Horny Pages

Throughout history and literature, pages have always provided a curious source of amorous adventure. In Verdi's Un Ballo In Maschera, Oscar serves as the king's confidant. In Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier, Octavian keeps the Marschallin satisfied while her husband is away. Smeton (the doomed page in Donizetti's Anna Bolena) is hopelessly in love with his Queen.

An old political joke suggests that whenever a gay lawmaker complains that he's been spending too many late nights at the office in order to "study up" on proposed pieces of legislation, the odds are pretty strong that, instead of leafing through legal documents, he's been boning up on some page. While older accomplices are usually portrayed as the ones who initiate intergenerational sex, the hard truth is that given the opportunity, a teenager whose hormones are raging out of control will hump anything in sight (porn star Scott O'Hara who, on several occasions, has proudly marched with the NAMBLA contingent in gay pride parades, recalls a period in his early teens when he was actively trying to seduce older men).

Without any doubt, the horniest of all pages in the operatic literature is Beaumarchais's Cherubino, whose adolescent lust dominated two recent productions. The fact that the operas in which Cherubino appeared were written by composers from different eras in music history (and staged with wildly differing approaches) makes them ripe for comparison.

MAD ABOUT THE BOY

These days it's rare to encounter one evening of opera which is a total delight from start to finish; a performance which is so well sung, so well acted, so well designed and so well staged that it is an absolute joy for the audience. There could be little doubt that the highlight of the Santa Fe Opera's 1989 season was its new production of Massenet's Cherubin starring Frederica von Stade. Even if the event felt like it had been musically and scenically cloned from hundreds of other operas, the look, feel and sound of the production contributed to an evening of total enchantment. Massenet's melodic score gushed with the kind of ardent romanticism which one longs for but rarely encounters. Although Ulisse Santicchi's sets and costumes could easily be recycled for productions of Carmen and The Barber of Seville, they served their purpose handsomely. Santicchi's partner, Giulio Chazalettes, directed with a keen sense of period style.

In Cherubin, the horny teenager is having such a good time falling in love with every woman he meets that he finds himself juggling the responses of at least four love-starved women.Sheryl Woods sang like an angel as the peasant girl Nina (whom Cherubin eventually marries) while Karen Huffstodt's exotic dancer, L'Ensoleillad, provided the most intense romantic interest among the young man's exploits. As they tried to capture the dashing young Cherubin's eye, Melanie Helton's Countess and Judith Christin's hysterically funny Baroness drew plenty of good-natured laughter from the audience.

The trio of jealous husbands threatened by the page's youthful virility was comprised of John Fryatt's Duke, James Busterud's Count and Don Bravo's Baron. Special mention goes to Mr. Bravo, a roly-poly young baritone who stepped in to fill the shoes of the ailing Gimi Beni in this production. This talented apprentice artist (who walks and sounds like Salvatore Baccalone come back to life) has the makings of a great operatic buffo.

Known for her portrayal of Mozart's Cherubino on opera stages throughout the world, Frederica von Stade tackled Massenet's characterization of the young page with a zeal and warmth that was instantly enchanting. The ardency of her love, the thrill of the performance and her generosity as a colleague allowed Miss von Stade to deliver one of the most delightful characterizations in a long and admirable career on the operatic stage. One yearns to encounter the comely mezzo-soprano singing the title role of Massenet's Cherubin sometime soon at another American opera company.

In case there is any doubt among readers, this was one evening when I had myself a damned good time. If only more evenings at the opera could measure up to this one's artistic success, I could be a very happy man.

LOOKING FOR A GOOD PUCK

Artistic success is one thing. Artistic standards are quite another. When I was finally able to catch up with the Peter Sellars production of Le Nozze di Figaro at PepsiCo Summerfare, I had an equally good time in the theater. Sellars never forgets that Mozart is about theater and that his operas should have meaning for contemporary audiences. Having updated Le Nozze di Figaro to modern times and relocated the Count Almaviva's digs to the dizzying heights of a Trump Tower penthouse, the director has done a stunning job of staging this opera so that everyone in his ensemble has a juicy characterization to work with.

Cherubino appears as a horny teenager with a hockey stick who makes straight for the refrigerator in Susanna's room, while Don Basilio (who is now described as "being in the music biz") can be seen videotaping the Count's Christmas party. Susanna and Figaro are hired help who offer companionship and service to their employers while trying to keep their lives in order. The Count is a piece of pompous Eurotrash; the Countess in bad need of a morning cigarette.

Every detail in this staging (from the closet scene to a showdown between two gay men and a woman as they dance to the sounds of Mozart's music as it emanates from a CD player) is so winningly executed that it almost takes one's breath away. Special kudos go to Adrianne Lobel for her sets, Dunya Ramicova for her costumes, James F. Ingalls for his exquisite lighting and conductor Craig Smith for his ability to pull together a tightly-meshed ensemble. The only major criticism I would make is that, once again, with so much going for the production, Sellars really should allow his cast to perform Mozart's opera in English.

Certainly, one couldn't ask for a finer ensemble. As Cherubino, Susan Larson demonstrated an ugly duckling kind of comedic strength while, under Sellars' astute direction, Jayne West's frustrated Countess delivered a "Dove sono" that was an epic adventure in multi-level introspection. Jeanne Ommerle's Susanna was one of the finest I've encountered and I took great delight in Sue Ellen Kuzma's characterization of Marcellina.

On the male side of things, Sanford Sylvan's affable Figaro and James Maddalena's seething Count brought more life to their roles than one normally finds while Frank Kelley's slimy Basilio proved to be an absolute delight. Throughout the evening, Sellars' ability to capture the body language of today and make it work for Da Ponte's characters brought a sense of vitality and animation to this operatic classic which one rarely senses in period productions. Bravo, bravissimo!


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This "Tales of Tessi Tura" column originally appeared in the Bay Area Reporter on September 14, 1989.