Thursday, June 27, 2019

The Obsessive Anguish of Unrequited Love

If you've ever had a crush on someone that didn't turn out the way you hoped it would, you're probably familiar with the emotional roller coaster ride known as unrequited love. Wikipedia defines the phenomenon as: "One-sided love that is not openly reciprocated or understood as such by the beloved (the beloved may not be aware of the admirer's deep and strong romantic affection or may consciously reject it)."

More intoxicating than a play session with an imaginary friend from early childhood, infatuation (which may be the gateway drug to unrequited love) sometimes sounds like this.


At what point does the obsessive element of a friendship cross over from an ardent fascination to emotional stalking? From casual moments of tenderness to manipulating someone into professing a love they do not feel? At what point does stubborn denial lead to shock, confusion, and disillusionment?

Patty (Lauren Blumenfeld) and Wyatt (Max Jenkins)
share a tense dinner in Stepdaddy

Matt McBrayer's seven-minute short entitled Stepdaddy begins as Patty (who now insists on being called Patricia) arrives at an old friend's house for dinner, eager to share a bottle of wine and some big news. Though Wyatt (Max Jenkins) keeps trying to tell her that he has an important piece of news to share, by the time Patricia (Lauren Blumenfeld) has knocked down half a bottle of wine -- and keeps interrupting Wyatt's attempts to finish a sentence -- she is feeling no pain.

Patty keeps making subtle digs at Wyatt (an artist who earns a living making macramé products) as she insinuates that they shared a close sexual relationship back in college, even though Wyatt is openly gay. "Oh, that's all right, Patricia," responds her weary and wary friend. "I forgot that you drink wine like you give head -- with tiny sharp, little fangs that hurt my foreskin."

Lauren Blumenfeld plays a desperate and
clueless college friend in Stepdaddy

Written by Anna Greenfield and directed by Lisa Steen, Stepdaddy reaches a delicious climax shortly after Patty blurts out that (since she's older now and all alone) the only person she could think of who might be willing to donate sperm to fertilize her frozen eggs is Wyatt. Seeing the shocked look on Wyatt's face, Patty decides to make a quick exit but, as she opens the front door, is stunned and confused to see her handsome father standing there. It turns out that Fred (Peter Gallagher) also has some big news for his daughter. "I know it's sudden, but when you're my age, you just know," he explains. "Patty -- meet your new......"

End of scene.

* * * * * * * * *
If you prefer to watch unrequited love play out on a much larger scale, the San Francisco Opera's new production of George Frideric Handel's 1733 opera, Orlando, might be more to your liking (especially if you're interested in seeing and hearing a theorbo in action). In his program note, director Harry Fehr writes:
Carlo Capece’s Orlando, inspired by Ludovico Ariosto’s epic poem Orlando Furioso, was altered more radically than almost any other text which Handel set. Two significant roles were almost entirely removed, while the shepherdess Dorinda took on a new, quasi-comic character. Most interestingly, an entirely new protagonist was introduced: Zoroastro, a sorcerer who has no equivalent in Capece’s original. The idea of taking this piece, which is so vague in its indication of time and place, and locating it somewhere absolutely specific appealed to me. Researching the history of mental illness and its treatment, I learnt that the 1930s was a period of great experimentation in this field and, by the end of that decade, of course, Europe had been plunged into war. This struck me as the ideal context in which to place this narrative. As I researched further, it became apparent what further choices I should make to achieve the specificity I wanted. It is Britain in the early autumn of 1940. Orlando is a Royal Air Force pilot, a vital asset to the military while the Battle of Britain is raging. Zoroastro, perhaps a Jewish refugee from continental Europe, is a military doctor, seeking a cure to get the love-struck flying ace back into the sky.”
Christian Van Horn as Zoroastro in Orlando
(Photo by: Cory Weaver)
“The scandal of King Edward VIII’s abdication to marry the American divorcĂ©e Wallis Simpson is a recent example of how love leads to dereliction of duty. Medoro, meanwhile, is a soldier recently evacuated from Dunkirk, recuperating under the care of the young nurse, Dorinda. Angelica, who talks frequently of returning to her homeland, is an American at a time when America was still neutral. She has encountered Medoro on his arrival back in Britain from Dunkirk, and fallen in love with him. Very wealthy, she is paying for him to have the best private care money can buy. These five characters will encounter each other in a military hospital based, in fact, on a real hospital which was opened in 1933, and which still stands in West London. Given that every location as stipulated by the libretto is outside, and that imagery relating to the natural world permeates it, it is perhaps surprising how little the rational, modern, interior world of this production is at odds with the text. In a few places, it’s true, we have made a small textual adjustment to ensure that what a character sings does not conflict with what the audience sees. However, in making these slight amendments to fit the circumstances of this performance, I like to think that I have channeled the spirit of Handel and how he approached existing texts for use in his own new productions.”
Christina Gansch (Dorinda), Heida Stober (Angelica), and
Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen (Medoro) in a scene from Orlando
(Photo by: Cory Weaver)

