“Il Trovatore” Composed by Giuseppe Verdi
Dorothy Chandler Pavilion
When an opera is on the list of standards for operatic
repertoire, artists may find themselves looking for ways to give it
a personal spin while preserving the originality of the piece. The
Los Angeles Opera’s current production of “Il
Trovatore” at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion attempts to do
just that.
When audience members first enter the hall, they find a set
filled with swords stuck into the ground and two soldiers lying
dead on stage.
The opera follows the basic plotline of love, unknown identity
and, of course, a tragic ending. Two brothers, Manrico (Franco
Farina) and Count di Luna (Roberto Frontali), who do not know of
their relationship, fall for the same woman, Leonora (Sondra
Radvanovsky).
While each attempts to carry out his plot to bring the downfall
of the other in hopes of marrying Leonora, a gypsy by the name of
Azucena (Dolora Zajick) appears to claim revenge on one of the
brothers for the death of her mother.
Although the two men may have the larger roles, it is clearly
the performances of the women, Radvanovsky and Zajick, that prove
to be the saving grace for the opera. Their voices are powerful,
but during certain points they are incredibly bittersweet. Loud
applause and “bravos” could be heard multiple times
after the end of pieces sung by Radvanovsky, and rightly so. She
has a versatile voice with an unbelievable range.
Zajick also does an amazing job playing a believable gypsy who
seems to be a bit crazy. When both Azucena’s own son and
Manrico were children, she mistakenly threw her son into a fire
instead of Manrico. With a voice filled with sadness as she tells
her story, audience members pity her rather than think of her as a
villain.
The men do not seem to hold their own against the women.
Although the plot is based upon the two male characters, without
the voices of Radvanovsky and Zajick, the opera would not be worth
the drive downtown.
The set design has a medieval feel to it and is very creative.
But there were a few long pauses during set changes, and instances
when audience members got up thinking it was time for
intermission.
The choreography is a bit repetitive and gets boring after a
while, but it’s quite impressive during the infamous
“Anvil Chorus,” as the striking of swords takes the
part of the clanking made by the percussion section.
While “Il Trovatore” may be a standard and the
company has put a lot into taking the original and running with it,
the best reason to go may be just to hear the voices of Radvanovsky
and Zajick.
-Laura Morgan
“Iphigenia” Written by Michael Hackett
Sunset Canyon Recreation Center
At the outset of the UCLA theater department’s production
of “Iphigenia,” writer/director/composer Michael
Hackett wryly notes that his offering has the
“dubious,” or otherwise “good,” distinction
of being both the prequel and sequel to “Troy.”
In that regard, Hackett, a UCLA professor of theater, is right.
The action of “Iphigenia,” based on two classical
plays, “Iphigenia in Aulis” and “Iphigenia in
Tauris,” by Greek playwright Euripides, takes place before
and after the Trojan War.
But in all respects, Hackett’s “Iphigenia”
resides worlds away from the commercial star-vehicle proposition
that is Wolfgang Peterson’s blockbuster movie.
Hackett’s effort is undoubtedly spectacular in its own way,
though one may argue for or against the choice to stage it outdoors
at the Sunset Canyon Recreation Center (certainly a breezy and
perhaps authentic choice, but at times one which seemed to dwarf
individual actors as they struggled to project adequately).
The main difference here is that as part of a five-year ongoing
program called “The Chorus Project,” Hackett has chosen
to tell and structure his story through a series of 20 choric
sequences featuring a sizable cast of, well, not thousands, but a
good 40 actors.
There are no “stars” per se in this production
because the accent is clearly on teamwork as the ensemble works
together to create a complex and heady mix of chant and ritual,
dance and spoken word poetry. The entire ensemble, both male
and female, is attired in matching Greek togas, with the
“lead” characters, distinguished by the addition of,
say, a crown or a single simple accessory. Occasionally, actors
would take turns to play key characters (as with interchanging
actors taking turns to play the heroine Iphigenia in select
sequences), further blurring the line between character and
chorus.
If one had to pick a star on a night when many were shining
overhead in the night sky, it would have to be the maestro himself,
Hackett. From the moment he finishes introducing the performance,
Hackett turns to sit down, reaches for what looks like a tabla (one
of a variety of percussive hand instruments he uses throughout the
night), and begins to beat out the pulse of the play. In this
sense, the director continues to physically preside over the soul
of the piece ““ both as heartbeat to the action and as
conductor of the score.
The involvement of The American Indian Dance Theatre, and the
resulting intertwining of American Indian music and dance within
the stoic structure of the Greek chorus, adds significantly to the
ritualistic, spiritual feel of the evening’s performance
““ a kinetic meld of cultures different yet somehow
similar.
The standout segment of the night comes early ““ a stunning
stop-start sequence that perfectly encapsulates the mounting unrest
of Agamemnon’s troops as they wait to set sail from Aulis.
The use of the choric chant underscores the universal, repetitive,
cyclical nature of human tragedy and the human condition.
At moments last Saturday night, the improvised percussive
impulses of the performance bordered on indulgent and meandered
into moments of Jim Morrison-like psychedelia, Ã la the Lizard
King, and something resembling an Indian summer Pow Wow in ancient
Greece. Strange, but actually not necessarily a bad thing.
-Alex Wen