Photo by Dan Rest/Lyric Opera of Chicago

RECOMMENDED

I haven’t done the math, but there have been probably more performances of Puccini’s “Madama Butterfly” at Lyric Opera than any other opera. Most famously, Maria Callas did her only staged performances of the role here at Lyric in the early years of the company. During the Ardis Krainik years, ticket sales of “Butterfly” were so assured that the role became a retreat for haggard divas.

Kudos to Bill Mason for having enough respect for the work to realize that if you are going to do it, at least this time around, do it right. I lost count of how many times we have sat through the Hal Prince production created here in 1982, and even Prince has long ago stopped bothering to stage it, sending Vincent Liotta instead the last three times, all with mediocre singers.

Soprano Patricia Racette has made Butterfly her own in recent years, giving us a preview of what to expect in a concert version at Ravinia two seasons ago where her co-star, tenor Frank Lopardo, was a no-show. Lopardo made it this time around, and the pair managed to bring considerable credibility to the usually far-fetched melodrama. True, Racette’s voice has its problems at this stage of her career, and Butterfly’s entrance was plowed through like a bull in a china shop; as at Ravinia, she wisely chose not to take the high note. But once over the bridge, the opera was all hers and she was able to match every note with drama to spare. And though we have heard more beautiful love duets, what lingers in this production is how much Racette and Lopardo really seem to be feeling for one another as the sliding door slowly ends Act I for their honeymoon.

Once you actually buy that such a deep connection is made between the two, then Pinkerton’s abandonment of Butterfly and her standing by him against her villagers sets up the tragedy of her suicide in a far more profound way. I cannot remember the last Butterfly where I actually shed tears at the end, but things click so well here, it would be a challenge not to do so. Some of the supporting roles are a disappointment (neither Suzuki nor Sharpless could be adequately heard in their duets and both roles were laying too low for the singers) but Sir Andrew Davis does a magnificent job of revealing Puccini’s score in all of its many colors. (Dennis Polkow)

Through January 29, 2009 at Lyric Opera, Wacker Drive at Madison, (312)332-2244.

By Dennis Polkow

Two weeks after a Hyde Park resident became elected the first-ever African-American president, another less significant but still fascinating cultural watershed occurred across town at Lyric Opera: the first-ever performance of George Gershwin’s “Porgy and Bess” in the company’s 54-year history.

We all know its songs, we all love them—indeed, “Summertime” is the single most recognizable operatic aria on the planet—and standards such as “It Ain’t Necessarily So,” “Bess, You is My Woman” and “I Got Plenty O’ Nuttin’,” among others, are all known and loved around the world. Why then, did it take more than half a century—not to mention that the piece was already some 20 years old when Lyric first opened its doors—for “Porgy” to have a hearing at Lyric?

One reason is the enormous expense involved in recruiting and training an entirely new chorus for a single work since the Gershwin estate mandates African-American performers even as choristers, and there are currently only two African-Americans singing in the entire Lyric Opera Chorus. There has long been sensitivity on this issue, especially since—yikes—Al Jolson originally wanted to play Porgy and Gershwin himself seriously considered opera star Lawrence Tibbitt to play the role. Both would have tastelessly done so in blackface, still common practice in 1935. If blacks and whites attended the same theater at all at that time, which was rare, they were often still segregated. And this was a show about black life written by, well, white guys. Having African-Americans portray even the smallest roles in a show where perceived African-American culture is appropriated by persons of privilege becomes a form of affirmative-action art and an apologetic attempt to counteract the charge that “Porgy and Bess” remains a high-class, even if gloriously tune-filled, relic of the minstrel-show era.

A quick perusal of the program makes clear that with the exception of the costume designer, the only African-Americans involved in the production are onstage, not the creative team that actually calls the shots. And looking out at the audience during the first two performances makes clear the real cultural divide here: the performers and the audience are as different as night and day; with rare exceptions, black performing for white. Opera, that most Eurocentric, expensive, elitist—and yes, most white—of all art forms, is as far from Catfish Row as imaginable. Should we be similarly concerned, though, if next month’s production of “Madama Butterfly,” an opera stereotyping Japan written by an Italian, is not portrayed by an all-Japanese cast for Lyric’s mostly white audience?

Another cultural disconnect that is visible from the moment the curtain opens on Lyric’s “Porgy and Bess” is that of north vs. south, including the bizarre decisions to cut the entire introductory barrelhouse piano and chorus “Jasbo Brown Blues” scene-setting and Southern-tinged prologue, to eliminating the goat cart Porgy uses to travel around on along with the central references to it (Porgy drags himself around on a crutch that is broken at one point, but then miraculously reappears in one piece) and to censor any use whatsoever of the “n” word in a libretto drenched in it. This is a production that appears to be conceived by and executed by urban northerners who imagine South Carolina’s black south as looking like a Yankee ghetto, something so much out of “Dead End” that you expect the Bowery Boys to peer out from around a corner. If “the fish are jumpin’” and “the cotton is high,” it must be somewhere in the back alley.

Gershwin had the opportunity to premiere what he himself called a “folk opera” at the Metropolitan Opera, but was shrewd enough to realize that despite the greater legitimacy and the more vast resources of the Met over Broadway (his original full orchestration, which took nine months to complete, was greatly reduced and simplified for Broadway), his piece on “Negro life” would have more performances for a wider audience on the, well, Great White Way. He also became convinced as he began to see that there were indeed “people of color” who could actually sing and perform the roles that this would greatly add to the work’s “authenticity,” and that tradition remains mandated. It is worth noting that if this were not the case, there would be far more performances of the work and yes, profits for the Gershwin estate. Then, as now, the majority of black artists are not opera singers trained to sing in an opera house without amplification and, as such, few can be clearly heard and understood, which was certainly the case at Lyric, one of the world’s largest opera houses and more than three times the size of a typical Broadway theater. If it weren’t for Lyric’s supertitles, which have cleaned up much of Ira Gershwin’s often embarrassing use of pre-World War II Ebonics for better or worse, the audience would be lost without knowing the story.

There are two casts of the three principals for the Lyric production, and one performer, Lester Lynch, alternates between playing the role of Crown and Porgy. Gordon Hawkins, the “A”-cast Porgy, unfortunately, is badly miscast, as he neither looks nor acts the part as written nor is there enough pitch control or technique to sustain the work’s vocal demands. This becomes particularly problematic during the duets with the “A”-cast Bess, Morenike Fadayomi, who out-sings him note for note. The “B” cast, Lynch as Porgy and Lisa Daltirus as Bess, are far more convincing as a couple in terms of drama and music, and though Lynch is a high baritone rather than the bass-baritone needed to get the low and the high notes as written, he does a solid job by and large. Crown also lies low for him, but he makes such a superb brute and bully that he makes it work, as opposed to the “B” Crown, Terry Cook, who sings and plays the part far too wimpily and cannot carry off an admittedly larger Bess to be raped in the brush as Lynch does to chilling effect.

Jermaine Smith’s Sporting Life is a choreographic and devious delight, though hearing him was sometimes a struggle. No problem hearing Jonita Lattimore’s Serena, though, who stops the show cold with her rendition of “My Man’s Gone Now,” which also gives the chorus its most shining, gospel-filled moment.

When it comes to conducting “Porgy and Bess,” John DeMain, the guy who led the spectacular 1976 Houston Grand Opera production that became the complete work’s definitive recording and which went on to play Broadway and tour the world, is the conductor of choice. Though tempos were a bit tentative on opening night, already by the Sunday matinee that introduced the “B” cast, things were picking up.

One thing that becomes abundantly clear in the tardy Lyric Opera premiere of “Porgy and Bess,” which in the end, is an immensely enjoyable experience, warts and all, is that “Porgy and Bess” will continue to be performed in spite of itself, because of Gershwin’s undeniable genius and way with a tune. And with an African-American president-elect continuing to plan a new era across town, perhaps the real progress here is that “Porgy” has become irrelevant enough and safe enough to be able to be performed at Lyric Opera.

“Porgy and Bess” plays through December 19 at the Civic Opera House, Wacker Drive at Madison, (312)332-2244.

RECOMMENDED

“Lulu” is back in town, and as was true of her first unforgettable trip to Lyric Opera twenty-one years ago that ended up ushering in a golden era of regular modern opera performances at the company that lasted into the new millennium, nothing is ever quite the same during or after her visit. The second and final opera of twelve-tone composer Alban Berg, “Lulu” is an opera unlike any other and immediately polarizes audiences into those transfixed and transformed by the experience and those who find it so disturbing and demanding that they cannot make it through even a single performance. One couple up front noisily left twenty minutes in, and across opening night, about a quarter of the audience left at various points along the way. Those who remained all four hours were often in stunned silence at what they were taking in, even at evening’s end, after which frenzied applause and cheers spontaneously broke out. For those concerned about making it through such a potentially draining experience, Lyric is selling $12 sandwich box suppers between acts, sort of “Lulu lunches.”

Like a black widow spider, the femme fatale has her charms, to be sure, and as Lulu—stunningly performed by German soprano Marlis Petersen—seduces those around her, she is a step ahead of her admirers, each of whom sees her as the ultimate sex object of their fantasies, right down to each supplying a different name, style of dress and persona for her. As Lulu reminds a would-be suitor of the fact that she killed his father, and later, as copulation begins on the couch, she asks if this is the same couch where his father bled to death, you have to admire the woman’s brutal honesty (he doesn’t stop, by the way). When she is asked if she has any morals as she considers the fact that she is now rich immediately after her husband dies of a heart attack after catching her with an admirer, “I don’t know,” she soberly sings, and at least as Petersen plays it, she means it. This is a far cry from the steamy Catherine Malfitano portrayal that made her such a Lyric fixture for a time that Malfitano moved here: Petersen plays Lulu as a vacuous, amoral mirror to all the men—and one woman—who obsess over her. That Petersen does this while singing up a storm and seducing the audience right along with all of them is part of what makes her portrayal as alluring as it is unnerving.

Berg died suddenly of blood poisoning after completing only two of the work’s projected three acts, having left a sketch score of his intentions. At first, Berg’s widow tried to have the work completed, but after Zemlinksy, Schoenberg and Webern all turned her down and expressed that the work should remain an unfinished two-act torso, she steadfastly refused to allow a completion. Only after her death did a completion appear—it had been secretly commissioned by Berg’s publisher all along—premiered in 1979 by Pierre Boulez and now commonplace, although there remain detractors. When Lyric first presented “Lulu” in 1987, the third act was only 8 years old and still such a novelty that there was little question of it being performed, although it was tinkered with by a non-musical director on that occasion. Thus, these performances represent the Chicago premiere of the unaltered completed version in its entirety.

The third act does restore much-needed musical symmetry and some incredibly compelling music that would otherwise lay on the cutting-room floor, but from the opening strains of it, it is clear that we are in a jarringly different sound world than the rest of the opera. Berg used orchestration as an essential story-telling device, and the transition from Act II to III is abrupt. Only when Berg’s own innovative orchestration comes in courtesy of his completed “Lulu” Suite, do we experience his “voice” restored to its full power. Additionally, Acts I and II are magnificently telescoped and the character development complete, but Act III feels haphazard by comparison in a way unimaginable had perfectionist Berg lived to see and hear how these pieces would all “fit” together. It would be great to see alternative completion attempts appear such as are now commonplace with Mozart’s unfinished “Requiem,” for instance, especially now that we know that Schoenberg’s hesitation to complete “Lulu” was because of an anti-Semitic remark of a character—now routinely cut—in Berg’s libretto.

But none of this should scare anyone away from this rare and new production, which benefits enormously by the presence of German baritone Wolfgang Schöne in the dual role of Dr. Schön and Jack the Ripper and by the transparent conducting of Sir Andrew Davis, who knows this complex score inside and out, sometimes literally, as there are sections that are actually written to be played in reverse. Scottish director Paul Curran always allows the music to determine the action (or when appropriate, the lack of action) and designer Kevin Knight goes for a sumptuous but somewhat surreal world—though opting for all-out Expressionism complete with deep, blue shadows in the disturbing climax—always straddling imagination and reality. (Dennis Polkow)

“Lulu” plays at the Civic Opera House, Wacker Drive at Madison, through November 30, (312)332-2244.

Okay, no one is going to mistake “The Pearl Fishers” for “Carmen,” that’s for sure. “Carmen” is Bizet’s masterpiece, and one of the greatest and most beloved operas of all time. But in a short career tragically cut down in its prime where we have dozens of ideas for projected operas but only a small output of completed operas available to understand how Bizet evolved, experiencing “The Pearl Fishers,” the opera Bizet wrote before “Carmen,” can be immensely illuminating.

The music itself might be well be labeled “Faust lite,” as the influence of Gounod, Bizet’s teacher, particularly on the recitative and choral passages, is embarrassingly obvious. But like Gounod, Bizet knows how to write and milk a pretty tune, and the work’s most famous aria is a crowd-pleaser that is heard throughout the entire three acts. The love triangle that makes up the opera’s static plot could well be called “Norma lite,” as it is a watered-down reworking of that same idea from that opera. There are also touches of Verdi and even some Wagnerian leitmotivs.

What is needed to give the work its due, such as it is, are three technically precise singers who can not only sing their hearts out emotionally but who are also able to blend well together for the work’s carefully crafted duets, trios and ensembles. Unfortunately, this Lyric Opera revival of its production from a decade ago is seldom able to deliver on either count. The famous Act I “friendship” duet is a piece so popular that it was once not uncommon for audience members to duck out after the first act. Here, at least on opening night, the duet was squandered by baritone Nathan Gunn as Zurga and Eric Cutler as Nadir, as the baritone line was inaudible next to the straining, over-loud tenor line; the usual show-stopping raucous reaction was substituted for polite applause of mere recognition. Although the casting of soprano and former Ryan Center alumna Nicole Cabell as priestess Lelia is serviceable, Cabell does not have the floating coloratura that Maureen O’Flynn had the last time around, essential for revealing this role at its best.

This staging of the work, which was hopelessly confused the last time around, has been given a facelift with more colorful sets that make for more visual appeal, but unfortunately, the design team never bothered to read the libretto: the story concerns a Hindu priestess yet the scenery portrays Theravada Buddhism, which has no gods, a central plot device in the story. (Dennis Polkow)

At Civic Opera House, 20 North Wacker Drive at Madison, $39-$187, through November 4.

RECOMMENDED

In recent seasons, the Lyric Opera modus operandi has been to take an operatic warhorse, usually Italian, and open and close the season with it but with different and often mediocre casts to trade primarily on the marquee value of the work itself. Kudos to Lyric for setting aside that tired formula and for opening the 2008-9 season with a spectacular production of Masenet’s “Manon” that forms the basis of one of the most memorable Lyric openings in years.

Other than “Carmen” and “Faust,” French opera is rare at Lyric and when it is presented, key segments and ballets are often cut and there is little that is, well, French. How luxurious then, to bring in French soprano Natalie Dessay to sing her signature role at the vocal height of her career, giving us the “Manon” of a lifetime complete with all of the grand French trimmings. Unlike Renée Fleming, who sang a single act of this role to open the Metropolitan Opera season last week and who exudes confidence and glamour at every turn, Dessay not only has the advantage of having French as her native language and a truly French color to her voice, but she is able to make us believe in the opera’s opening act that she is indeed a naïve, 16-year old girl who is leaving home for the first time. We see the wonder of the world through her eyes, and even Dessay’s vocal colorizations match what her character is feeling. As she falls in love and becomes more world weary, Dessay is able to act and sing that difference. And the coloratura ornaments and trills are exquisite at every turn.

This could well have been Dessay’s show exclusively and no one would complain, but German tenor Jonas Kaufmann makes a tender partner for her, matching her delicacy and fragility as an actor as well as her vocal shadings. Seldom has music and drama been both so well served. How rare and wonderful to experience two performers who appear to fall in love and be able to sustain that illusion all while singing their hearts out. No less significant is the work of French conductor Emmanuel Villaume, who is able to make the Lyric Opera Orchestra play with the delicacy, feeling and timbre of a French orchestra, but with greater precision and accuracy. Miss this extraordinary production at your own peril. (Dennis Polkow)

At Lyric Opera, Wacker Drive at Madison, (312)332-2244, through October 31.

RECOMMENDED

The forerunner of crowd-pleasing, supernatural-themed productions heavy on stagecraft and spectacle such as “Wicked,” Gilbert & Sullivan’s “Iolanthe” was the first stage work fully illuminated by electric light and caused quite a sensation and held audiences literally breathless when the Fairy Queen and her attendants entered with wands, wings and starlit crowns sparkling with transportable lights. In this rare Light Opera Works revival, noisy and poorly contained fog machines substitute for the effect. Fairies have lost their edge since Victorian England, to be sure, so in juxtaposing their enchanted realm with the more mundane world of British Parliament that the work satirically skewers, it is ironically the political realm that has remained business as usual more than century later. Substitute red and blue states for conservative and liberal, and the proceedings allow us a good laugh at ourselves in an election year. The irony is at a premium, with the fairies and the members of the House of Lords achieving the right amount of tongue in cheek, although James Harms’ Lord Chancellor tips over the top and lacks the rhythmic punch and precision necessary for his iconic patter songs. The singing, though excellent throughout, is distractingly and needlessly over-amplified, but the chorus, orchestra and overall sense of mayhem and spectacle, sparkle. (Dennis Polkow)

Gilbert & Sullivan’s “Iolanthe” plays through August 24 at Cahn Auditorium, 600 Emerson, $29-$85. (847)869-6300.

Watching veteran bass Samuel Ramey perform the supporting role of Leporello, the servant to Don Giovanni—the title role that Ramey played countless times throughout his long career—it was hard not to be struck by the irony of a singer at the twilight of a career juxtaposed next to a young singer, Italian baritone Ildebrando D’Arcangelo, who has been principally thus far associated with Leporello singing the Don next to yesteryear’s Don of Dons. But old habits apparently die hard, and as D’Arcangelo was singing away, the still far more charismatic Ramey could be seen actually mouthing the starring role along with him throughout the evening. Even more ironically, at one point the staging calls for Ramey to mouth for D’Arcangelo, when the plot calls for one to pose as the other. It was the highest drama to be experienced in an otherwise problematic production that was hopelessly confused and convoluted. Unlike the responsive ensemble of Chicago Symphony musicians assembled for “The Abduction From the Seraglio,” this alternate set of players of more high profile orchestral personnel never got the right feel for this music, performing in a consistently stodgy and heavy-handed manner, despite conductor James Conlon’s best attempts to keep things light and moving. Even worse, the recitatives are left to be played by a harpsichord far from the stage that had singers falling even further behind. Add to all this that the cast assembled to sing these iconic roles are by and large ill-equipped to sing Mozart and substitute heavy vibrato and a lack of precision for music that needs to be flexible and transparent, and the contrast couldn’t be more dramatic than the excellence being displayed during the “Abduction” performances that are running in repertory with this poorly done “Don” that unfortunately, descends into hell long before the Don himself gets there in the climax. (Dennis Polkow)

Mozart’s “Don Giovanni” plays through August 17 at Ravinia’s Martin Theatre, Lake-Cook at Green Bay Rds., Highland Park, (847)266-5100.

RECOMMENDED

For the first decades of its existence, Ravinia was the summer opera capital of the United States and concert opera was a significant element of the 22-year music directorship of James Levine, who was also music director of the Metropolitan Opera. That tradition stopped under Christoph Eschenbach but has continued on under James Conlon, who is also music director of the Los Angeles Opera and the Cincinnati May Festival, where this semi-staged version of Mozart’s “The Abduction From the Seraglio” originated in 2006 conceived around Michael York narrating the spoken portions with a script by Marie Therese Squerciati that streamlines much of the action as well as wryly interpolates the proceedings for a modern audience with an Anglo sensibility that perfectly suits York’s narration. But make no mistake: it is the singing and the music that are the clear stars of this production, from Morris Robinson’s velvet-smooth deep bass and terrifying yet comical portrayal of the sadistic Osmin to Hanan Alattar’s stunning ease through the soprano stratosphere as Konstanze to James Conlon’s lively tempos and brilliant shaping of a chamber ensemble made up of non-vacationing Chicago Symphony members. What a rare treat it is to hear a Mozart opera in Ravinia’s Martin Theatre, with its 800-plus seats, close to the size of the theaters that Mozart had in mind when he wrote these works rather than the too large Harris Theater (Chicago Opera Theater) or the cavernous Civic Opera House (Lyric Opera) where nuance and subtlety are lost. The experience is nothing short of revelatory and long may this glorious tradition continue. But next time around, please, Ravinia, keep the standards consistent and hire a professional chorus, preferably members of the CSO’s own unparalleled ensemble rather than a volunteer chorus. For this work a chorus is only heard twice, but they are crucial and climactic moments that mar what precedes them, kind of like baking a cake from scratch and using canned frosting to top it off. (Dennis Polkow)

Mozart’s “The Abduction From the Seraglio” plays through August 16 at Ravinia’s Martin Theatre, Lake-Cook at Green Bay Rds., Highland Park, (847)266-5100.