Using a staging that originated at the Scottish Opera in 2011 and was revived at Welsh National Opera in 2015, the elegant production design by Yannis Thavoris (with lighting for this revival designed by Tim van ‘t Hof and projections designed by Andrzej Goulding) was modeled after the Royal Masonic Hospital in Ravenscourt Park. Thanks to the use of a revolving turntable, the audience is easily transported from a hospital corridor and reception area to a psych ward in the clinic where the hero is subjected to psychological profiling. In other scenes, Orlando undergoes electroshock therapy and is confined to an isolation room during one of his psychotic episodes.

Sasha Cooke and Christian Van Horn in a scene
from Orlando (Photo by: Cory Weaver)

Other than some annoying video projections that focus on the ring Orlando (Sasha Cooke) gave to Angelica (Heidi Stober), I loved the look of this production. Thanks to conductor Christopher Moulds, I loved much of the sound of the production as well. Last year, when countertenor David Daniels was forced to withdraw (due to accusations of sexual harassment at other opera companies), Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen (an Adler Fellow) was recruited to learn the role of Medoro for his mainstage debut with the company. Cohen acquitted himself splendidly, showing bright potential for an international career.

Countertenor Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen (Medoro) was
one of Orlando's shining assets (Photo by: Cory Weaver)

Bass-baritone Christian Van Horn (a recipient of the 2018 Richard Tucker Award) returned to San Francisco Opera as Zoroastro, the neurologist who thinks he can shock Orlando back to his senses so that the war hero can regain his libido as well as his sense of joy. As always, Heidi Stober's performance was notable for its solid artistry.

Sadly, Sasha Cooke was not up to the demands of
the title role in Orlando (Photo by: Cory Weaver)

Although the five principal artists were singing their roles for the first time in this production, a most unfortunate casting decision left a gaping hole in the performance. To put it bluntly, mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke (who was chosen to portray Orlando) was severely overparted. I cannot clearly articulate why, in so many passages, her voice was nearly inaudible in the part of her vocal range that should be a mezzo's greatest strength. Despite the fact that Cooke had previously sung the role of Medoro on several occasions, her performance in San Francisco left many audience members wondering who cast her in the role and why.

The complicated romances that unfold in Handel's opera boil down to the following: Orlando is a famous soldier betrothed to Angelica. Though he is suffering from severe depression and still loves her, she no longer loves him. Instead, Angelica is head over heels in love with another wounded soldier (Medoro), whom she hopes to marry once he is released from the hospital so that they can return to her homeland and live happily ever after. To cover for her infidelity, Angelica accuses Orlando of having an affair with another woman. When Orlando learns about the intense relationship between Angelica and Medoro he becomes psychotic and starts flirting with Dorinda.

Heidi Stober as Angelica in Orlando (Photo by: Cory Weaver)

But there's a big problem. While taking care of Medoro's wounds, Dorinda has fallen in love with him. Then she discovers that he loves Angelica. When Orlando goes bonkers in Dorinda's presence, he starts raving about the possibility of marrying Dorinda. That leaves a working wartime nurse with a curious conflict of interest: Should she marry one patient for love or another for money? What if the man she chooses leaves her high and dry?

The saving grace of the performance I attended was Austrian soprano Christina Gansch who, as Dorinda, appears as a nurse rather than a shepherdess. With a healthy voice, solid acting chops, and impressive musicianship, Gansch demonstrated a much stronger level of artistry than her colleagues and basically walked off with the show.

Christina Gansch (Dorinda) stole the show in SFOpera's
production of Orlando (Photo by: Cory Weaver)

* * * * * * * * *
Not every love triangle has a happy ending. Sometimes a person's lonely, embittered soul can espy a relatively happy but seemingly unattainable mate and (subconsciously or unconsciously) set about poisoning its target's heart and soul with thoughts that are neither jealous nor malicious. What may have begun as a moment of misguided infatuation soon takes on the appearance of a parasitic neediness which, out of loneliness, despair, and desperation, recognizes no emotional boundaries.

