Labeled “a poetic monodrama for soprano, chamber group and electronics that explores the body as island, synaesthesia and the nature of Time,” Isola opens with a naked woman (Julia Eichten) in a transparent coffin-like structure situated on a small pebbled landscape amidst water and tufts of flora. She is joined on this island of sorts by soprano Ariadne Greif, who over the course of the next hour sings — abstractly, often simply repeating or rearranging a small set of words in a given stanza (à la Gertrude Stein, who at one point is quoted verbatim) — of being adrift in a world of physical stimuli (particularly sound and color), where she has trouble keeping track of time (“for the time being, in the interim / from hour to hour, in due time / in the fulness of time, time remains / persists, passes, endures, lasts, elapses / since it is getting late already late / and time to press away time”).
Whatever composer Alyssa Weinberg and poet/librettist J. Mae Barizo’s intention (which they explain in the program notes but which doesn’t fully make it to the stage), the only thing that truly matters — especially in a work that leans so heavily toward the abstract — is whether the confluence of elements in play evokes a response. To that end, it’s hard to overlook what the artists left on the table. Whether by creative design or in the interests of simplifying performance logistics, a full one-third of the sound we hear comes from prerecorded tracks, to the point that sometimes Greif and the three musicians sit idle while the “performance” persists. By incorporating a couple of synths and adding two additional string players and vocalists, every sound we hear could be produced live — and doing so would take better advantage of the Compound “Laboratory” space by inserting more layers of physical depth into the soundscape, a choice that would have decisively augmented the synaesthetic spell that the artists’ are clearly trying to cast.
Occasionally a lack of attention to detail further compromises the proceedings. The most glaring example comes midway through when Eichten mirrors Greif’s every move, right down to lip-synching her vocals (“looking at myself / from a distance”). Dressed identically, their general resemblance makes the visual work, except that notable difference in their hairdos mars the effect.
The net result is that what’s onstage sometimes feels like a half-measure. That’s not to say the performers don’t do a fine job with the material. Greif’s vocal stylings are tightly modulated, and the musical ensemble do as nice a job with their more avant garde duties (bowls, sheets of paper, toy piano) as with their violins and cello. At its best, the combination of sound, color (Jasmine Lesane’s elegant washes of light are simple but spot-on), and movement (Eichten emerges from her transparent box early on to complement/augment Greif’s character) may be capable of at least implying synaesthesia.
Whether all this amounts to a work of art that is pleasing or transporting is, of course, in the sensorium of the beholder. What perhaps stands on more objective ground is that this first iteration of Isola is notably not all it could/should be.
Nonetheless, credit Long Beach Opera with defying any attempt to put them in a box. With (to quote the LBO website) a “longstanding artistic philosophy of presenting an expanded vision of opera,” since James Darrah took the artistic helm in 2021 there is no doubt they are in earnest about “building out a bold, innovative vision centered around defining the form’s future.”
Isola will be performed again February 10 and 11 at 7:30 p.m.
Note: All performances currently sold out, but there is a waiting list.
Details: (562) 432-5934; LongBeachOpera.org
Venue: Compound, 1395 Coronado Ave., Long Beach 90804