Show Boat: Back to America’s Roots

We thoroughly enjoyed Lyric’s staging of Show Boat, even if it wasn’t quite the usual operatic offerings with unamplified voices. But the musical, which focused on fundamental transitional moments in history, was a fascinating study of art mirrors life mirrors art.

The story took us through the evolution of American theater – from roaming show boats to revues to the beginnings of the Broadway musicals we see today. Indeed, Show Boat has been heralded as the father of the American musical theater tradition. And, as director Francesca Zambello explained, Show Boat is “the beginning of America’s own version of opera. [It] is to this country’s audiences what 19th century opera was to Italian and German audiences, both in its level of accessibility and popularity. Because it is a crossover work, there are both the vestigial influences of Europe [Kern knew
his Puccini, Verdi, Mussorgsky and operetta], but also a real sense of American music, from jazz to gospel to vaudeville, with all the mix of languages of an immigrant country. It was just an incredibly forward-thinking show.”

I was also struck by how reflective the music and dialogue was of the times and the character. The speech and songs weren’t stylized, but came across as natural, and lent much realism to the plot, like a couple of the jazzier numbers.

Loved the staging – lots of truly funny moments. And the set was gorgeous – though it was somewhat disconcerting that people actually interrupted the orchestra on a few occasions to applaud the scenery (!). The cast, in general, was stellar. Nathan Gunn of course, is always fun to watch, since he has a bright baritone and consummate acting chops to go with. The Broadway stars held their own with the singing too, aided by the discreet microphone placements.

Chicago Classical Review writes:

When Show Boat opened in 1927, American musical theater consisted of either revue-type burlesque shows with Ziegfeld-girl eye candy or featherweight scenarios of college romances replete with flappers and raccoon coats.

With Show Boat composer Jerome Kern and lyricist Oscar Hammerstein II forcibly lifted the American musical out of its frivolous origins. With a key miscegenation subplot, the creators shined a bright light on America’s sorry racial history—a courageous act in 1927—and showed that the musical can be a richer, deeper, more serious art form, paving the way for works to come like Carousel, West Side Story and Rent.

Adapted from Edna Ferber’s sprawling novel, the story covers nearly a half-century in the life of Magnolia Hawks, daughter of Captain Andy of the Cotton Blossom showboat, who meets and falls in love with the charming but feckless gambler Gaylord Ravenal. Their history takes them to Chicago at the 1893 World’s Fair, where Ravenal abandons his wife and their young daughter Kim, and into the jazz age. The tale comes full circle back to the showboat for a tear-jerking if improbable finale in which the aged, guilt-stricken Ravenal returns to reunite with Magnolia—now a celebrated and successful singer—and their grown-up daughter. The darker secondary plot concerns Magnolia’s friend Julie, who is forced to leave the Cotton Blossom when it is revealed that she is half black and in a mixed-race marriage with Steve, which ultimately leads to her alcoholism and ruin.

Yet even more than the compelling storyline and blend of broad humor and stark drama it is the rich score that has kept Show Boat a beloved perennial, with such standards as Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man, Make Believe, Old Man River and You Are Love, all in the first act alone. There are a multitude of alternate songs written for various revivals and the 1936 film, and conductor John DeMain and director Francesca Zambello have done a masterful job of choosing material, restoring some gems—like the ominous chorus Mis’ry’s Comin’ Aroun‘—and giving welcome additional stage time to the principal African-American characters, Joe and Queenie.

The essential difference between opera and musical theater is that opera is primarily about voices while theater is primarily about songs and the production. And with the voices discreetly amplified for both dialogueand singing in this Show Boat, any evaluation of the vocalism has to come with a significant asterisk attached.

Lyric’s Roger Pines analysis of the opera:

Frivolity abounded on Broadway in the mid-1920s, thanks to shows with titles such as Manhattan Mary, The Merry Malones, and Yes, Yes, Yvette. Then suddenly there came to the stage a magnificent score with such dramatic power that it singlehandedly took musical theater several giant steps forward. That show – eagerly anticipated at Lyric Opera this season – was composer Jerome Kern’s masterpiece, Show Boat, with book and lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II.

