THE BATTLE BETWEEN WAR AND SEX

By James L. Paulk ©2005

Mark Adamo: Lysistrata, or the Nude Goddess. Libretto by the composer. Stefan Lano, Conductor; Michael Kahn, Director. Houston Grand Opera, March 19, 2005. World Premiere.

Mark Adamo, a former music critic turned composer, burst onto the opera scene in 1998 with “Little Women.” Commissioned by Houston Grand Opera, it has become perhaps the most popular American opera written in the past few decades, with dozens of productions, including New York City Opera's, a national telecast of the 2000 Houston revival, a production last year in Mexico City, and one planned for Tokyo. Popularity is not necessarily a good sign, of course (those who wish to argue are instructed to tune in any top-rated radio station), and I had mixed feelings about it. The essential problem with “Little Women” was a sappy libretto based on a decidedly mediocre novel popular with young girls. Still, there was a sophistication in the score far beyond that of the text. So I was intrigued when HGO announced that it had commissioned a second opera, “Lysistrata,” from Mr. Adamo. Under the reign of long-time director David Gockley (who departs for San Francisco at the end of this season), the company has established a pattern of repeat commissions from the composers it favors, allowing them to develop.

In Aristophanes' simple, somewhat vulgar farce, the women, tired of war, declare a sex strike until the men agree to make peace. Adamo has kept the phalli (fake penises that grow more erect as the strike progresses) and the farting, but has stretched the text into a much blunter, more strident feminist and anti-war political work. And, presumably wanting to write love songs, he has added pairs of lovers. The love duets do prettify things a bit, providing some relief from all that preaching. And there is a layered complexity to the text that is appealing. But the brittle satire and wit of the original has given way here to broad and obvious comedy. Apparently thinking this was necessary to appeal to a larger audience, Adamo has filled the opera with less-than-subtle puns and rhymes. The Houston audience seemed transfixed, so perhaps he is once again correct in his assessment of what it takes to succeed.

Adamo, who is bright and quick-witted in person, apparently saved his subtlety for the score. Here he has again demonstrated his mastery of the operatic language de jour, this time with a fast-paced, melodic and tonal vocal line surrounded by dissonance from the orchestra. At its best, the vocal line sounds like it could have been written by Steven Sondheim (I mean this as a compliment), but the orchestra seems to be saying: “this is an opera, not a Broadway musical.” While the latter effect can seem a bit self-conscious, and while it would be nice to hear something a bit more forward-looking, it must be said that it works rather well. As with the libretto, there is quite a bit of complexity for those who can manage to follow it. For example, motifs sung by one character are sometimes repeated by another in a different key. These touches are easy to miss, however, because the text goes by so fast and the score is subtle enough to get pushed aside by all but the most attentive audience members. For this reason, this opera would probably reward a repeat visit.

The young cast was mostly excellent. Emily Pulley, a rapidly rising young American soprano, handled the stratospheric and acrobatic demands of the title role with ease, helped, no doubt, by the lovely acoustics of the Cullen Theater (the smaller of the Wortham Center 's two performance spaces, used for chamber operas). Her role calls for some rather silly clowning around, which she carried a bit too far, but that is probably the fault of the director, Michael Kahn.  

Soprano Laquita Mitchell turned in a more nuanced performance as Myrrhine, and she got some of the best, jazziest music. The role of Nico, lover of Lysia (Lysistrata's name until the end of the opera), was sung with a bit of gusto by tenor Chad Shelton. Bass Joshua Winograde was a noble Leonides, the Spartan general. He managed to overcome the unfortunate cartoonish accent required of the Spartans, which, however, doomed mezzo Victoria Livengood, who sang the role of his wife.

The production was rather Spartan, so to speak, and colorful in a kitschy way. A small, rotating box served as a temple, bedroom, battlefield, etc., and the action took place around it. The nude goddess of the subtitle turns out to be a statue, by the way. As with most modern opera, however, the stage movement and acting were a cut above the standard for traditional opera, an effect aided by the good-looking youthful cast.   Stefan Lano conducted the small ensemble, which included extra percussion.

Lysistrata will come to New York City Opera next season, and is likely to be picked up elsewhere rather soon. This is a composer who knows how to keep his audience happy, a talent that opera administrators haven't failed to notice.