A win for Miss Kim!

An elegant silver-haired man steps up to the podium. It is John Adams himself, conducting his 1987 opera “Nixon in China” which premiered at the Houston Grand Opera. The overture is sweeping and symphonic with interesting contributions from the muted trumpets. The excellent Met chorus sings what seems to be excerpts from Mao’s little red book. Maybe this won’t be as awful as one expects. Three “secretaries” gesture in unison. The accurate costuming and wigs manage to make the three lovely women as homely as any individual-extinguishing communist might wish. Wait...THAT’s Ginger Costa-Jackson, one of the most beautiful women now onstage made homely by theatrical legerdemain!

President Nixon, ably portrayed by James Maddalena, steps off a rather realistic looking plane that has descended from the skies, accompanied by Janis Kelly’s Pat. They are greeted by Russell Braun’s Chou En-Lai. Welcoming inanities are mouthed. Oops, I mean sung. Well, sort of. The music begins to resemble Philip Glass’ score to “Koyaanisqatski” released in 1982. If ears could glaze over like eyes, they would have. The libretto is excruciatingly tedious; in Scene 2 in Chairman Mao’s study, political apothegms masquerading as aphorisms are exchanged. Scene 3 is a banquet in the Great Hall of the People with identically costumed choristers sitting at huge tables. The libretto consists of a succession of toasts. Are we supposed to consider “Where is the bathroom?” to be a fit line to set to music?

Act II offers a bit more action. In the second scene, poor Pat takes the “revolutionary ballet” seriously and enters the action, to the embarrassment and distress of her hosts. Actually, Mark Morris’ ballet, whether spoof or satire, marks the highlight of the evening. He should consider including more point work in his choreography. The dancers were excellent and the audience enjoyed the humor. Kathleen Kim lets loose her magnificent coloratura in the only truly operatic moment of the evening, although Russell Braun’s Chou En-lai offers a sorrowful coda at the end.

Act III involves all the principles on individual beds, all in a row, as in a dormitory. They reminisce about their pasts and then seem to conclude that the visit was meaningless. So was the opera. One wonders whether political issues are suitable subjects for opera. Doctor Atomic was even more tedious than Nixon in China. That being said, Sherman Edwards composed music and wrote lyrics for “1776” that were musical and moving. Gilbert and Sullivan were able to parody political events of their epoch in a way that left the audience satisfied. Can one help wondering what Sondheim might have done with this landmark event in U.S. history? As audience members are we so desperate for novelty that we will applaud anything new without considering its value? As the young woman in my box opined, “This is boring. I don’t care what happens to any of the characters”. She left early and I wished that I had as well.

-- meche kroop for The Opera Insider