano Jori Jennings, one of the favorite alto artists of the
storefront scene. Jennings sang the role with her usual generous warmth and an
overt sensuality that gave depth and interest to what could have been a one-note
character. In the leading soprano role of Serafina, Jessie Lyons, a young
Chicago artist stirring interest on a playing field where sopranos are
plentiful, used her plaintive instrument and expressive countenance to present
the portrait of a woman with a strong will unbefitting of the time period. Such
is the ethos of Chicago’s storefront opera scene that Lyons was heard in the
same auditorium as Serafina, and in scenes from grand operas as both Verdi’s
Violetta, and Bizet’s Michaela within a two-week period. Last Spring she was
heard in that room as Fiordiligi in Mozart’s Così fan tutte. Arguably a more fulfilling training ground for
young artists than the YAPs (Young Artist Programs) offered by larger opera
companies, where aspiring singers cover leading roles while singing very small
parts or as chorus members, Lyon’s trajectory proves how particular and
valuable these storefront offerings can be.

The spoils of this one-act must go to the two commedia-clowns of the piece, the
apothecary Annibale Pistacchio (presented as the character Pantaloon) of
baritone Dorian McCall and the Harlequin-cloaked Brandon Sokol as the
ex-boyfriend, Enrico. These two baritones constantly vied for the audience’s nearly-unwilling
affection, painting their deeply flawed characters in strokes as broad as those
of Laurel and Hardy. Their physical and vocal pyrotechnics were displayed so
prodigiously that laughter had to be choked back at times in order to enjoy
their multi-octave voices. Both McCall and Sokol have sprung upon the
storefront scene recently, and their talents have been rewarded with so many
projects of differing styles just this season that both singers likely feel ready
for a summer at the beach. Sokol’s defiant Enrico is far removed both
physically and vocally from The Muse that he sang for Thompson Street Opera
earlier this season in their highly-lauded production of When Adonis Calls, a true feat for a young performer creating in
intimate spaces.

The work in Gianni
Schicchi was every bit as worthy of accolades, with some of the city’s
budding artists tearing into the opportunity to study and portray roles they
may well be offered in larger houses when their youthful instruments have
reached the majority that will no doubt give them that scope. As Zita, the
matriarch of the Donati family, mezzo-soprano Mallory Harding went at the role
with a bracing zest. Soprano Rachael Long, who has also had quite a season of
triumphs on the storefront opera stages, singing multiple roles in rapid
succession, presented a truly charming Lauretta. Her lilting voice and gently
manipulative characterization proved her well-placed for the bigger assignments
certain to come her way in future programming. This season saw the ascendance
of new arrival Steven Michael Patrick. There seems to be no ceiling over the
top range of this young tenor, and he made short work of the multiple B-flats
required of Rinuccio. Tall, attractive, and possessed of a magnetic stage
presence, he is certain to stack up credits in the scene until he is lost to
the salaries of larger houses. Stuart Thompson sang Gianni Schicchi with an
engaging, youthful exuberance not often heard in performances of this role,
which is usually assayed by elder baritone artists who have reached the buffos-only stage of their career. It
was a real joy to hear the safely-produced, wildly-comic character voice he
used as Schicchi in disguise. Placido Domingo recently sang this role at The
Metropolitan Opera, and although he is many, many years the senior of Thompson,
there was a palpable joy that lived in the moment of both performances that
invited affable comparison.

Musical director Eric Douglas Carlson’s work was in
evidence everywhere. The singing was delivered in a healthy and appropriate
style, and Carlson’s support and collaboration at the piano was always an
asset. Director Jennifer Cox, one of the most popular directors on the scene,
came into her own in a with these productions. A late-comer to opera (although
not to music), Cox has brought her contemporary acting and directing techniques
to bear on the form while honoring its traditions. The result is a freshness
and an immediacy of performance which answers the question of how to invite new
audiences into the opera house.  Cox was
the truest crow of the evening, constantly surprising us with her ingenuity as
she brought us shiny bobbles, bangles, and beads and laid them at our captivated
feet.

Highly
Recommended

Reviewed
by Aaron Hunt

Presented
April 5-7 in the Ebenezer Lutheran Church Auditorium, 1650 W. Foster Ave, Chicago

More information about New Moon Opera is available at www.newmoonopera.org.

Additional information about this and other area productions can be found at www.theatreinchicago.com.