John Melis (Giorgio) and Heather Orth (Fosca)
in a scene from Passion (Photo by: Jay Yamada)

Thus, when a soldier assigned to a remote Italian village in 1863 catches the eye of a severely depressed, physically unattractive woman suffering from an undiagnosed physical ailment (who was humped and dumped by a callous playboy who gambled away her family's fortune), it should surprise no one that her neediness grows increasingly toxic. Such is the case with the unfortunate Fosca (Heather Orth), who spots Giorgio (John Melis) through a window as he arrives at his new military post and quickly concludes that he's not like the boorish men under the command of her cousin, Colonel Ricci (Domonic Tracy).

Juliana Lustenader (Clara) and John Melis (Giorgio)
in a scene from Passion (Photo by: Jay Yamada)

Upon his arrival, Giorgio is already very much in love with Clara (Juliana Lustenader), a young mother living in Rome who has never shown any desire to leave the security of her marriage in order to run away with her lover. As Passion (a 1994 musical with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim and book by James Lapine) begins, Giorgio and Clara are coping with the news that he must soon leave Rome to report for his new assignment. As a result, their seemingly conventional love affair will have to be kept alive through written correspondence while he is away, leaving both lovers vulnerable to outside influences.

Juliana Lustenader (Clara) and John Melis (Giorgio)
in a scene from Passion (Photo by: Jay Yamada)

Passion made its Broadway debut on May 19, 1994 at the Plymouth Theatre with a cast headed by Donna Murphy (Fosca), Jere Shea (Giorgio), and Marin Mazzie (Clara). Although Patti LuPone had been offered the role of Fosca, she instead chose to star in the world premiere of Andrew Lloyd Webber's new musical, Sunset Boulevard, in London. As Passion approaches the 25th anniversary of its Broadway premiere (which ran for 280 performances and won the Tony Award for Best Musical), San Francisco's Custom Made Theatre is presenting it in a production directed by Stuart Bousel with set design by Bernadette Flynn, costumes by Kathleen Qui, and lighting by Tina Johnson.

The male chorus for Passion (Photo by: Jay Yamada)

Unlike some of Sondheim's more grandiose scores (Follies, Pacific Overtures, Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street), Passion is essentially a chamber opera with a small chorus of military men and two women (Amy Alvino and Kelly Rubinsohn) doubling as maids and minor characters in the plot. Sondheim fanatics will pick up on musical motifs whose roots can be traced back to scenes between Ben and Sally in 1971's Follies and the score for 1987's Into the Woods.

Although recordings of Passion have been made with the original Broadway (1994), London (1997), Dutch (2004), and off-Broadway (2013) casts, the one I would really love to hear is the 2012 recording of the entire show in German which was scored for a full symphony orchestra and performed by the cast from the Dresden State Operetta. With far fewer financial resources and a tiny theatre, Custom Made's production relies on a trio of musicians (conductor Brian Allan Hobbs on piano, Sheldon Brown on woodwinds, and Ami Nashimoto on cello). While this tiny ensemble does a reasonable job with a reduced orchestration, I cannot even begin to comprehend why sound designer Anton Hedman saw fit to amplify the calls of a military bugle to the grotesquely aggressive level of a boat horn.

Though the role of Clara fills a necessary function, Passion's true love story is the one that insidiously grows and festers in Fosca's mind until (aided and abetted by the misguided Doctor Tombourri), it begins to consume the good-hearted Giorgio, who discovers that his new, complex, relationship with a strangely unattractive and medically doomed woman is far more interesting, challenging, and perhaps even dangerous than the blandness that increasingly seems to be Clara's chief asset.

John Melis (Giorgio) and Heather Orth (Fosca)
in a scene from Passion (Photo by: Jay Yamada)

In this production, John Melis and Heather Orth deliver beautifully layered performances as a soldier (who learns that there's a lot more to life than taking orders) and a frustrated, lonely woman audiences could easily grow to hate. In smaller roles, Jake Gleason portrays the meddling Tombourri (whose patient seems to be dying of emotional improvement) while Carl Lucania doubles as Fosca's father and the company cook, Lombardi. Zaya Kolia shines as the greasy Count Ludovic. Others in the ensemble include Roy Eikleberry (Torosso), Max Seijas (Rizzoli), and Micah Watterson (Barri).

Performances of Passion continue through July 20 at the Custom Made Theatre (click here for tickets). Here's a brief clip from the sitzprobe.

No comments: