The San Francisco Bay Area’s Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra joined Southern California’s Long Beach Opera to perform Handel’s Tolomeo at New York’s Caramoor estate near Katonah in the Hudson Valley.
Georg Fredrik Handel (1685-1759), a naturalized English composer famed for his Italian opere serie, counts Tolomeo as the 25th of his 43 operas. It is the last of his operas for the Royal Academy of Music, a short lived theater whose founders, including Handel, had invested in the slave trading Royal African Company. Tolomeo starred the mighty, very expensive triumvirate of singers, the castrato Senesino and feuding sopranos Francesca Cuzzoni and Faustina Bordoni in their last appearances together, ever.
Not to be outdone these current West Coast companies assembled a mighty quintet of singers to recount Mr. Nicola Francesco Haym’s libretto of some dry recitatives that introduced a long string of arias, a most affecting echo duet, and a final, five voiced ensemble. Ptolemy (the ninth or maybe the tenth) was young, San Francisco Opera finished countertenor Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen who brought quiet dignity and rapturous singing to the lovesick shepherd Osmin, who is actually the deposed king of Egypt.
Tolomeo/Osmin happens on a washed up sailor who happens to be his younger brother Alessandro whom Cleopatra (the third) has installed as an upstart king of Egypt. Famed countertenor Kangmin Justin Kim brought a wiry, wily and witty presence to this pivitol role (and impressive chest tones — he sang Mozart’s Cherubino at Covent Garden). At first glance Alessandro falls in love with Elisa, sister of the King of Cyprus, sung by the extremely flirtatious soprano Nicole Heaston who has already fallen in love, at first glance, with the shepherd Osmin — this was the Faustina Bordoni role.
Meanwhile, Ptolmey’s lovesick wife Seleuce is searching vainly for him (lead photo, her arm partially blocking conductor Peter Whelan). Seleuce, the Francesca Cuzzoni role, was sung by soprano Lauren Snouffer in enraptured tone when finding Ptolemy, when not in desperate tone while searching for him, and in furious tone at antagonists Elisa or Araspe. Araspe (King of Cyprus) is Elisa brother who has fallen in love at first glance with Seleuce. Araspe was sung by bass-baritone Dashon Burton, often a Beethoven Ninth bass at major orchestras.
To make a much longer story somewhat shorter: if Seleuce does not give up Ptolemy and marry Araspe Ptolemy will be put to death. Meanwhile Elisa gives Ptolemy a flask of poison, which he drinks because he cannot bear to lose his beloved wife Seleuce. Alessandro, however, has saved the day by restoring Ptolemy to his rightful, deserved place as King of Egypt, though Ptolemy, already poisoned, has fallen dead.
There was a lot to sing about, a lot of emotions to deal with, and a whole lot of Baroque affections to explore. Stage director James Darrah Black took this not too serious opera seria even a bit further. Alessandro, excusing himself from a presumed reconciliation with Elisa, handed out mirrrorized blocks to the the quarreling foursome who all agreed, at last, to have a happy ending. Though we will come to understand that the whole intrigue had been caused and resolved by Alessandro, who therefore has the last laugh.
The emotions are very serious indeed, and we participated mightily with each one. Behind the actors, the 25 players of the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra wailed, pined and rejoiced with impressive fervor, together with the quintet of singers. There was never a moment of hesitation under the careful, masterful control of Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra’s recently appointed music director Peter Whelan. The Irish maestro held his starring role facing the audience (and directly facing my second act seat), building and relaxing Handel’s dramatic tensions with a knowing precision that enveloped us all — orchestra players, singers and audience — into one sentient ensemble.
While the introductory recitatives flowed seamlessly into the stream of arias that built Handel’s inexorable tensions stage director James Darrah Black kept the pace emotionally distanced and light hearted, playing with the foamy sea of the initial scenes as real sheets of upholstery type foam, while forcing his singers to step back and forth over a low fence made of a series of neon tubes that crossed the stage. In the last act, Alessando, the evening’s master mind, rearranged the individual elements of the low fence, making an enclosed space that had to be broken out of. He then passed out the mirrorized blocks, now building blocks, to Ptolemy, his beloved wife Seleuce, and to the redeemed-by-love sister and brother Elisa and Araspe, each of whom then placed a block, one atop another, making the stack of blocks — let us say they were Handel’s arias — visually understood as everything being finally in place.
Then came Alessandro’s final smile. It was engrossing Handel indeed.
Prairie T. Trivuth designed the minimal production — hints of a wrecked airplane flanking the low, neon tubed fence behind which were a couple of large wooden boxes.
Michael Milenski
Caramoor Center for Music and the Arts, Katonah, NY, July 26, 2006
All photographs copyright Gabe Palacio, courtesy of the Caramoor Center for Music and the Arts/