A major scholar of American musicals, Miles Kreuger, writes that they can be “divided into two eras: everything before Show Boat, and everything after Show Boat.” He mentions specifically what set this piece apart when it premiered 84 years ago:

• controversial themes were dealt with, yet without sacrificing wonderful tunes;

• for the first time in musicals, a protagonist progressed from impressionable teen to strong, independent adult;

• also for the first time, a Broadway show was racially integrated – with a black chorus and a white chorus onstage singing together.

…

Racial tensions are undeniably part of Show Boat and, from the start, the piece has provoked controversy. 1920s audiences were startled when the curtain rose on Act One. Richard Eyre and Nicholas Wright write that “instead of a line of chorus girls showing their legs in the opening number singing that they were happy, happy, happy, the curtain rose on black dockhands lifting bales of cotton and singing about the hardness of their lives.”

Kern and Hammerstein recognized that during the decades of this drama, African-Americans had a long way to go to achieve equality in all aspects of their lives. The creative team revealed their sensitivity in the stoic feeling inherent in the show’s most familiar song, “Ol’ Man River,” and in the black workers’ stirring lament, “Mis’ry’s Comin’ Aroun’.” Despite the efforts of Kern and Hammerstein, Show Boat continues toarouse sharply differing views among audiences and critics even today.

The show’s characters originated in a novel created by Edna Ferber, one of America’s most celebrated writers. To composer Jerome Kern, Ferber’s Show Boat (1926) seemed a natural for musical theater. Kern got Ferber’s approval, brought Hammerstein on board, and found a producer in the legendary Florenz Ziegfeld. With a terrific cast in place, the stage was set for something fabulous.

But Show Boat’s performance history didn’t begin promisingly: at the premiere in Washington, D.C., it ran a whopping four hours and ten minutes. Significant cuts were made, but at opening night on Broadway (December 27, 1927), there was – unbelievably – virtually no applause after any of the musical numbers. Everyone was astonished when the reviews turned out to be raves. Show Boat was launched, and it’s been conquering audiences ever since.

What an irresistible piece this is, bursting with songs that are truly enriched by the warmth and expansiveness of operatic voices! With Kern’s gift for melody married to Hammerstein’s unerringly characterful lyrics, everything is a highlight, from bouncy specialty numbers to three memorable love duets. The creators provided wonderfully lively moments with two boisterous songs for Queenie (soprano Angela Renée Simpson, debut), the Cotton Blossom’s feisty cook. Her husband, the warm-hearted stevedore Joe (bass Morris Robinson, debut – see “Entrances & Encores,” p. 16), can steal the show singing “Ol’ Man River,” the jewel in Show Boat’s crown.

Hammerstein’s libretto was unique for its time, actually creating an impetus for characters to sing; musical numbers emerged naturally out of the dialogue. Integrating song and story was the single greatest step in the development of the American musical. It’s already evident early in Act One’s meeting of Magnolia and Ravenal, with dialogue that moves seamlessly into “Make Believe.”

The Kern-Hammerstein duo also revealed character in ways their predecessors couldn’t approach. Surprisingly, it’s the key supporting female role, Julie, rather than the lead, Magnolia, who gets the most illuminating songs: “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man” and “Bill” provide deep insight into a woman whose devotion to the man she loves is ultimately her destruction. There’s no figure more touching in American musical theater.

Chicago Tribune’s review:

‘Show Boat’ makes new waves – at Lyric Opera

John von Rhein

Classical music critic

February 8, 2012

It’s high time to lay to rest the shopworn canard that American musical theater works are somehow unsuitable for presentation by the big American opera houses. As a matter of fact, no piece in the cavalcade of American musicals has a more legitimate right to be taken under the wing of a major company like Lyric Opera than the landmark known as “Show Boat.”

That’s because only a theater such as Lyric’s has the resources to satisfy the enormous musical and production requirements of the 1927 classic, with its tune-laden Jerome Kern score and finely-wrought book and lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein 2nd, based on the sprawling novel of Edna Ferber.

“Show Boat” – which docks for the first time at the Lyric Sunday afternoon at the Civic Opera House, in a new production directed by Francesca Zambello – calls for a huge cast of operatically-trained voices (musical comedy singers as well), actors, dancers, large orchestra, two choruses (one Caucasian, one African American) and lavish production values.

Try putting all that together on a shoestring, let alone squeezing it into your average Broadway theater or touring house.

“Show Boat” is where modern American musical theater began, the show that set a benchmark for everything that came after. It is the first American musical where the songs grow out of character and narrative, where a frivolous plot is replaced by serious themes – in this case, racial tensions and miscegenation. These themes play out against a panoramic historical backdrop filled with social changes that parallel the lives of the Hawks family and their troupe on the show boat Cotton Blossom, from the 1880s to the 1920s.

The Mississippi River – apostrophized by the stevedore Joe (Morris Robinson) in the show’s most famous number, “Ol’ Man River” – represents the inexorable flow of time that opens and heals the wounds of the central characters. These include the stagestruck Magnolia Hawks (Ashley Brown), daughter of the show boat captain; the feckless gambler Gaylord Ravenal (Nathan Gunn), who marries Magnolia and later abandons her and their child; and Magnolia’s friend Julie (Alyson Cambridge), a singing actress of mixed race, who sacrifices her job as headliner at a Chicago nightclub to allow Magnolia her big break.

 

Bucket List of Countries to Hit

Since my vacation days have mostly been allocated for the year, Jeff and I are starting to think about where we’d like to go next year. I think it pays to plan in advance, since we’d have a better chance of scoring deals that way anyway. Hehe.

He really wants to go to South America, in particular Argentina… but I’ve been there already. We’ve come to agreement though, to make an extended trip there when we’ve both quit our jobs and before we drive out to the west coast. That’s the plan anyway, to finally bid goodbye to the Midwest via a road trip through the back roads of America.

In the meantime, we’ve our eye on Turks and Caicos for a spot of diving next year, and possibly a week tramping in Iceland. Plus the usual short weekend getaways to climb, drink, and watch opera. Hehe.

From Journal Headers

From Journal Headers

Rabbits of Seville

Haha, what a classic!

Another Bugs Figaro:

Here’s another Figaro starring Tom and Jerry:

The Amazing Grandpa T.

My grandpa – the latest Singapore YouTube sensation. Haha, he’s quite the actor!

Mid Winter Party

We had about 20 people over last night for a mid winter bash, most of them fellow wine enthusiasts, with the theme of Syrah/Shiraz wines.

We love to host, though we’re not good cooks. Hehe. But we bought a gigantic chicken pot pie from Costco that I threw into the oven that was very well received, and even tried my hand at baking a cheesecake (which turned out really amazing too, yay!). Jeff also bought bunch of tulips to place over our mini wine fridge to give it more color.

It was a fun evening. We threw our friends from our different parts of life – climbing, drinking, trapeze, and work – into our living room and everyone mingled and laughed easily together. People brought many bottles of wine, which we mostly polished off, and Eric made an upside down pear cake that was most delicious. I had such a great time, I didn’t even pay attention to the wines I was drinking, and consequently, had to spend most of the day sleeping. Hehe.

Enchanted Island at the Met

I wasn’t sure what to expect for the Met’s new commissioned opera, The Enchanted Island. On the one hand, it was Baroque opera, which I don’t really have a lot of patience for. And some of the reviews were not all that enthusiastic about the length of the piece. On the other, it’s a pastiche opera that borrows arias from the leading Baroque composers of the time, and weaved together to tell the amalgamated tale of Shakespeare’s Tempest meets the Midsummer’s Night Dream. Which sounded fun! And it’s sung by a whole host of some of my favorite opera stars today – Joyce Didonato, David Daniels, Danielle de Niese, Placido Domingo…

So I went to the AMC Theater to catch the encore HD broadcast with some trepidation. If it turned out boring, I reckoned, I could always skip out early. But my fears were unfounded. I had such a lovely time! Jimmy Sam’s English libretto is playful and hilarious. Lots of little gems like ‘Lysander and Miranda – we rhyme!’ (sung with a gleeful little hop); ‘What happened to my spell? Duh, wrong ship!’, when Ariel realized how she had mistakenly shipwrecked the wrong ship.

I enjoyed the staging and the set – the use of computer graphics and animation was marvelous, especially in the shipwreck scene and the scene when we’re brought under the sea to Neptune’s court. The costume designs were very detailed and imaginative as well, and I couldn’t help but burst into laughter when Ariel appeared before Neptune in a vintage diver’s suit complete with the metallic diving helmet.

