A Real Rarity -- The First Cartoon Opera, Live!

Right at the outset, I have to say, "Thank God for our schools of music."  While the commercial opera companies, eyes firmly on the bottom line, are staging La Traviata and Madame Butterfly and Carmen again and again and again and again, the students at our university faculties of music are venturing into much rarer repertoire -- with very rewarding results.

I've written about this opera in my rare music blog:  Opera Based on Newspaper Cartoons!

But last week I got my first-ever chance to take in a live performance of The Cunning Little Vixen by Leoš Janáček.  That was thanks to the Wilfrid Laurier University Faculty of Music.

The first and biggest challenge any production faces with this opera is the fact that most of the singers represent animals, birds, amphibians, even insects, while a few are humans.  How on earth do you costume this assortment of odd-sized characters?  I have to admit that this was the fascinating question I was pondering throughout dinner, while still admitting that the producers might (for budget reasons) be forced to take some shortcut.

Well.  The result -- in Brent Krysa's design -- was not in any way realistic.  But it worked -- in spades.  The characters wore mostly ordinary, off-the-rack type clothes -- but careful colour selection defined who was who.  Bright red for the vixen -- not only suits the animal type, but also ensures that the singer is always the centre of focus.  There's no colour like fire-engine red for pulling focus on stage!  The dog fox, her mate, wore a toned down maroon red in a much longer coat, with a snappy watch cap.  In fact, many of the characters were defined by headgear: black and white striped cap for the badger, woolly toque for the farm dog, fleece-lined hats with ear flaps for the humans.  The hens in the barnyard had snappy yellow tights to highlight the legs as they strutted and posed.  The mosquito definitely stood out in black leather-bar attire!

The setting too was marvellous.  An elongated arena platform with audience on three sides (the orchestra was on the fourth, behind a black scrim) was constructed entirely of what appeared to be raw white pine.  A dozen poles connected to the ceiling by sloping ropes created a stylized forest.  A slightly raised walkway curving through the space gave variety of levels.  A circular depression at one end served as a pond for the frogs, and later as a campfire for the men's drinking party.  At the other end, a big nest of pillows created the foxes' den.

The chorus were split into two parts: an offstage mixed chorus and an onstage chorus of a dozen women who appeared first forest spirits, and subsequently became hens and then baby foxes.  Their choreography was not high-intensity dancing, but more a matter of stylized poses flowing slowly from one position to another.  The hens strutted and pecked (with their arms -- very funny!).  The young foxes dashed quickly about, a good contrast.  They also turned in some of their most effective singing in the high-pitched, chattering scherzando music of the young foxes.

This onstage group, then, participated in the action -- but also served an observer role reminiscent of the chorus in the Greek theatre.  The director added a fascinating dimension to the opera with this concept.  Also, not coincidentally, the onstage chorus served to bridge over the sometimes lengthy orchestral preludes and interludes in a theatre with no proscenium curtain.  As well, they helped with the minimal but important scene changes.

I'd never really thought about it much when listening to my recording, but this is definitely an opera for the women!  Out of 23 named roles, only 7 are for male singers.  Even many of the "male" roles among the animals are taken by female voices -- for example, the dog fox is a mezzo-soprano to contrast with the brilliant soprano of the vixen.  

The entire opera was double-cast, so the cast I saw on Saturday night appeared only for that one performance (of three).  But many of the singers of smaller parts switched into other and larger roles in the alternate cast.  Principals switched into the chorus on their alternate nights.

I'd love to comment on the work of every single member of the singing cast, but with so many I will have to just touch on a few highlights.

The largest of the male roles is the role of the Gamekeeper (sometimes described elsewhere as the Forester).  It's a tenor role with some dangerously low passages thrown in for good measure.  That's a common characteristic of Janáček's music, by the way -- forcing singers to go to both extreme ends of their range.  Gary Butler sounded secure and effortless in the soaring high passages but had much more difficulty with the low portions -- and his diction wasn't clear enough to carry the words across when he was singing in that low register.  Pity, because his acting was very strong indeed.

Baritone Chad Quigley gave an effective performance as the poacher, Harasta.  With his ingratiating manner, he projected the air of a suave conman, a nice contrast to the surly Gamekeeper who was trying to catch him in the act.

Zola Magwood was appropriately aggressive in manner and voice as the Rooster.  Sydney Trotter emitted a fine comical shriek as Chocholka, the crested hen, when attacked by the Vixen.

Mezzo soprano Krista Paton was wonderful as the Fox.  She strode around with great assurance, and her singing clarified not only the words but the feelings behind them.

Soprano Sarah Dufresne gave a spectacular rendition of the central role of Vixen Sharpears.  Vocally she owned the role, equally at home in the lowest passages and in the highest soaring notes.  Her acting, too, encompassed all facets of the role: the playfulness, shrewdness, flirtation, and aggression were all there in their proper turns.  

All of these singers are people to watch if they choose to pursue music professionally!

Of all the fine moments in the staging, there were two that stood out for me.  One was the subtlety of the first flirtatious scene between the Vixen and the Fox, almost like a mating dance as they advanced, retreated and circled among the trees.  This was the vocal and physical highlight of the entire night.

The other was at the end, after Harasta killed the Vixen, when the chorus resumed their role of forest spirits.  They drew her up off the floor, gently removed her red coat to hang on a tree, and thus she became one of them.  It was a heart tugging moment as she slowly walked off the stage with the other spirits.

That bright red coat, by the way, was hanging on a tree at the beginning of the evening.  At the very end of the opera, the Little Frog leaps at the Gamekeeper and says, "My grampa once jumped in your lap" (again referring back to the beginning).  In that moment, the red coat joined the frog to become a dual symbol of the ever-turning wheel of death and new life -- a lovely underlining of the intention of the composer and librettist.

The entire opera was given in the English translation by Norman Tucker, and for the most part the text came across clearly -- or at least, enough of it did to make it possible to follow the story.  Those beastly low tessituras created problems for several of the singers!

The university orchestra played magnificently.  The little ostinato figures so prevalent in Janáček were allowed to drop down into the background so that the counter-melodies stood out the more clearly.  One or two iffy notes aside, the orchestra had a secure grasp of this terribly complex score throughout.

In a work where vocal lines often cut right across the rhythmic and harmonic sense of the orchestra, you'd better have a first-rate conductor in charge of the proceedings, and one who thoroughly understands and appreciates the composer's style.  Who better than veteran, and long-time friend of music in Kitchener-Waterloo, Raffi Armenian?  Under his secure direction the entire complex work gelled in a way that many professional companies might well envy.  

Again, thanks to the Faculty of Music at Wilfrid Laurier for this very rewarding performance of a true operatic rarity!