Also this issue:

Raising the Bar
A look at Philly watering holes that offer more than just drinks to local artists.
-Susan Hagen

Tree of Life
In Project Room's latest installation, Keiko Miyamori captures the spirit of the neighborhood in the roots of one of its trees.
-Robin Rice

Wig Out
-Ashlea Halpern

Private Eyes
-Lori Hill

Eat, Shorts
-Debra Auspitz

July 12-18, 2002

opera

Lucretia Morte

David Shengold

The Rape of LucretiaThrough July 21, Opera Festival of New Jersey, McCarter Theatre, 91 University Place, Princeton, N.J., 609-258-ARTS

Benjamin Britten’s striking 1946 music drama makes demands on its audience: Ronald Duncan’s text gets overwrought (and over-fraught with a Christian framework not consonant with the pre-Christian Roman setting), and the music, while often gorgeous, is subtle and layered rather than “tuneful.” Renaud Doucet’s production for the Opera Festival of New Jersey has some weaknesses -- gratuitous video projections of Hiroshima and police violence, presumably to remind us that Evil Is Still With Us -- but enough power that, given the fine cast and orchestra, led by David Agler, Lucretia makes for an evening worth the (easy) trip to Princeton.

As the virtuous heroine, distinguished singing actress Phyllis Pancella makes typically bold choices, forgoing passive "noble" stereotypes; her Lucretia is passionate, both in contemplating her husband Collatinus' return from war and in trying to fight off Tarquinius' attack with physical prowess and desperate resolve. Pancella colors the text with skill and understanding, and her death scene (though marred by a pretentious costume) is notably well-judged by artist and director both. Her singing proves attractive, though ultimately the music wants a deeper, more resonant instrument.

David Adam Moore, another buff "barihunk," makes a credible Tarquinius (the Etruscan overlord of Rome's spoiled son, the quintessential lustful jock unquestioning of privilege), singing with energy and refined dynamics. Lucretia's key roles are the sometimes moralizing, sometimes meddling narrators. Jeffrey Picón, though manifestly a gifted lyric tenor, shows a comparatively weak lower range in the male chorus' music. With crisp diction and a rich, stirring soprano, Joslin Romphf's female chorus provides the outstanding vocalism of the evening.

With them, Lauren Curnow (Bianca) makes the third Curtis-trained singer onstage. Though well made-up and acting capably, Curnow bears the burden of youth as the aged nurse, and like her mistress fields a pleasant mezzo where a starker contralto timbre would help. Thea Tullman's pretty Lucia, apt if initially thin of voice, makes for suitable contrast. Both fine singers, bass Scott Altman (Collatinus) and baritone Andrew Krikawa (the ambitious, treacherous Junius, outfit styled out of Buck Rogers Meets Genghis Khan) provide lively, nuanced support.

André Barbe's Wit-inspired "figure eight" hospital curtain has some promise, though Doucet doesn't utilize it consistently to delineate space. With the two exceptions noted, Barbe's costumes are excellent, as is Helena Kuukka's evocative lighting.