The cast was wonderful. Joyce Didonato, in particular, gave a rousing performance with her fearless colorations and heartfelt emotions. Her entrance aria, “Maybe Soon, Maybe Now” was so gorgeously sung, as was her duet at the end with Caliban, when she was trying to console him for his lost love. My other favorites: David Daniels (Prospero), Elizabeth DeShong (Hermia), Anthony Roth Costanzo (Ferdinand), Luca Pisaroni (Caliban).

NYTimes’ Review:

Shiny Bibelot From Shakespeare, Handel & Co.

Forget “Auld Lang Syne.” The best music to ring in a new year is “Now a bright new day is dawning,” the joyous chorus that ends “The Enchanted Island,” the inventive concoction that had its premiere on Saturday night at the Metropolitan Opera. The music for this finale is lifted from the “Hallelujah” chorus that concludes Handel’s oratorio “Judas Maccabaeus.” The new words are by the librettist Jeremy Sams, who devised the story and assembled this fanciful, clever and touching pastiche by selecting arias, ensembles, choruses and dances from works by Handel, Vivaldi, Rameau and lesser-known Baroque composers.

But the idea came from Peter Gelb, the Met’s general manager, who has had his hits and misses since arriving at the company in 2006. This was a good idea. His vision was carried out beautifully by Mr. Sams, aided by a terrific cast, the conductor William Christie and a brilliant production team headed by the director Phelim McDermott (that team that gave the Met its remarkable staging of “Satyagraha”).

As Mr. Gelb said in a recent interview, he wanted to “play the Baroque card” at the Met in a fresh way. Why not a pastiche? In the Baroque era the practice of borrowing music from one opera and fitting it with new words for another drama was commonplace.

This project could easily have resulted in a gimmicky piece with a mashed-up score. But Mr. Sams, who is a writer, director, translator and film composer, saw both the potential humor and the richness in the idea.

The story he devised, conflating elements of two Shakespeare plays with wit and charm, centers on Prospero, the brooding hero of “The Tempest,” an exiled duke of Milan who lives on a remote island with his devoted daughter, Miranda, and spends his days immersed in books containing formulas for potions and magic spells. Here the sorceress Sycorax, only mentioned in Shakespeare, is Prospero’s former lover and a central character. Prospero has banished Sycorax to the dark realm of the island, stolen her spirit servant, Ariel, and forced her savage son, Caliban, into servitude.

Hoping to ensure Miranda’s future and end his exile, Prospero conceives a plan to have Ariel create a storm that will wash ashore a passing ship bearing Prince Ferdinand, whom Prospero hopes to match with Miranda. But the spell is sabotaged by Sycorax, and another ship, bearing the four Athenian lovers from Shakespeare’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” is beset. A matrix of mismatched romantic pairings ensues on the island, due to Ariel’s hapless applications of love potions.

What gives “The Enchanted Island” its poignancy is the palpable respect for the beautiful borrowed music. In the first scene Prospero, here the charismatic countertenor David Daniels, promises Ariel, the brilliant soprano Danielle de Niese, freedom if she will summon a storm. The music for Prospero’s alluring aria is taken from a Vivaldi cantata, sung by Mr. Daniels with a transfixing blend of melting sound and forceful delivery. Ariel answers in an aptly effusive and wily aria, “I can conjure you a fire,” with vibrant music from Handel’s oratorio “Il Trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno,” which Ms. de Niese deftly dispatched.

In most numbers Mr. Sams recycled not just the arias but the recitatives, retrofitted with new words. Where he had to compose new recitatives, he did it so well that you could not tell what was what.

The mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato was Sycorax, costumed at first (by Kevin Pollard) in a ragtag robe, her head all unkempt braids, giving her a slightly Rastafarian look. She commanded the stage from her first showcase scene, when she plotted her revenge on Prospero in “Maybe soon, maybe now” (music from Handel’s “Teseo”), singing with cool control, then bursting into fearless flights of passagework.

The bass-baritone Luca Pisaroni as Caliban looked menacing yet endearing in an exotic costume that suggested the Cowardly Lion with Kabuki whiteface. He relished the part and excelled in his volatile aria “Mother, my blood is freezing” (with music from Vivaldi’s “Farnace”). The lyric soprano Lisette Oropesa brought a gleaming voice and beguiling grace to Miranda. The countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo was a sweet-toned Ferdinand.

A strong quartet of young singers sang the Athenian lovers: the rich soprano Layla Claire, Helena; the bright-voiced tenor Paul Appleby, Demetrius; the plush mezzo-soprano Elizabeth DeShong, Hermia; and the hearty baritone Elliot Madore, Lysander, in a strong Met debut. They first appear on ship at sea, jauntily singing “Days of pleasure, nights of love” (originally “Endless pleasure, endless love” from Handel’s “Semele”).

This episode also epitomized the creativity of Mr. McDermott’s production, with Julian Crouch as associate director and set designer. The set inventively combines traditional scenery flats with sophisticated videos. When we first see the ship, it rocks gently atop waves created by old-fashioned cutout boards that lift and dip. But when the storm breaks, frightening video images (created by 59 Productions) evoke swelling seas, hail and wind as the ship goes down.

What would a Baroque pastiche be without a star turn? This one had the tenor Plácido Domingo, no less, as Neptune: by his count, his 136th role (and first full-fledged god). Neptune, with flowing beard and silver raiment, is introduced in a dazzling underwater scene with an aquatic chorus of courtiers singing “Neptune the Great” (using “Zadok the Priest,” a Handel coronation anthem). Four mermaids float above. And Ariel, come to seek Neptune’s help, arrives in deep-sea diver’s gear.

In a gripping recitative and aria, patched together with music from Handel and Rameau, a despairing Neptune comments on the sorry state of the world and bemoans that his gift to mortals, the sublime ocean, has been despoiled by man. In this short but crucial role Mr. Domingo could let loose and really sing, which he did with heroic fervor. And as the run continues, this busy artist may not need to glance quite so much at the prompter’s box.

In the spirit of Baroque opera “The Enchanted Island” is long. Maybe too long, especially the first act, with its many contemplative arias. Still, the piece unfolds with remarkable integrity and consistency, despite the use of music from so many sources and styles.

Baroque purists who object should be quieted by the presence on the podium of Mr. Christie, who has done as much as any musician today to champion Baroque opera. I cannot imagine Handel, the Mr. Showbiz of his day, having any problem with “The Enchanted Island.” His only question would have been whether he would be paid an up-front fee or receive a percentage of the profits.

Eating in New York

I love New York for its hundreds of restaurants everywhere. One is truly spoilt for choice. I stayed over at my ex-roommate Wendy’s place in the East Village this trip. I was drooling just from walking around!

We have our eating routine in New York down pat though: a nice restaurant the first evening, then Chinatown Sunday morning for cheap but delicious dim sum.

This trip, we chose Boulud Sud, which is conveniently located across Lincoln Center. Our last trip, we went to another of Daniel Boulud half dozen restaurants in the city, Cafe Boulud. While we enjoyed that meal, we found the ambience a little too stuffy.

Happily, Boulud Sud’s dining room has a much airier feel with its contemporary decor of high ceilings. The cuisine is Mediterranean-themed and the pre-fixed menu focuses on fish.

Our table of five weren’t too adventurous in our choices and stuck mostly to the same dishes. For the appetizers, we had the grilled octopus with almonds and pan seared mackerel that was meaty and immensely satisfying. Jeff ordered the eggplant and chickpeas falafel dish, which was unimaginative (on both his and the restaurant’s part) though decent.

For our entrees, 3 of us had the sea bass wrapped in scallions on a bed of polenta with a side of crispy potato gratin. It was delicious and paired really well with our Saar Riesling. Kat ordered the calf liver that I had been eyeing and it was so good! Mike had the wagyu beef and they were most generous with the cuts.

Dessert was also a highlight – orange dark chocolate tart with pomegranate sorbet. And grapefruit mousse with a caramel glaze served in a wine glass.

Haha, it was such a pleasure to indulge with seriously tasty food, instead of average fare dressed in really fancy presentation served by condescending waiters. Which was how our Alinea experience last week felt like. Alinea touts itself as a Mecca for molecular gastronomy, but thinking back, the only dish that really qualified as such was the distilled hot chocolate that looked like clear water but tasted exactly like chocolate. Otherwise, I’d say that the flavors were pretty distinct. In contrast, our meal at Boulud Sud packed a real punch in flavors.

On Sunday, we went to Shanghai Heping on 104 Mott Street, a newly opened restaurant in Chinatown, so new, they did not even have the credit card readers up and running yet. We went on a friend’s recommendation, and weren’t in the least disappointed. Their soup dumplings is the best we’ve had in recent memory!!! The skin was thin and delicate but sturdy enough to hold the ton of soup within. I was in such bliss sucking and slurping up the broth. Our table of 10 enjoyed the dish do much we ordered four steamer trays of it, on top of the 10 other dishes we ordered! Other highlights – Shanghai noodles, pea pods. Definitely worth a return trip!

Anna Bolena in New York

I had looked on several occasions, but hadn’t been able to find any available tickets to Anna Netrebko’s Anna Bolena at the Metropolitan Opera. By chance, I mentioned it in passing to Jo, an old elementary school friend now living in New York.

She went to the website for a look and excitedly pinged me. Four tickets available!!! After just a moment’s hesitation, we snapped them up. Then, I went to look for flights. Hehe.

It was so so so good! First of all, I had read a lot of reviews that panned the staging, and the critics openly wondered about Peter Gelb’s push for non-operatic directors to produce operas. But I really loved the set. Yes it was grey, but I thought the somber colors suited the tone of the opera, and in any case, the lighting was really excellent. Very dramatic.

We enjoyed a performance from an evenly strong cast too. It was thrilling to be able to hear Anna Netrebko live, after having only heard her in movie theaters and at home for so long. Her voice was true and clear, soaring effortlessly to the upper levels of the balcony where we were seated. Her mad scene aria was out of this world. For a few whole stanzas, she sang completely unsupported. Gave me the goose pimples. As soon as her last notes died away, the audience as one erupted in a frenzy. Most exciting!!!

As we walked out of the enormous, plush theater, I felt a pang of regret, and a tinge of jealousy. Haha for a moment (or two) I wished I lived in NYC too, so I could have regular access to this beautiful opera house and it’s stellar line up of international stars. (And access to the hundreds and hundreds of good eateries too, but that is another story).

Oh well. Given the crazy high standard of living, I think it is still cheaper for us to live elsewhere and make the occasional sojourn to the city. There’s the Diana Damrau and Juan Diego Florez production of Elisir d’Amore this spring, and I have to say I am quite tempted to make another trip out.

Aida at the Lyric

Last evening, we joined some 30 U of C alumni at the Metropolitan Club. Over a simple but surprisingly delicious fare of salad, sea bass, and salted chocolate cake and wine, we listened to Phillip Gossett give a lecture on Verdi’s Aida. It was most educational, and we gleamed a ton of insights (the political background when Verdi wrote the opera; how Verdi tried to break away from the traditional duet structure e.g. in Rigoletto), even if I didn’t always understand the technical terms he threw out. It was fun chatting with our dinner companions at the table too – three hip mothers whose children attend the lab school, a doctor, and a lady who got her Masters in the Social Sciences.

I’d so much fun enthusing about opera with the folks at dinner that, when we got to the theater, I struck up a conversation with the couple who had been seating next to us at all the performances we’ve seen so far this year. The simple question I posed to them – what were some of your most memorable performances at the Lyric – had them reaching back across the 15 or so years they’d been subscribers. They thought about it all through the first two acts of Aida, before confessing that it was way easier to list the operas they’d hated. Haha. The gentleman told us that he can’t read music, though his mother was one of the winners of the Metropolitan Opera Auditions way back in 1943!

The performance itself was enjoyable. It’s another tragic love story, but this plot, unlike most other romantic plots, has an air of finite inevitability to it. I mean, the star-crossed lovers of Romeo and Juliet have nothing on Radames and Aida. For the latter, their forbidden love leads to treason, and betrayal of an entire people!

Sondra Radvanovsky, we thought, was the clear star of the evening, with her endless strings of gorgeous pianissimos. Everyone clearly shared the same sentiment – the shouts of bravo at her curtain call was thunderous. It was a pity though, that the orchestra, under Renato Palumbo, sometimes drowned out the singers.