Arts & Events

West Edge Opera last week staged Alban Berg’s Lulu in Oakland’s abandoned Wood Street train station; and this week they’ve staged Claudio Monteverdi’s Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria (Ulysses’ Return to His Homeland) at American Steel Studios on Oakland’s Mandela Parkway. While American Steel turned out to be less magical a site for opera than the abandoned and decaying train station, nonetheless the acoustics at American Steel were excellent. Further, West Edge General Director Mark Streshinsky, who doubled as stage director for Ulysses, utilized the space at American Steel quite imaginatively, placing the 9-piece orchestra amidst a raised and stepped U-shaped platform on which the singers performed, while the audience was seated around three sides of the U-shaped platform. On the wall behind the stage area were hung at one time or another various large photos – of the sea, a pasture with sheep, a painting depicting Ulysses drawing his bow, another painting depicting Queen Penelope, etc. 

Claudio Monteverdi set opera on its feet with his groundbreaking Orfeo of 1607, which was first performed at the court of Duke Vincenzo Gonzaga at Mantua. Monteverdi quickly followed the success of Orfeo with another opera the next year, Arianna, of which latter there remains, to our great loss, only the famous and lovely lamento d’Arianna. Later, shortly after Duke Vincenzo’s death in 1612, Monteverdi left Manua in 1613 to take up the post of maestro di cappella at St. Mark’s basilica in Venice, where he served for the rest of his life. When the first commercial opera houses opened in Venice in the late 1630s, Monteverdi’s operas were a staple of their repertory. Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria opened at Venice’s Teatro San Moisè in 1640, and it quickly became the century’s most successful opera. Giacomo Badoaro wrote the libretto, basing it on Books 13-23 of Homer’s Odyssey, which tell of the return of Ulysses (Odysseus) to Ithaca after years of storm-tossed wandering at the mercy of Neptune (Poseidon), who resented Ulysses’ blinding of the sea-god’s son, Polyphemus the Cyclops.  

For West Edge Opera, Mark Streshinsky made many cuts in Alan Curtis’s edition of the score of Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria. Streshinsky omitted the opera’s Prologue, rearranged many scenes, eliminated several secondary characters, and cut some of the work’s ritornelli, or instrumental connecting passages, thereby creating a slimmed-down version of Monteverdi’s opera. (It runs 1 hour and 40 minutes, not the 2 ½ hours mistakenly cited by Joshua Kosman.) Streshinsky also utilized a reduced orchestra with only plucked and string instruments. Conductor Gilbert Martinez led the orchestra from one of two harpsichords, while Daniel Zuluaga was featured on theorbo and Cheryl Ann Fulton on Italian baroque harp. 

When West Edge Opera’s Ulysses gets under way, Neptune, powerfully sung by bass Aaron Sörensen, hurls Ulysses through a storm at sea. Minerva (Athena), brilliantly sung by mezzo-soprano Kindra Scharich, begs Jupiter (Zeus), ably sung by tenor Gary Ruschman, to intercede on behalf of Ulysses and persuade Neptune to allow the forlorn hero to return at long last to his homeland. Ulysses then awakens on a beach, bitter and confused. He is, he sings, stranded on a deserted shore, “misero, abbandonato.” Though the role of Ulysses is written for a tenor with baritonal capabilities, in West Edge Opera’s production Ulysses is sung by baritone Nickolas Nackley, who combines robust power when it is called for and sensitively delicate vocalism in the intimate scenes of recognition, first with his son Telemaco, and, finally, with his wife, Penelope. When Minerva appears to Ulysses, she assures him he has landed in Ithaca, assures him of Penelope’s faithfulness, and she also instructs him to disguise himself as an old beggar and seek out first his old friend Eumete, who has left the court in disgust at the behavior of the suitors and now works tending sheep. Minerva is sung by Kindra Scharich, whose high mezzo-soprano contrasts sharply with the much lower mezzo-soprano of Sara Couden, who sings Penelope. At each of Minerva’s instructions, Ulysses interjects, “O fortunato Ulisse,” a direct anticipation of the aria to come. Minerva also tells Ulysses to stay with his friend Eumete till she returns with Telemaco, the now-grown son of Ulysses, who has gone seeking news of his father in Sparta. Scharich’s bright, well focused singing was a highlight of this opera.  

Following Minerva’s guidance, Ulysses finds Eumete among his sheep, basking in the simple joys of pastoral life after the corruptions of life at court. Eumete is here ably sung by tenor Michael Desnoyers. Only the presence of a gluttonous courtier, Iro, troubles the bucolic life of Eumete. Iro, sung by tenor Ted Zoldan, is a superbly wrought comical character, perhaps the first in opera history. Iro’s stuttering is delightfully penned by Monteverdi, who parodies his own madrigalesque style, replacing beautifully sung words with comical grunts, cackles and groans that reveal Iro’s animal-like character. Eumete angrily shoos Iro away. When Ulysses appears disguised as a beggar, he does not reveal his true identity to Eumete but assures him that Ulysses will soon appear in Ithaca to reclaim his wife and kingdom. 

Soon Minerva returns, bringing Telemaco to Ithaca in a winged chariot. When Telemaco arrives in Eumete’s pasture, he is told that his father will soon return. Overjoyed at this news, Telemaco sends Eumete to inform his mother, Penelope, to await the imminent arrival of Ulisse. Once alone with Telemaco, Ulisse sheds his disguise and greets his son. After a moment’s disbelief, Telemaco, movingly sung by mezzo-soprano Johanna Bronk, rushes to embrace his long-lost father in an emotional reunion. Thus ends Act I. 

After intermission, Act II in this production begins with a scene that usually occurs at the opera’s outset in most productions. Penelope, alone with one of her servants, sings of her suffering and anxiety. She also vows to remain faithful to her husband Ulisse. Eumete arrives and tells Penelope that Telemaco is back and that there is news of Ulisse’s imminent return. Penelope greets this news with wary skepticism. She has heard such rumors many times before. Why should she believe them now? As Penelope, mezzo-soprano Sara Couden has a voice so deep she might pass for a contralto. Nonetheless, she sang with great feeling and conviction. Vocally and dramatically, Sara Couden was very credible as a much-aggrieved Penelope. Her suitors, here reduced to three, feel threatened by Telemaco’s return and redouble their wooing of Penelope, offering her gifts of gold. The suitors – Anfinomo, Antinoo, and Pisandro – are sung, respectively, by tenor Jonathan Smucker, bass Aaron Sörensen, and tenor Gary Ruschman. The music for their wooing is florid and overly ornamental. Penelope is unmoved.  

Iro joins the three suitors, and all are horrified to find an aged beggar in their midst. Penelope offers hospitality to the beggar (Ulysses in disguise), and she proclaims that she will marry anyone who can successfully draw Ulysses’ famous bow. The stuttering, gluttonous fool, Iro, is the first to try, and of course he fails miserably, then goes off to whine in a corner. Next all three suitors try in vain. Now the beggar steps forward, draws the bow, and shoots down all three suitors in turn. Iro mutters that he has just lost his meal ticket. Who will fill his belly now, he wonders? Telemaco and Eumete tell Penelope that this apparently aged beggar is in fact Ulisse, but Penelope is as yet unconvinced. Ulisse sheds his disguise, but Penelope wants further proof. Ulisse sings in recitative of the bedcover woven by Penelope with the image of the goddess Diana; and with this bit of intimate knowledge, he convinces Penelope that he is indeed her husband. