Seasons Greetings from Bradley Vernatter

 

A Note from Bradley Vernatter

Each year as we gather with family and friends to celebrate the holiday season, I am reminded of the extraordinary people I am privileged to meet through my work at Boston Lyric Opera. This year I was able to make new, lasting connections through our educational partnership programs and our work in our Fort Point Arts Neighborhood. 

In the fall, we launched the Opera Innovators Series, a new educational and artist development partnership with Boston Conservatory at Berklee voice and opera programs. This partnership fulfills our Company goals and unlocks incredible opportunities for the next generation of opera artists - BLO's Jane and Steven Akin Emerging Artists and PCP students. 

I saw that come to life last week with soprano Karen Slack's terrific master class presentation. Seeing her support these young singers in their artistic development was a treat. Up next for the series, I can't wait to welcome BLO Artistic Advisor Nina Yoshida Nelson and Anne Bogart, visionary director of BLO's 2019 The Handmaid's Tale, whose work you will see again for our upcoming production of Bluebeard's Castle/Four Songs.

Pictured from left to right: Brett Hodgdon, Pianist (BCB Faculty; BLO Jane & Steven Akin Emerging Artist Alumnus), 

Julia Janowski, Mezzo-Soprano (BCB '24), Fred C. VanNess Jr., Tenor (Jane & Steven Emerging Artist),

Kayla Kovaks, Soprano (BCB '24), Laura Santamaria-Mendez, Soprano (BCB '23), Karen Slack, Soprano,

Jamila Drecker-Waxman, Soprano (BCB '23)

Our programming in the Fort Point Arts Neighborhood has also brought new relationships, like the many artists and operagoers I met at the Fort Point Open Studios in the fall. When BLO relocated to Midway Artist Studios, we joined an established group of creative people who have made this rapidly growing area friendly and affordable for artists. Good things happen in places where the arts thrive. I see that here, and it inspires me to continue working with our partners to make arts and cultural spaces that strengthen our community.

Of course, my most rewarding connection is with you, our audiences, and the champions of BLO. I am so thankful for the support we receive, and so are the many artists we work with each year. Thank you for being a vital part of making opera and contributing to a strong arts community in Boston.

From all of us at Boston Lyric Opera, we wish you a joyful holiday season and a very Happy New Year.

Wish warm wishes-and gratitude,

Brad

Bradley Vernatter

Stanford Calderwood General Director & Chief Executive Officer

Roger Honeywell: From Actor to Opera Singer

By Richard Dyer

Roger Honeywell

A couple of years ago, Roger Honeywell did the math and realized he had worked full-time as a professional opera singer longer than he had worked full-time as a professional actor. And then he tweeted, “I guess I can now stop acting as if I'm an opera singer…”

The Canadian tenor is in town to sing and act the leading male role in Boston Lyric Opera’s new production of Franz Lehár’s operetta, The Merry Widow. And he is quick to add, “I’m no Fred Astaire, but I can dance, and I’ll waltz in it too.”

The Merry Widow opens at the Shubert Theater on April 29, with additional performances on May 1 (matinee), 4, 6, and 8 (matinee).

Recently, Honeywell was rehearsing with the rest of the cast in the darkened Colonial Theater on Boylston Street; during his lunch hour he sat down at a table in the lobby to discuss the unusual trajectory of his career.

Honeywell is an affable guy in his mid-40s; he still has the charismatic looks to play a romantic lead: tall, lean, fit (he’s a runner), with an eye-catching curly tousle of red hair on his head. Several prominent opera singers have prolonged their careers by continuing as stage actors after their singing days were over, but to cross over to opera from the “legitimate” theater is far less common.

Honeywell says he became an actor because he didn’t want to go into the family business, which was music; his mother used to perform leading female roles in shows opposite the young Robert Goulet. “I took voice lessons when I was 14, but my interest was in acting, which I studied in Toronto at the conservatory and at the Ryerson Theatre School,” Honeywell says.

In 1998 he left school before graduating in order to become an apprentice at the Stratford (Ontario) Shakespeare Festival; he worked there for four years, and then spent four additional years based at the nearby Shaw Festival Theatre. His most prominent Shakespearean role was Sir Andrew Aguecheek in Twelfth Night. “I never did starring roles, like Richard III, but I had good parts in Henry V and The Merry Wives of Windsor, and the festival did a broad repertory – I was in Thornton Wilder’s Our Town, for example.”

At the Shaw Festival, he acted in several plays by George Bernard Shaw as well as in several of the remarkable but neglected plays by Harley Granville-Barker, who was GBS’s favorite actor. “These plays were way ahead of their time. Of course, as an actor in Canada, you had to be ready for anything,” Honeywell remembers “I also did radio and commercials and voice-overs, roles in Canadian and American TV shows, and even some films. The popular TV series about a Shakespeare Festival in Canada, Slings and Arrows, was the story of my life in those days and all my friends were in it. I still live in Stratford, where my wife is an assistant director for the musical shows, and we have two children, a girl who is 14, and a boy who is 13.”

Honeywell even appeared in a few musicals, including Bernstein’s On the Town, a sung version of Dracula (he played Jonathan Harker) and Leslie Arden’s version of The Return of Martin Guerre. For that show, in 1997, he won the prestigious Dora Award presented by the Toronto Alliance for the Arts for the best performance by an actor in a musical. In time, this award led to his shift into a career in opera.

“Something about these musicals really spoke to me and cemented a real desire to sing. The next year, in 1998, I was invited to be a presenter at the Dora Awards because I was a former winner. One of the other presenters was Richard Bradshaw, who was then running the Canadian Opera Company. I just walked up to him and said, ‘I’d love to sing for you,’ and sure enough I did, and he offered to take me on. I had to wait for a year to earn enough money because I knew that if I made the change, I wouldn’t be able to work for a while. But in 2000, I started at Canadian Opera, singing Rodrigo in Verdi’s Otello and understudying parts in The Bartered Bride and La Fanciulla del West. I also started working with a voice teacher, Marlena Malas, at the Chautauqua Festival in New York. I was also in the young artists’ program at the Chicago Lyric Opera. All this took a certain amount of moxie on my part.”

Over the last dozen years, Honeywell’s operatic career has continued to develop and grow. At the core of his repertory are parts like Don José in Bizet’s Carmen, which he will sing with BLO in the fall, in the renowned production by Calixto Bieito, as well as roles in operas by Britten (Peter Grimes and Billy Budd); he feels especially driven to Laca in Janáček’s Jenůfa . All these roles are strongly associated with the greatest Canadian tenor, the late Jon Vickers, who Honeywell says is idol—he knew Vickers personally not through opera, but through Vickers’ son Ben, who is an actor. Honeywell is also an admirer of two other prominent Canadian tenors, Ben Heppner and Richard Margison.

In addition to his work in the standard repertory, he has also done parts in new operas, a process which he particularly enjoys because nobody is going to compare him to anybody else; it isn’t easy to sing Rodolfo in La Bohème when audiences expect you to sound like Pavarotti. Honeywell has sung in Jennifer Higdon’s Cold Mountain, Paul Moravec’s The Letter, Lewis Spratlan’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Life Is a Dream, and Silent Night by Kevin Puts; he has understudied Captain Ahab in Jake Heggie’s Moby-Dick and is eager to perform the role. Recently he appeared in Sondheim’s Passion in Paris; Natalie Dessay headed the cast. Right after The Merry Widow he goes into rehearsal for the world premiere of Ours, by John Estacio.

At the beginning, he says he took nearly every role he was offered, refusing to be bound by any system of expectations. “If the character makes any sense to me,” he says, “I will try it. I try bring myself into every role.” But he’s not eager to repeat every role he has tried. “I sang Rodolfo in La Bohème pretty well, I thought, but it is not in my wheelhouse anymore.”

His recent schedule has found him singing Richard Strauss (Salome, Elektra, Ariadne auf Naxos, Daphne), Puccini (Tosca and Madama Butterfly), additional contemporary operas (Tea by Tan Dun, Lillian Alling by Estacio, The Inventor by the conductor Bramwell Tovey) as well as three operettas (Die Fledermaus, The Merry Widow, and The Pirates of Penzance). For the future, he is interested in Wagner’s Siegfried (“It lies right in my voice and I want to do it before I get too old”) and two more Vickers roles, Samson in Samson et Dalila, perhaps Verdi’s Otello, although he worries about singing it in blackface. “And, of course, I want to do more operas that haven’t been written yet.”

Danilo in The Merry Widow is a part he has done often, and enjoys performing; it gives him a chance to have “so much fun” onstage because the work is so well-written and well-crafted, and he thinks director Lillian Groag’s ideas for the BLO production are so interesting.“The piece is full of froth and fun, as it always is, but this time it has a real core to it.”

The leading characters, Hanna and Danilo, have a past together in the operetta’s fictional country of Pontevedro. They were once in love, but he was a aristocrat and she was a farm girl, and the difference in their social stations made the relationship impossible; he broke it off. Then she married the richest man in the country, who soon died, leaving her the richest woman in the country—the titular “merry widow.” The couple meets again in Paris, and government officials want them to marry to keep the fortune in Pontevedrian hands.

“[Hanna and Danilo] are both witty and smart, and they constantly spar with each other, like Beatrice and Benedick in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing,” Honeywell says. “Danilo has thrown himself into the playboy world, and he is leading a frivolous and flippant life as his way of forgetting. But beneath the surface there is a deep root of pain and loss, a tragic loss of love. At points all the old problems surface—they get together again, then fall apart again. The other couple in the story, Camille and Valencienne, is playing games; Hanna and Danilo want to give the appearance of playing games, but they are not.

“Also this is the very end of the Belle-Époque; the characters don’t realize it yet, but life as they know it is about to end. They are waltzing on the brink of World War I and their world is spinning out of control. Everything audiences have always loved about The Merry Widow is still there, but we are viewing it from a different angle.”

Many singers are terrified of spoken dialogue in operas like The Magic Flute or operettas like The Merry Widow. They don’t know how to project it and bellow instead; they find it tires their singing voices. Honeywell says this doesn’t bother him. “The answer is never to push anything. Danilo has to roar, but he doesn’t have to shout, and he has to be able to sing beautifully and with a good line. The answer is never to push it, either in speaking or singing, and then anything you do feeds into anything else that you do.”

Honeywell speaks with Dyer in the lobby of the Colonial Theatre.

Honeywell says he sees no technical difference between acting in opera and in spoken plays. “It isn’t even a question of tempo,” he says, noting the differences between speaking and singing, “especially in classic theater, where there are long thoughts—and long speeches. You have to stretch your thought over long sentences, and in opera, you have to convey the thought across stretches of music. This is what I do, just the same way as people do what they do in their office—I am in my office, so to speak, when I’m on the stage; I’ve been doing that for so long that it has become second nature. Yes, you do have to think about your vocal technique and about the conductor and things like that—onstage you can do anything you want in a play, you can make it completely yours, but in an opera you have to do everything within the line of the music. But you don’t stop acting when you stop speaking or singing; one of the most important aspects of acting is the skill of listening to what other people are saying or singing to you, and responding or reacting to it. Maybe in opera you have to listen slower…”

At that moment in our conversation, a group of grisettes and a coven of chorines and can-can girls makes its way into the lobby, and they begin their stretching exercises on the floor. It is time for the interview to end, and soon Honeywell will be up on the stage in the auditorium, speaking, singing, dancing—and listening.

Richard Dyer is a distinguished writer and lecturer. He wrote about music for The Boston Globe for more than 30 years, serving as chief music critic for most of that time. He has twice won the Deems Taylor/ASCAP Award for Distinguished Music Criticism.

Alex Richardson Dives into Werther: An Interview with Richard Dyer

Alex Richardson sings the title role in Boston Lyric Opera's Werther.
Photo by T. Charles Erickson.

The former New Mexico high school state champion in springboard diving is currently singing the title role in Massenet’s Werther with Boston Lyric Opera. That would be the rising American tenor Alex Richardson. (His final three performances are tonight, Friday night at 7:30pm and Sunday afternoon at 3pm in the Shubert Theater.)

It is a long way from high school diving to portraying the neurotic, self-absorbed and suicidal hero Werther, who was created by the young Johann Wolfgang von Goethe out of his own recent painful memories—an anti-hero/poet who has haunted the imagination of the world for more than two and a half centuries now. Massenet’s operatic adaptation is one of the longest and most strenuous roles in the repertory for lyric tenor, but Richardson’s performance has earned him another sheaf of admiring reviews to add to his growing pile.

He has encountered Werther before, but this is his first major production of the opera. A few years ago he learned and memorized the part in two weeks in order to replace both singers who were supposed to alternate in the role in a production at the University of North Texas; the conductor, who was a friend, asked him to step into this emergency. Later he covered the role for the National Opera in Washington, D. C., although he was never called on to go on; Crystal Manich, BLO’s stage director, also worked on that production. After that he sang the opera again recently in a concert performance in New York’s Merkin Hall. So Richardson felt ready to take on the role on short notice when the artist the BLO had engaged was forced to cancel when he unexpectedly required surgery for a back problem.

But he accepted the offer with one caveat—he would need to miss part of the rehearsal period. He has been married for three years, but the planned honeymoon in Costa Rica had already been too often postponed because of changes in Richardson’s schedule, even though the couple had had reservations. So in mid-rehearsals, Werther basked in the sun for a week.

The rest may have done him good. “This is a really long role and learning to pace yourself in it is a continuous journey and you have to have some reserves left for the end of the show. It is also very emotional music and the orchestra has a very important role in it—Massenet learned that from Wagner. The orchestra isn’t just underscoring the singer. The second aria, ‘Un autre est son époux,’ is high and loud and so fast you don’t have a lot of time to breathe. The secret is to bring it down while at the same time pushing it forward. You have to really sing the role and not overblow it. I believe the reason the opera has become so popular is that the love-triangle situation is so plausible that everyone can relate to it. Werther’s response is extreme, but this is absolutely a present-day situation.”

In person, Richardson projects a sunny confidence; his curly hair is short-cropped, unlike the long, unkempt wig he wears onstage, and his manner is informal. And he points out that years of springboard diving proved a useful preparation for opera singing, a fact he was not entirely aware of at the time.

“I believed that athletics would be my ticket to college, although it turned out that music would be. I took diving very seriously—I competed in the Junior Olympics and made it to the nationals. This is an individual sport and, in competition, the judging is subjective. It takes a lot of heavy concentration on technique and on body awareness—you need to know what your body is doing in space and time. This came in handy when studying voice. If I need to drop my back, I know how to do it. And the scoring is just like what it is in singing; your score depends on someone’s personal opinion of how you did. This is not like a race where the person who comes in first wins. It was good for me to experience that kind of subjective competition when I was a teenager.”

Richardson grew up in Las Cruces, New Mexico; although the population was under 100,000 when Richardson lived there, it was the second-largest city in the state, after Albuquerque. It has a very lively musical community and a real commitment to arts education in the public schools—the prominent pianist Jeremy Denk attended the same high school as Richardson, but a few years earlier. Richardson’s whole family was musical, although he is the only one who is pursuing music professionally. “My mother sang and my father played classical guitar, and I was already singing when I was a boy soprano—‘Silver Bells’ and things like that. After my voice changed I sang baritone for a short time before I found my natural range. I was very lucky because a college music teacher named Donald Morrison came to Las Cruces to retire. He directed a community chorus and asked me if I would sing in it. He couldn’t pay me anything but offered to give me free voice lessons instead, and I said yes. He introduced me to art songs and Lieder, and gave me my first aria, ‘Una furtiva lagrima’ from Donizetti’s L’Elisir d’Amore. After a while he began to encourage me to go to music school, and he even suggested that I give a senior recital. I didn’t quite know what that meant, but I said OK. I sang my aria, a song by Donaudy, and songs by Brahms, Fauré and Samuel Barber. I didn’t know that not every teenager did things like this!”

Richardson sang auditions for colleges and chose the University of Colorado in Boulder. “In my junior year I sang Albert Herring in Britten’s opera, my beginning with a composer who has been very important to me. I also did Flute in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, which is a wonderful part, and Ramiro in Rossini’s Cenerentola.” To this day he remains in close contact with friends and faculty in Boulder. “It is a very strong pedagogy school; my mentors let me grow and helped me develop a healthy technique in my formative years. And I became a sponge absorbing interesting musical challenges.”

He then moved on to the Manhattan School of Music and summer programs at the Central City Opera in Colorado and the Santa Fe Opera; in Santa Fe he made his professional debut in Osvaldo Golijov’s Ainadamar—and his first appearance as a flamenco singer. He arrived as a fellow at the Tanglewood Music Center in 2008 and 2009—an experience that drew him into the orbit of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. At Tanglewood he appeared in Weill’s Mahagonny and in Stravinsky’s Pulcinella, which he sung under the direction of Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos. Since then he has appeared in Beethoven’s Choral Fantasy, Strauss’s Salome, and in Szymanowski’s King Roger, in which he sang a small role and understudied the crucial part of Edrisi.

He has had additional Boston connections, appearing twice with Boston Midsummer Opera, singing lead parts in Donzetti’s Don Pasquale and Nicolai’s The Merry Wives of Windsor, and both in Boston and at Tanglewood leaving a vivid impression as Tom in John Harbison’s The Great Gatsby.

Meanwhile he has been building up a wide range of tenor roles, large and small, in almost two dozen operas of many periods and styles, from Mozart (Tamino in The Magic Flute comes next) through Louis Andriessen. In Toledo he sang Scaramuccio in Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos with Boston-area soprano Barbara Quintiliani in the title role. Cavaradossi in Tosca is about the heaviest role Richardson has tackled so far, although he will sing the title role in Britten’s Peter Grimes this summer. He was on the Metropolitan Opera roster this season to cover the demanding role of Alwa in Berg’s Lulu—a testimony to the security of his musicianship; next season he is scheduled to sing the young shepherd in Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. His most publicized appearance to date was in the first production of Franco Faccio’s neglected opera, Amleto [Hamlet], since 1871—Richardson took the title role.

“I have no plans to sing Otello or Lohengrin or Siegfried,” Richardson says with a chuckle. He’s about to head off to watch a rehearsal of Werther with the understudies; he’s a good colleague. As he heads for the door, he unwraps a piece of butterscotch candy and pops it into his mouth. Werther’s, of course.

Richard Dyer is a distinguished writer and lecturer. He wrote about music for The Boston Globe for more than 30 years, serving as chief music critic for most of that time. He has twice won the Deems Taylor/ASCAP Award for Distinguished Music Criticism.

Why do Singers Wish Each Other Toi, Toi, Toi?

Elaine Alvarez in BLO's 2015 production of Kátya Kabanová.
Photo by Eric Antoniou.

Opera lovers may be familiar with the phrase, toi, toi, toi, uttered among singers before the house lights fade and the conductor lifts the baton. Pronounced TOY (rather than TO-WAH like the French word for you), the mystique of this tradition of well-wishing is woven tightly into the superstitious history of the performing arts and the multicultural mélange of opera. So, what does toi, toi, toi mean, and where did it come from?

Working in the theater is one of the most superstitious professions, said to be second only to horse racing. This is undoubtedly in part because there is a long history of backstage crews being made up of sailors on leave, navy or otherwise. Sailors brought with them their own traditions and superstitions that, when brought into the theater, stuck. For example, to whistle on deck of a ship is considered bad luck, and so it is also bad luck to whistle onstage or backstage in a theater. Among the many things it is unlucky to do in a theater, one of the worst is to wish a performer good luck.

Toi, toi, toi is an onomatopoetic imitation of the sound of spitting, done to ward of a hex or evil spirits. It is always uttered three times, and sometimes accompanied by pantomimed spitting over someone’s shoulder while in an embrace. It comes from Yiddish, Hebrew, and Old German traditions where saliva was believed to have demon-banishing powers. Some even say it is a shortened version of the German word teufel, meaning “devil,” thus uttering his name to ward him off. It is a common good luck sentiment to wish someone in Germany regardless of the context. How this became specifically associated with opera remains a mystery, but in the superstitious theater, warding off evil spirits can only be helpful!

Alternatively, you may have heard opera singers wish each other in bocca al lupo, Italian for “in the mouth of the wolf.” The traditional reply is crepi il lupo, or simply crepi, meaning “may the wolf die.” It is an Italian idiomatic expression that refers to any challenging scenario, likening it to being caught between the jaws of a wild beast. Perhaps this is similar to the circus trick of putting one’s head in the mouth of a lion or even a biblical reference to Daniel in the lion’s den. Although it is also unclear how this saying became associated with opera, it is clear that Italian theater and music traditions have had a tremendous influence on the art form.

The most common and well-known (at least in America!) expression of good luck in the theater is “break a leg.” There are many anecdotes and theories as to how this tradition began, yet the sentiment remains the same. Similarly, at the ballet, and later extended to all dance forms, dancers wish each other merde in French. Again, there are many theories about how this tradition began, but this one is my favorite: Since wealthy patrons used to arrive by horse-drawn carriage, the more horse droppings out in front of the theater, the more paying spectators were inside!

So next time you are in the Theatre District and happen to run into a performer before a show begins, tell opera singers, “Toi, toi, toi!” or “In bocca al lupo.” Exclaim “Merde!” to a dancer, and when in doubt, “Break a leg!” will always work. Above all, honor the long-standing and often strange tradition in theater by avoiding the words “good luck” before the curtain opens; if not you may risk unintentionally wishing the opposite!

Want to read more? Check out these online articles!

• Houston Culture Map
• NPR: Trade Lingo
• Forward
• Seattle Opera Blog

- Rebecca Ann S. Kirk, Manager of Education Programs

In the Penal Colony: A Sneak Peek!

Check out this special SNEAK PEEK from Monday evening's Dress Rehearsal for In the Penal Colony! This Season's Opera Annex production, staged in the Cyclorama at the Boston Center for the Arts, is pitch-black fable about crime … and a very unusual punishment.

IN THE PENAL COLONY
November 11–15 | 2015
The Cyclorama at the Boston Center for the Arts
BLO.ORG

Boston Lyric Opera’s new “Opera Annex” production of Philip Glass’s dystopian In the Penal Colony, based on the Franz Kafka short story, has transformed the historic Cyclorama at the Boston Center for the Arts into a terrifying torture machine at the heart of the drama. Pictured (l.r.) are David McFerrin as The Officer and Neal Ferreira as The Visitor. Photo: T. Charles Erickson.

Neal Ferreira as The Visitor faces the terrifying presence of The Officer. Photo: T. Charles Erickson.

David McFerrin as The Officer threatens Yury Yanowsky as the Man.
Photo: T. Charles Erickson.

Yury Yanowsky as the Man, Neal Ferreira as The Visitor, and David McFerrin as The Officer.
Photo: T. Charles Erickson.

Kelly and Jesus in a New Bohème: An Interview by Richard Dyer

In Puccini’s La Bohème, the poet Rodolfo meets the delightful seamstress Mimì on a freezing Christmas Eve in 1830, and it is love at first sight.

In 2003, a young tenor, Jesus Garcia, met with a young soprano, Kelly Kaduce, to rehearse La Bohème. Paradoxically they haven’t ever sung the opera together until now, a dozen years later. Boston Lyric Opera has engaged the charismatic pair to appear in a new production, now playing at the Shubert Theatre through October 11.

Back in 2003, Kaduce was not long out of her graduate program in Boston University’s Opera Institute; Garcia had completed his studies at the Academy of Vocal Arts in Philadelphia—and he was rounding off his run on Broadway in one of the most famous and controversial contemporary productions of La Bohème.

In 1990, Baz Luhrmann, not yet a famed film director, had directed a low-budget production of La Bohème for Opera Australia with a young and appealing cast he trained to avoid every cliché of operatic acting; he was a bushy-haired 28-year-old at the time, not much older than the singers or the characters they portrayed. The production, set in 1957 (“bring your own leather jacket”), proved a tremendous hit, and two years later it was taped for television and consequently broadcast around the world. It was one of the first operatic productions to be released on DVD, where it became an immediate best-seller.

By 2002, Luhrmann, now with the clout of popular films like Strictly Ballroom, Romeo + Juliet, and Moulin Rouge behind him, decided to adapt his La Bohème for Broadway. It was no longer a low-budget affair, and Rodolfo and Mimì were triple-cast because no one could possibly sing those roles eight times a week. The show was nominated for seven Tony Awards and the entire cast(s) won a special ensemble Tony Award. This version ran for 224 performances, which may have been disappointing by Broadway standards; still, it had taken the Metropolitan Opera 25 years after its first Bohème to reach that total.

One of the rotating Broadway Rodolfos was Jesus Garcia, then in his mid-20s; all the singers from the alternating casts appear on the “original cast” CD, where Garcia sings Rodolfo in the fourth act. The singers received a lot of criticism because many of them were simply too young to be performing their roles on such a demanding schedule; the prognosis for continued vocal health was not good. Garcia says he dropped out of the production before it closed because after 45 or so performances, because his voice told him to. “The color of my voice then was right for the role and the show was miked which made it easier. There was also a reduced orchestra. But the emotions were so intense that they took their toll, and my voice was tired.” But as he was leaving, he did help coach Kaduce through the staging, as the soprano had been hired to sing Mimì for a run in Los Angeles after the show closed in New York.

Kaduce had already sung Mimì, and she has continued to sing it ever since the Los Angeles performances; Garcia has also sung his share of Rodolfos, more than 120 so far. In some respects both their careers were jump-started—or hurtled ahead—by Luhrmann’s production. They are two of the brighter stars to have emerged from Luhrmann’s Bohème—among the others are the soprano Ekaterina Solovyeva, now a leading artist at the Kirov Opera in St. Petersburg, and the versatile American baritone Daniel Okulitch. Incidentally, the “swing” who sang in the chorus and was prepared to go on in most of the male roles was the tenor Joseph Kaiser, now a leading international artist, who will sing the title role in Boston Lyric Opera’s production of Massenet’s Werther in March 2016. Garcia’s two colleagues as Rodolfo, on the other hand, have taken alternative routes—Alfie Boe is now a musical theater star, renowned for his appearances in "Les Miz" and David Miller is a member of the popera group Il Divo.

Since Luhrmann, however, the careers of Garcia and Kaduce have diverged—Garcia is currently more active in Europe than in America, and Kaduce has developed into a reigning diva of regional opera in this country, a true successor to the magnificent Sheri Greenawald from the generation before her. This Bohème marks Kaduce’s third engagement with Boston Lyric Opera, where she has previously appeared in the title roles of Massenet’s Thaïs and Puccini’s Madama Butterfly.

Dyer, Kaduce, and Garcia (left to right) at the Boston Center for the Arts.

In a recent conversation before a rehearsal in the Boston Center for the Arts, Kaduce and Garcia sat at a long production table midway back in the auditorium—on the stage was a large raked platform, but there was no scenery on it yet; off to the side, a poster of Che Guevara stood on a stick in a large plastic barrel, ready to march again. The singers were dressed for work, Garcia in jeans and a t-shirt, Kaduce in a long blouse over stretch pants. They seemed happy to be reunited with each other and with La Bohème, and both were excited by director Rosetta Cucchi’s production concept: Rodolfo and Mimì meet on a freezing Christmas Eve as squatters during the student riots in Paris in 1968.

(Cucchi is an interesting figure who began her career as a concert pianist after studies with two great artists, Sergio Fiorentino and Jörg Demus. Then, a few years ago, she abandoned the keyboard for the clipboard and has since staged operatic productions in more than a dozen Italian cities as well as in Switzerland, Germany and Ireland; this production marks her American debut.)

Both the tenor and soprano have appeared in versions of La Bohème which have been set in various historical periods—the story of young lovers, idealistic and doomed, is universal. They say they sometimes enjoy transposing periods because it enables them to make a fresh start on familiar material, but they do not particularly enjoy the process when the director has “no focus” and they find themselves doing the same old thing, except with different costumes, shoes, and hair. On the other hand, they agree that Cucchi is exceptional. “Everything has been worked out in detail—nothing has been left unattended to or unexplained,” Kaduce says. “Rosetta has taken the text seriously, and everything in the production makes sense. There is no inn at the city gates in the third act for example, and both the words and the surtitles have been changed in a few places.”

Garcia grew up in League City, Texas, near Houston; his ancestry is Aztec, Mexican, Italian, French and Spanish. He is a very dashing young man who probably hasn’t gained an ounce since his Broadway days. He has been performing since he was a child in daycare. “I made my debut as Baby Bear in a little show about Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I also put together a show about Amelia Bedelia, got my friends together, cast it, and directed it. I had a solo as Alfie the Elf, and sang in choirs as an alto until I was in sixth grade and became a soprano, but before long my voice changed, which was a good thing because I felt so much peer pressure to sing as a tenor. I would say that choirs in school and church were the reason I sang classically and took voice lessons. I was extremely offended by people who I thought didn't know how to sing, but when I started to take lessons my teacher said I didn't know how to sing! I did begin to learn—records of Luciano Pavarotti made me want to know how—and then I won a scholarship to attend the University of North Texas in Denton. I sang Pinkerton in Madama Butterfly in English there and spent summers at the Seagle Music Colony in the Adirondacks. Then I wound up at the Academy of Vocal Arts in Philadelphia and the rest is history.”

After Broadway's La Bohème, Garcia was a prize winner in Plácido Domingo’s Operalia Competition and developed a good career on the American regional opera circuit as well as engagements in South America and Europe. But by 2010, Garcia decided to interrupt his operatic activities career to pursue an equally strong interest in songwriting and in popular music. “I did continue sing a few operatic engagements, but I had started writing poetry in 1999 and composing music in 2001. My creative juices were stirred up by working with Baz Luhrmann—rehearsing for a show on Broadway, and watching his creative process, learning to become an actor, creating commercials, storyboarding, and watching how everything come together. I wanted to become a creator but it just wasn’t possible to do that on a part-time basis any more than it was possible to relax the vigilance and discipline that being an opera singer requires. So finally I took three years off. By now I’ve written about 35 songs, including 10 for an album I call ‘Manifest Destiny.’ In the songs I address some of my personal battles, religion vs. spirituality, and confront such other issues as stereotypes and prejudices. So the songs for the album move from a dark place into a holy and enlightened one. I would describe my music as avant-garde soul/rock and pop, or modern alternative rock, and my major influences were probably Bjork and Radiohead. I’ve done a lot of work on writing and recording the arrangements and orchestrations I’ve made for the album, but haven’t done my own vocals yet—I use a completely different voice and technique for popular music, so now I won’t for a while, because I have come back to opera full-time. Through this process I developed a deep desire to sing in opera again. Because I had been absent from the American scene for a while, my agent convinced me it would be better to start all over again in Europe where there was the potential for full-time work.”

A year ago Garcia accepted an extended contract in Karlsruhe, Germany, where this season he sings four roles, including Rodolfo; he has also sung in other German cities, in Luxembourg, and in Finland, concentrating mostly on Italian bel canto roles and French operas. He seems poised for another career breakthrough, and already he is singing in America again. “I am performing roles that are appropriate for my voice, as it is now, and that primarily means bel canto. I have used this time in Europe to get back into the zone vocally, and I record and analyze every single one of my performances.”

Kaduce has had little trouble with finding full-time work here because she boasts such a winning combination of attributes and abilities—a versatile and attractive voice; secure technique and musicianship; acting chops; and personal glamor—she looks like a golden-age Hollywood star even in rehearsal clothes and without makeup.

She was born in Winnebago, Wisconsin, and sang her first solo in church at the age of four: the spiritual “This Little Light of Mine.” She continued to sing in church—her mother was the organist—and always had the support of her parents and teachers, all of whom believed she “had something.” She attended St. Olaf College, then came to Boston University, where she studied with Penelope Bitzas. In 1999 she won the Metropolitan Opera National Council New England Regional Auditions. Always interested in musical theater, she appeared in shows in high school and later spent two summers with the College Light Opera Company in Falmouth where she appeared in Gilbert & Sullivan; Anything Goes (she learned to tap dance for this); Kiss Me, Kate; and Into the Woods. In addition to opera at BU she sang in Britten’s War Requiem in Symphony Hall and made early appearances with Opera Aperta (now Boston Midsummer Opera)—with them, she appeared in a program of staged scenes from Mozart (“Mozart in Love”) alongside the baritone Lee Gregory, who became her husband. They now have a four-year-old son, Colin, named after the eminent late stage director Colin Graham, who was a favorite colleague. As it happens, they now make their home in Houston, not far from where Jesus Garcia grew up.

(Asked about his private life, Garcia grins and says only, “I am in a relationship.”)

Kaduce considers her formal professional debut to be La Bohème with Opera Delaware in 2000. Since then she has appeared in a large number of leading roles in repertory operas—everything from Pamina in The Magic Flute and Gretel in Hansel and Gretel to Salome, from Donna Anna and Donna Elvira in Don Giovanni to Madama Butterfly, from Violetta in La Traviata to Manon Lescaut and her next new role, Tosca. Her French roles include Micaëla in Carmen, Marguerite in Faust, and Juliette in Roméo et Juliette, in addition to Thaïs. Some of her roles she has sung both in English and in the original language, often Italian, and she considers this to have been an especially valuable experience. “When I sang Butterfly in English, I found myself acting more internally, and singing in my own language enabled to accentuate the words with more natural nuance, and with more feeling, and this was an experience I could then carry over into singing the role in Italian.” She sang at the late lamented New York City Opera, with the Minnesota Opera in her native state, and with a wide range of other American companies, establishing close ties both with the Opera Theatre of St. Louis Opera and the Santa Fe Opera; in one season she had more than 50 performances of 17 roles in 19 cities, one of which was in Australia!

Less predictable, perhaps, is the way she has become a go-to soprano for contemporary operas. She has sung in Nixon in China (John Adams), Jane Eyre (Michael Berkeley), Anna Karenina (David Carlson), Silent Night (Kevin Puts), Margaret Garner (Richard Danielpour), Tea (Tan Dun), The Shining (Paul Moravec), Madame Mao (Bright Sheng), The Passenger (Mieczyslaw Weinberg), The Grapes of Wrath (Ricky Ian Gordon), and Wuthering Heights (Bernard Herrmann). She has also sung older American classics like Blitzstein’s Regina and Floyd’s Susannah.

She considers performing operas like these a “fantastic experience through which I have acquired a whole new set of skills. Now when anyone sends me a new score, I go through it at the piano to see if I have all the pitches. If I do, and I'm free, my response is ‘I'll be there!’ I have a good ear and can pick things up quickly, and I especially love new work because I can go in with no preconceived notions about how I am expected to sound. And acting-wise, the experience is always fresh.” She is especially fond of Carlson’s Anna Karenina opera, which proved a huge personal triumph for her both in St. Louis and in Florida. “But no one has picked it up since. I loved it, and the music is very Straussian.”

She has dipped her toe into Wagner now, as a Valkyrie in Wagner’s Ring Cycle in Houston (she claims it was “fun” to be suspended from a crane 15 feet high above the stage), but the direction she is most interested in now is Czech opera. “I have sung Dvorak’s Rusalka a few times now, and now I really want to sing those great Janáček roles, particularly Jenůfa.” Garcia has his own dream roles: the Duke in Rigoletto, Edgardo in Lucia di Lammermoor, Nemorino in L'Elisir d'Amore, and now that he has been working so much in Germany, he would like to sing Tamino in The Magic Flute in the original language. “I won't be singing Calaf in Turandot or Dick Johnson in La Fanciulla del West anytime soon,” he says with a laugh.

For the moment, La Bohème is all-absorbing for the two of them again. “I don't sing Bohème the way I did a dozen years ago,” Garcia says. “I have undone my old way of doing things and worked out the kinks and the old habits, a process that was both challenging and rewarding. The opera is new to me again, and the role is now finally an appropriate one for me. My voice is still on the lighter side for Bohème but I feel lots better about it.”

“I always love the chance to return to a role I haven’t performed in a while,” Kaduce says. “It is never a question of working up what I did the last time around. The challenge is to approach an old role in a new way, both musically and dramatically, to bring it to the place where I am now.”

RICHARD DYER is a distinguished writer and lecturer. He wrote about music for The Boston Globe for over 30 years, serving as chief music critic for most of that time. He has twice won the Deems Taylor/ASCAP Award for Distinguished Music Criticism.

Reflections on the Opera America conference

Every year, opera companies from throughout North America get together for a conference and discuss strategies in development, new marketing ideas, technical production discoveries, programming ventures, etc. This year's host city was beautiful Vancouver, Canada.

I assisted a few sessions, here is a behind-the-scenes look at some of them:

Electronic Media Forum: Where is Opera headed now that we have media as a means of communication? We explored twitter and facebook as a marketing tool, some companies are creating short videos of behind-the-scenes (anything from following the day in the life of a singer, to how a set is built, to an homage to their unsung heroes), how blogging is a great way to connect directly with your audience, recording a world premiere, livestreaming a performance online, radio and television broadcasts, having your audience tweet live during a final dress performance etc.  In this day and age of communication, the thirst for audiences to get more information on the process has broadened and it’s very exciting to see how we can interact more with our patrons.

Atmospherics Onstage: This session was very interesting because we are always seeking to have more haze or fog onstage. Haze is wonderful for lighting effects; it helps create beautiful dramatic shafts of light. What is tricky in opera, as opposed to theatre, we have to worry about our singers' voices, the orchestra, visibility of monitors- how can we not hinder their performance, etc? The consensus is mostly to use water based machines--unfortunately not all of them give us that great of an effect as glycol based machines.

As the Seasons Turn: Non-traditional Opera on the Mainstage: This is always a hot topic at the conference. Some companies are having difficulty getting their audience excited about new music or new productions. Some companies do shows in parking lots, swimming pools, outdoors tents. However, if you put out a quality product, then the audience has a better chance to follow you and take artistic risks with you. I have to say, I was very proud to be sitting in the conference room as a member of BLO. We have been adventurous, concept wise, while being respectful musically and I think the pay off has been successful. Our Annex series (producing one opera each Season in a non-theatrical venue) is a wonderful opportunity to see a show within a different architectural context and many companies are hoping to have something similar in a few years.

I also visited the Queen Elizabeth theatre which underwent some major renovations over the past few years to sound proof it and make it more comfortable for the audience. I attended the keynote address, numerous mingling activities, and the Robert L.B. Tobin Director-Designer Showcase (they have interesting projects from the next generation opera makers). I heard about The Magic Flute Vancouver Opera produced with a new book and it made me look forward even more to our upcoming production. Our creative team has come up with a brilliant context and it will give our audience a new take on the story.

My favorite, year after year, remains the NEW WORKS SAMPLER. Over the evening you get to hear all kinds of new works either in development phase or recently performed. I find it fascinating because it’s a great way to get a pulse as to where opera in America is. I am incredibly excited by some of the new materials  I got to hear.

Julia Noulin-Merat
BLO Associate Producer 

The Story Behind Senta in The Flying Dutchman

Senta and her Father – The “Real” Story behind the Story

R. Lawrence St. Clair, MD

The BLO’s exciting new production of The Flying Dutchman is not your grandmother’s Dutchman. Michael Cavanagh, the director, has a bold, new approach to this opera. He wants us to look deeper into Senta and Daland’s (Donald in Wagner’s original) minds. Why is Senta so fixated on the Dutchman? Why does she sacrifice her life to save him? Why does Donald so quickly sell his daughter to a stranger?

The creative team of Michael Cavanagh and John Conklin teamed up with three psychotherapists (Carol Rubin, PhD, Ira Lable, MD, and myself) to construct a compelling saga for Senta and Donald’s lives that would lead to the events in the opera itself. Our version of Senta’s story is meant to stimulate the audience to have their own ideas about Senta and Donald as realistic people. Michael hopes that everyone leaves the theater with their own explanation.

We started with Michael’s suggestion that the Dutchman is Senta and Donald’s shared fantasy, that the events in the opera are their shared delusion. The concept of the Dutchman figure as a fantasy or dream is not new and has been presented in other productions, notably at Bayreuth in 1985.  We wanted a more complete and plausible story. So what happened to them that was so traumatic?

Our explanation starts when Senta’s mother commits suicide when Senta is seven. Donald becomes so stricken with grief that he is completely unresponsive to his young daughter. Thus Senta grows up in an emotionally barren environment and copes by retreating into her own fantasy world. Donald, in his grief, spends all his time at sea. He returns when Senta is 14. She doesn’t really recognize or trust her father. This first reunion is particularly painful for both of them, as Donald is angered by his daughter’s rejection.

Donald retreats from reality into the Dutchman myth and, having lost his wife, he becomes the Dutchman, wandering the seas looking for love from a perfect angel to bring him back to life. For Senta, the Dutchman is the more noble side of her depressed father. Her love will end his curse. By jumping to join the Dutchman, she is both rescuing her father and symbolically joining her mother.

This production has many wonderful details. The sets, the video projections, the images, and the costumes all reflect Senta’s inner world. We hope you leave the performance feeling that you know Senta, Donald and the Dutchman a bit better.

Georgia Harper, playing Senta at age 7,

on The Flying Dutchman rehearsals, playing tragedy, and the joy of a perfectly-fitted costume

On April 26, BLO opens the US Premiere of the 1841 critical edition of The Flying Dutchman in honor of Wagner’s bicentennial.  In a new production, BLO presents the opera through the eyes of Senta, a yearning heroine desperate to escape her restricting world.  We see her throughout the opera at ages 7, 14, and 21.  For a look at the rehearsal process through the eyes of Senta, BLO interviewed Georgia Harper, the young performer playing the supernumerary role of Senta at age 7.

BLO: Before being cast in The Flying Dutchman had you seen or listened to an opera before? If so, which one? 

Georgia:  Before The Flying Dutchman, I had not been exposed to opera. I had never listened to it…mostly because I couldn’t understand the true meaning of what the singers were singing.

Do you like listening to the opera?  What do you like or not like about it? 

Because I’m fairly new to this genre, I’m not really sure yet how I feel about it. It’s frustrating that so many operas seem to be in other languages. I do like how well-trained opera singers are—their voices have amazing range. No auto-tune, it’s all real.

What kind of music do you like to listen to on your own? Do you take music, dance, or acting classes at school?

I really enjoy listening to show tunes, though I do like pop music too. I take voice lessons every week, and I am trying to find some “beginners” dance classes (I’m not the best dancer). At my school, I take drama classes and I am joining the chorus.

What does your character do in the opera?  What kind of a person is she?

Young Senta is a 7 year-old girl, who is traumatized by her mother’s death. She is lonely because her father has shut her out of his life. She is imaginative and very artistic. In the very beginning of the opera, she finds her mother’s dead body and that’s where the madness truly begins. This is the first time I’ve gotten to act out a really tragic, sad story. My favorite part in the show is when I put my hands in my mother’s blood (since I’m  seven, I am still a bit confused as to  what the blood is).

Do you think you would be friends with Senta in real life?

Though I think Young Senta lives a very troubled life, she seems like a very imaginative kid. I think we could have fun doing something creative, like art, or watch a movie together.

What do you do during the rehearsals? 

In rehearsals, we stage the scenes. I’ve had the pleasure to work with people as fantastic as the directors [Michael Cavanagh and Music Director, David Angus] and also Olivia Duvall (Teen Senta) and Allison Oakes (Singing Senta). Also we brainstorm on how to make this seem as realistic as possible. We try to make the movements cohesive and smooth as Senta gets older.

What is your favorite part of being part of this production?

One of my favorite parts of the production is the costumes and the people. Everyone is so nice and warm, and it makes it easier to be the youngest one in the production. I have never been in a show where I get to wear such a professional and perfectly fitted costume. In my previous productions, I’m almost always wearing pants and now I get to try wearing a full-length skirt.

How did you get the part of Senta?  What was the audition process like?

I heard about the auditions from my singing teacher, Dana Schnitzer. She’s a singer in the show. I was a nervous wreck before the audition. But when I walked into the door and met the directors I started to relax. They asked me a few questions about my resume and the shows I’ve done. We then worked on some small scenes that Young Senta performs in the show. I had heard about this role before hand and I really tried to show a girl living a very sad life. A few days later, my mom got the call that I got the part. When I got home from school I heard the good news. I was OVERJOYED!

How do you get ready to play Senta?  Have you read more about the story of The Flying Dutchman?

I get ready to play Young Senta by trying to channel her thoughts and experiences. I think of some sad times in my life and I try to bring it to the scene. I have read some more things about The Flying Dutchman, such as a synopsis and some poems. Also, people in the show have been great about explaining parts I’m confused about or don’t understand.

What are you going to do after The Flying Dutchman?

After the opera, I will audition for more shows at school and in community theater, and I will continue to do more productions. I would love to find more professional companies like BLO since I have learned so much and had such a fantastic experience, and I cant wait to do more.

 Olivia Dundon-Duvall, playing Senta at age 14,

on The Flying Dutchman rehearsals, falling in love with opera, and the excitement of landing a role

On April 26, BLO opens the US Premiere of the 1841 critical edition of The Flying Dutchman in honor of Wagner’s bicentennial.  In a new production, BLO presents the opera through the eyes of Senta, a yearning heroine desperate to escape her restricting world.  We see her throughout the opera at ages 7, 14, and 21.  For a look at the rehearsal process through the eyes of Senta, BLO interviewed Olivia Dundon-Duvall, the young performer playing the supernumerary role of Senta at age 14.

BLO: Before being cast in The Flying Dutchman had you seen or listened to an opera before? If so, which one? 

Olivia: No. The Flying Dutchman is my first exposure to opera music.

Do you like listening to the opera?  What do you like or not like about it?

Yes!! I love to hear the passion behind the words, even if they are in a different language. Through The Flying Dutchman, I’ve discovered how moving and beautiful opera music can be. I love it!

What kind of music do you like to listen to on your own? Do you take music, dance, or acting classes at school?

I’ve recently gotten really into indie pop and alternative music. My favorites right now are Regina Spector, Ingrid Michaelson, and Sufjan Stevens. I also like listening to Broadway musicals! At school, I sing in chorus and take drama class.

What does your character do in the opera?  What kind of a person is she?

I play Senta at age 14. The relationship between my character and her father at this age is especially important. Their relationship has really ruined her life, because he is so distant after her mother’s suicide. My character is shown resorting to activities like writing and praying. I’ve interpreted Senta at 14 as being a confused and internally angry teenager who has difficulty trusting people.

Do you think you would be friends with Senta in real life?

I don’t think Senta would make a very good friend at all. She hasn’t gotten her own life figured out at all and has so many emotions and struggles to deal with. Although, I do think Senta could use a friend. She’s focused all of her pain internally, without anybody to help her through her many struggles.

What do you do during the rehearsals? 

Rehearsals are always really fun! In the beginning, Mr. Cavanagh introduced Georgia and me to our roles and helped us “become one person” with Allison (she plays the oldest Senta). We focused a lot on having similar reactions to situations, which I thought was really fun to develop with them. Then, we met everybody else in the cast and were integrated into our scenes. We just had the final room run-through and now we are moving into the theater!

What is your favorite part of being part of this production?

Aside from getting to work on stage with really talented performers, I am enjoying getting to know people off-stage as well. I’ve especially bonded with Georgia, who plays Young Senta. It’s so fun getting to know her (we are the only kids in the cast) and everybody else involved in the production. I love seeing how everybody’s parts on-stage and off-stage come together to produce the show! When we move into the theatre, I am very excited to perform on the set.

How did you get the part of Senta?  What was the audition process like?

I heard about the audition through the Boston Children’s Chorus, which I have been a part of for the past 4 years. I had no idea what to expect, but I went on a whim and signed up for an audition. At the audition, I was SO nervous. I did two acting exercises with the assistant director, Peter, playing another role. It ended up being kind of fun! After that, I worried about my audition for the whole weekend, which felt like a year! On Monday, Peter called and told me that they wanted me to play the role. It happened, to be April Fool’s Day, so I was a bit skeptical at first...but I was so excited to get the role! I was so excited that I ran around my house screaming and jumping up and down for a while..I am so glad I decided to audition!!

How do you get ready to play Senta?  Have you read more about the story of The Flying Dutchman?

I did a little research on The Flying Dutchman and the music before we started rehearsing. I listen to the music from the opera whenever I can (like when I’m doing homework!) so I can get into my head. I also like watching Allison and Georgia playing Senta, so that I can make the idea of all of us being the same person more real.

What are you going to do after The Flying Dutchman?

After the opera closes, I am graduating middle school! Also, I am performing in the world premiere of a choral/dance work at the Institute of Contemporary Art called A Boy Called King, composed by Daniel Roumain. Also with the Boston Children’s Chorus, I will be touring to Southeast Asia with about 50 other singers this summer for 2 weeks!