As far as opera’s go, The Consul qualifies as modern. First performed in 1950, Gian Carlo Menotti’s bleaker-than-bleak tale of one woman’s struggle to escape her poor police state of a country by way of its Kafkaesque bureaucracy and join her freedom-fighter husband was a Broadway smash, winning not only the New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award but also the Pulitzer Prize for Music.
But a funny thing has happened on the way to the 21st century. Like so many films of the mid 20th century that wrestled with the brave new modern world, The Consul feels more dated than timeless.
Of course, if you’re considering coming out for The Consul, it’s the music that matters most to you—and on that score (ha!), things aren’t so simple. To be sure, as opera The Consul does not feel dated musically. More often than not, with an adventurous interplay of strings and horns spiced with modern touches like plucking and strumming the inside of the piano, Menotti puts us in mind more of mid-period American film composer extraordinaire Bernard Herrmann (remember all those racing Hitchcock scores like North by Northwest?) than of Verdi. Even though the world of The Consul is dreary and monotonous, Menotti keeps things interesting. As always—and I do mean always—the Long Beach Opera Orchestra is equal to the task.
Vocally, although there are moments for the supporting cast to shine, this is Magda’s story, and Menotti has written the role as a tour de force. Patricia Racette does the honors, and she’s flawless. Admittedly, I’d never heard The Consul, and I’m pretty far from the world’s foremost expert in opera, so do I know that her performance was literally flawless? Don’t be silly. But the seeming effortlessness with which Racette performs this obviously heavy lifting is unmistakable. If you’ve got a hankering to hear a soprano just kill it, go buy a ticket to The Consul.
For all Racette’s greatness, my favorite vocal moments came at the close of the first three sections, when Racette sang in concert with other performers. To some extent the scenes in The Consul—especially the earlier ones—are pretty formulaic musically: a lot of recitative (my pet peeve with opera. I just don’t get the point), some solo singing (whether by one or multiple performers trading off), then a group climax. The first scene, for example, climaxes with Racette, Justin Ryan (playing Magda’s husband), and Victoria Livengood (Magda’s mother) soaring in unison. Wonderful stuff.
Those group vocals serve an additional purpose in this production: they help compensate for a venue whose acoustics are not well designed for opera. Often during the performance soloists are not quite loud enough in relation to the orchestra. At first you might think the cast isn’t quite strong enough (Ryan’s first solo lines, being in a lower register than most of what we hear in this female-dominated work, suffer particularly), but before long it becomes apparent that the problem lies elsewhere. Thankfully, Racette almost always comes through loud and clear.
The Consul’s biggest defect is its plot. For starters, very little happens, and most of what does happen is simply Magda in the consulate as the bureaucracy spins its frustrating wheels. Yes, bureaucracy sucks. Paperwork sucks. We get it, G.C. Then there’s the gaping plot hole concerning occurs just before and after intermission. While the first-act curtain goes down on a major revelation (never mind that we see it coming from miles away), the second act opens as if it never happened. Don’t even try to figure it out; it’s simply bad writing.
Although there are some nice scenic and lighting elements to The Consul (an angled light bar that drops down from the fly space, shadows cast by hanging chairs), a few tech problems plagued opening night, including a lack of payoff from the design element that took the most time of any set up during scene changes. (I’m still not sure what it was.) Because this is a fairly spare production, it’s notable when a few things don’t go right. But the visual concept for the show, with its monochromes and Caligari angles, nicely complements Menotti’s intended miasma. (Bonus points for the consulate secretary’s towering edifice of a desk.)
Although you won’t get anything in The Consul that’s revelatory on the subjects of oppression and bureaucracy, this is a prime example of the state of the art that of opera in the middle of the 20th century. And with a prima donna (you know, in the good way) that is Patricia Racette, this may be something you want to hear.
Time: Fri 8 p.m., Sun 2:30 p.m., Runs through Oct. 22
Cost: $49-$150
Details: (562) 432.5934, LongBeachOpera.org
Venue: Centinela Valley Center for the Arts, 114901 S. Inglewood Ave., Lawndale