RECOMMENDED

Operatic tastes have always been fickle, and what was the masterpiece of one moment can today be considered trash, and vice-versa. Mere decades ago the operas of Puccini, today’s Lyric Opera favorite, were routinely considered trite and trashy, sentimentalized and watered-down Verdi with vulgar dashes of Wagner. When I once asked Sir Georg Solti why he hadn’t conducted or recorded more Puccini in his long career as an opera conductor, he winced and described Puccini as an “overrated hack.” So it should come as no surprise that Bizet’s “Djamileh,” once championed by no less than Gustav Mahler and Richard Strauss, fell out of favor more than a century ago and has yet to make it back it back into the repertoire. One practical reason is that the one-act work clocks in at only an hour, and thus has to be filled out to make a full evening. But as the current and mega-rare revival by the City of Chicago’s free summer opera program demonstrates, the work has been ignored at the peril of lovers of French opera. Yes, this story of a slave girl in love with her playboy master is trivial, but would those who would attack the work on that basis alone really want to defend the narrative merits of the shopworn warhorse “Carmen,” for which “Djamileh” is clearly an important stepping stone? Using the space under the newly restored Tiffany Dome done up as an inviting harem complete with large oriental rug, cushiony pillows and water pipe, the colorfully costumed characters sing in French with subtitles with the dialogue spoken in English. Mezzo soprano Katherine Pracht appropriately pines and sings her heart out as the title character and her master Haroun (tenor Cornelius Johnson) gives moments of unexpected tenderness and some wicked trills to his portrayal while the thankless role of matchmaker Splendiano who doesn’t get the girl is sung by baritone Bill McMurray. A short opening set of Middle Eastern music performed by Ronnie Malley on oud (Middle Eastern lute) and percussionist George Lawler perfectly complements the proceedings. (Dennis Polkow)

Free. 7:30pm. August 5, 7, Chicago Cultural Center, 78 E. Washington; (312)742-8497.

RECOMMENDED

In an effort to find suitable vehicles for superstar mezzo-soprano Marilyn Horne late in her career, Lyric Opera gave her a couple of male roles that in the eighteenth century were sung by superstar castratos, i.e., male singers whose testicles were removed before puberty to preserve a high voice but who developed an adult technique to propel their sound. (Talk about the high price of fame, but I digress.) One was Rossini’s “Tancredi,” the other was Handel’s “Orlando,” but both were jealous military conquerors, well, you get the general idea. That 1986 production also featured countertenor Jeffrey Gall and sopranos June Anderson and Gianna Rolandi (today Mrs. Sir Andrew Davis and director of Lyric’s Ryan Center) in a hopelessly mismatched vocal affair that left Handel the real loser. These days, it’s possible to assemble not one, but two countertenors for a production, as Chicago Opera Theater has done for its current production (Tim Mead and David Trudgen) and two sopranos who have range, power and even some eighteenth-century technique (Kate Mangiameli and Andriana Chuchman). The problem comes in when a seasoned Handel singer such as Mead who can sing trills and ornaments in an authentic style, shares the stage with cast members who simply do not have the vocal technique needed to sing this music. Twenty years ago, glossing over Handel’s rapid and florid passages like a car engine was deemed acceptable, but no longer. This is the kind of singing that gave Handel a bad reputation in modern times to begin with, and the music is not well served when the notes are blurred. Even so, there is much to recommend this production, especially director Justin Way’s film-noir conception, which at one point had Orlando choking an enemy in rhythm to his own trills and which manages to streamline the complex storyline. Raymond Leppard, one of the genre’s earliest early music pioneers, kept things moving along from the pit with grace and balance, and his own innovative harpsichord playing—sometimes augmented by organ along with the continuo—was some of the most original Handel accompaniment we have heard here. (Dennis Polkow)

At the Harris Theater for Music & Dance, 205 E. Randolph, (312)334-7777. This production is now closed.