|
OPERA REVIEW
May 18, 2006
|
East Meets West, but Mostly Mozart By Lindy Li Mark
East-West fusion has moved from restaurant to stage in a no-frills recycling of Mozart's Don Giovanni with Chinese garnishes. The world premier of The Grand Seducers: Don Giovanni Meets Xi-men Qing took place in the intimate 200-plus-seat ballroom theater of the Chinese Culture Center. Rather deceptively advertised as a brand-new East/West opera, with music by Gang Situ (arranged, I presume), 89 percent of the production was composed of excerpts from Don Giovanni, punctuated with Chinese percussion rallies between scenes. A few strophes from Chinese Huang-mei opera and an aria of unrecognizable ethnicity made up the Chinese part. That said, I must emphasize that there was not a dull moment in the 15 scenes (with one intermission), and the production was thoroughly enjoyable.
Produced by the Chinese Culture Center of San Francisco, the promotional poster states, "The opera features distinguished Merola Opera artists with vocal brilliance and comic ebullience under the direction of Isabel Milenski. Chinese tempered woodblock is incorporated into Western-style music. Understated stage sets will offset elaborate Chinese opera costumes in a time-warped collusion of cross-cultural interaction."
The story was put together by Chinese librettist Cao Lusheng, interlacing scenes from Don Giovanni (when he jilts Elvira and pursues Zerlina) with episodes from the novel known in English as Golden Lotus. Don Giovanni and Xi-men Qing are each womanizers in their own settings. The philandering Don Giovanni needs no introduction to Western audiences; less well-known is the Chinese Xi-men Qing, a character with 16 concubines who is ever on the prowl to add to his harem. He meets his match in the nymphomaniac Pan Jin-lian, the "Golden Lotus." After the matchmaker schemes to get them together, Xi-men Qing's debauchery eventually sends him to his grave.
Sung in English and Chinese, the production featured a cast of superb young operatic vocalists from the Bay Area and beyond. It is a bit unusual for an opera to feature three baritones and one tenor. Nevertheless, Eugene Brancoveanu as Don Giovanni, Richard Galyon as Commendatore, and Eugene Chan as Xi-men Qing all sang well. Tenor Thomas Glenn, as Giovanni's hapless valet Leporello, displayed the best Chinese diction and showed off some martial arts moves as well. Jennifer Palmer Boesing as the jilted Elvira and Heidi Moss as the shy, knock-kneed Zerlina also sang creditably.
The narrator/matchmaker/stage manager was played by Larry Zhang (sometimes in drag), who transitioned seamlessly between Cantonese, Mandarin, English, and lispy comic Mandarin, joining the stories together. Sabrina Hou was a snaky, flirtatious, and seductive Pan Jin-lian. Regrettably, as a well-trained professional Kunqu singer, her beautiful, bright voice did not get an adequate airing in this production.
Eugene Brancoveanu (Don Giovanni) Photo by Frank Wing
Asian-American baritone Eugene Chan has a fine singing voice but was somewhat miscast as Xi-men Qing. In the original story he is a wealthy, lascivious dandy; here he just stomped around the stage in a Chinese opera costume, without any trace of the stylized stride and stance of Chinese operatic movement. One would think he could do better with Chinese diction, as an opera singer who has to perform in many languages (not necessarily because of his ethnic origin). Chinese opera nitpickers might also complain that he should have worn the bushy headdress of a merchant, rather than that of a young scholar as he did. The powerful baritone of Richard Galyon, who entered in a phantom-like mask as Commendatore, immediately changed the opera-buffa atmosphere to serious drama as the three women condemned both Don Giovanni and Xi-men Qing to hell, where they recognize each other as brothers in distress. Whether there was really a lack of space backstage or not, dressing tables and mirrors were set up on side stages in view of the audience. Behind-the-scene jealousies and backstage flirtations — scripted, of course — were put stage front as part of the act. Clever spoken dialog, zany acting, and blond wigs falling into the singers' faces made for a hilarious show. The small theater made it hard to tell just how powerful the singers would have been in a larger venue. It also meant that one did not mind that the "orchestra" consisted of a piano, one string bass, a three-person Chinese percussion section, one er-hu (a two-stringed fiddle), and conductor Brian Asher Alhadeff. The conductor was indeed a Western touch: Traditional Chinese opera, with a small ensemble such as this one, has no conductor other than the lead percussionist, who keeps his eyes on the action on stage while the ensemble members keep their eyes on his drumstick. This production showcased young talent that deserves high praise. As I watched and listened, I found myself hoping that their talent may be seen by a wider audience in the future. As for mixing East with West, more work is needed.
(Lindy Li Mark is a professor and chair of the anthropology department at California State University East Bay. She studied ethnomusicology for her M.A. degree.)
|
