Two Boys
Metropolitan Opera
Saturday, Nov 9, 8PM
So I finally made it over to Lincoln Center for my first opera of the 2013-14 season, the American premier of Nico Muhly’s, Two Boys, loosely based on events surrounding a 2001 murder in Manchester, England.
First off, I gotta’ give the Met credit for trying to lure the young’ens into the opera house. It was positively Twilight Zone-ish seeing those hallowed, red-carpeted staircases (usually overrun by gray-haired socialites and frumpy opera queens - moi included!) swarming with nattily dressed 20 and 30-somethings.
Obviously, the subject matter (a murder perpetrated through internet fraud with homo-erotic and pedophilic overtones) is the stuff our TMZ-obsessed youth go wild over. But as the opera unfolded, it occurred to me that this type of techno-identity crime is just a natural progression from the masked sexual hijinks of a Figaro or Così.
More amusing to me was hearing opera singers belt out strings of profanity and modern sexual slang (examples: “he just blew me” “I told you, seven and a half inches”) with such glorious tone from the immense Met stage – not to mention simulated masturbation. I’ll admit to suppressing an occasional giggle due to the SNL skit-like anachronism of it all.
Though I enjoyed the performance as a whole and, for the most part, riveted by the bizarre intricacies of the story, I found much of the solo writing melodically unsatisfying. The orchestrations are appropriately atmospheric and moody but too often sound like the soundtrack to an Alfred Hitchcock movie a la Philip Glass. This lack of variety in orchestral texture and musical tempi created a sometimes gorgeous hypnotic quality; but just as often lulled me into drowsiness. But then again I’m a sucker for a big ole Puccini aria.
The full ensemble numbers, however, are just f*&cking gorgeous. It’s in these interludes that Muhly’s gift for musical texture and harmony truly shines. Instead of the obvious use of electronic sounds (cue "Axel F" from Beverly Hills Cop. Anyone, anyone? Bueller, Bueller?) to signify online chatter, Muhly uses overlapping choruses and purely acoustic instrumentation to create an almost undulating wall of sound that perfectly symbolizes the amorphous fluidity of cyberland.
Alice Coote has a warm blanket of a mezzo voice that you just want to wrap yourself up in. She’s a great, natural actress onstage as well.
Paul Appleby had the daunting task of portraying a 15-year-old teen murderer and pretty impressively pulls off the physicality and mannerisms. And though he’s only 30, his voice fills the Met’s barn of a theatre. It will be interesting to see how the voice develops over the next decade or so.
A boy soprano performed the role of the 12-year-old victim which definitely upped the ick factor in some of the bedroom scenes. But not to worry, nothing was actually simulated onstage, just a lot of innuendo and awkward intimacy.
It was nice to see the Met step into this century with the tasteful use of projections to enhance the bare, minimalist set and staging.
The choreography was interesting, if a bit bizarre. I mean, I get it. Ballet wouldn't exactly be appropriate, but the jerky movement felt a tad Spring Awakening-y to me.
Addendum 11/25: I totally failed to mention that the young boy soprano, Andrew Pulver, is a Pineda Lyric Opera Young Artist and was a featured soloist in our recent production of The Magic Flute. Congratulations, Andrew! And pat on the back to Pineda Conservatory.
Metropolitan Opera
Saturday, Nov 9, 8PM
So I finally made it over to Lincoln Center for my first opera of the 2013-14 season, the American premier of Nico Muhly’s, Two Boys, loosely based on events surrounding a 2001 murder in Manchester, England.
First off, I gotta’ give the Met credit for trying to lure the young’ens into the opera house. It was positively Twilight Zone-ish seeing those hallowed, red-carpeted staircases (usually overrun by gray-haired socialites and frumpy opera queens - moi included!) swarming with nattily dressed 20 and 30-somethings.
Obviously, the subject matter (a murder perpetrated through internet fraud with homo-erotic and pedophilic overtones) is the stuff our TMZ-obsessed youth go wild over. But as the opera unfolded, it occurred to me that this type of techno-identity crime is just a natural progression from the masked sexual hijinks of a Figaro or Così.
More amusing to me was hearing opera singers belt out strings of profanity and modern sexual slang (examples: “he just blew me” “I told you, seven and a half inches”) with such glorious tone from the immense Met stage – not to mention simulated masturbation. I’ll admit to suppressing an occasional giggle due to the SNL skit-like anachronism of it all.
Though I enjoyed the performance as a whole and, for the most part, riveted by the bizarre intricacies of the story, I found much of the solo writing melodically unsatisfying. The orchestrations are appropriately atmospheric and moody but too often sound like the soundtrack to an Alfred Hitchcock movie a la Philip Glass. This lack of variety in orchestral texture and musical tempi created a sometimes gorgeous hypnotic quality; but just as often lulled me into drowsiness. But then again I’m a sucker for a big ole Puccini aria.
The full ensemble numbers, however, are just f*&cking gorgeous. It’s in these interludes that Muhly’s gift for musical texture and harmony truly shines. Instead of the obvious use of electronic sounds (cue "Axel F" from Beverly Hills Cop. Anyone, anyone? Bueller, Bueller?) to signify online chatter, Muhly uses overlapping choruses and purely acoustic instrumentation to create an almost undulating wall of sound that perfectly symbolizes the amorphous fluidity of cyberland.
Alice Coote has a warm blanket of a mezzo voice that you just want to wrap yourself up in. She’s a great, natural actress onstage as well.
Paul Appleby had the daunting task of portraying a 15-year-old teen murderer and pretty impressively pulls off the physicality and mannerisms. And though he’s only 30, his voice fills the Met’s barn of a theatre. It will be interesting to see how the voice develops over the next decade or so.
A boy soprano performed the role of the 12-year-old victim which definitely upped the ick factor in some of the bedroom scenes. But not to worry, nothing was actually simulated onstage, just a lot of innuendo and awkward intimacy.
It was nice to see the Met step into this century with the tasteful use of projections to enhance the bare, minimalist set and staging.
The choreography was interesting, if a bit bizarre. I mean, I get it. Ballet wouldn't exactly be appropriate, but the jerky movement felt a tad Spring Awakening-y to me.
Addendum 11/25: I totally failed to mention that the young boy soprano, Andrew Pulver, is a Pineda Lyric Opera Young Artist and was a featured soloist in our recent production of The Magic Flute. Congratulations, Andrew! And pat on the back to Pineda Conservatory.
1 comment:
you know one of those boy sopranos is one of OUR boy sopranos?
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