The Art of Dell'Arte

It is a difficult task for young opera singers to make the transition to the professional stage and I heartily applaud Dell’Arte Opera Ensemble for giving them intensive coaching in stagecraft, body movement, languages, diction and mime and then giving them the opportunity to perform in fully staged productions. Scenery and costumes are kept to a minimum to focus attention on the performers themselves. For the past two weekends, New Yorkers were privileged to hear and see two excellent productions in an intimate setting, with four performances of each. This means that four different casts were trained, collectively and individually.

I have seen the dazzling production of Ariadne auf Naxos at the Met and I have seen the modest one presented at the East Thirteenth Street Theatre; the latter, surprisingly, was more delightful. The accomplished conducting by Christopher Fecteau of his own orchestration brought out every nuance in the Strauss score. There were interesting melodies and unusual harmonies that had gone unnoticed until then, so distracted was I at the Met by directorial and costuming excess. Maestro Fecteau’s orchestration included violin, viola, cello, bass, keyboard, French horn, trumpet, clarinet, oboe, bassoon and flute. And what a full, rich sound they made, without a trace of muddiness.
The singers all did justice to their roles and acted them convincingly; the strong directorial hand of Benjamin Spierman was evident. The libretto by Hugo von Hoffmansthal equally skewers inflated artistic egos and benighted bourgeois taste, as evidenced by the bizarre demand of the (probably parvenu) host who wants to combine the high art of opera with the low art of musical comedy in order to get the fireworks started on time. Everyone thinks only of his/herself. The stars of the opera serie have tantrums that are recognizable and therefore hilarious.The shenanigans of the musical comedy troupe are endearing to everyone but the stars of the opera serie who are wildly insulted. The young composer is crushed by the trashing of his work, but mollified by the attentions of the too-seductive-by-half soubrette of the comedy troupe.

Lovely harmonies were sung by Naiad, Dryade and Echo. The Major Domo, a speaking role performed by Eric Kramer drew major laughs with his over-the-top German rigidity. I will decline to single out any of the singers since I only saw one cast. Suffice it to say that there was a true ensemble feel which can only be created by a long period of rehearsal and much labor.

Dell’Arte also presented Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte on alternate nights. Maestro Fecteau again did the orchestration, this time without violin and viola but with paired horns and clarinets; this suited the work perfectly. For this work, the conductor was Samuel McCoy and the stage director was Susan Gonzalez who kept the action moving along with some clever English dialogue which she herself wrote. It managed to walk a fine line--never archaic and never egregiously hip. Again, fine harmonizing was heard by the Three Ladies who fought over the unconscious Prince Tamino and by the Three Boys (sung by women) who show up to prevent Pamina from stabbing herself and to prevent Papageno from hanging himself. Emanuel Schikaneder certainly emphasized the numeral three! The work was composed as a Singspiel and clearly relates to Mozart’s and Schikaneder’s interest in Masonic rituals.

At times, the story tends to drag and can be insulting to women. Several lines state that a woman without a man should not be a ruler, that a woman needs to rely on a man, that women’s speech will lead a man astray, and so forth. We are free to tune out that dated nonsense and to glory in Mozart’s magical music.

© meche kroop for The Opera Insider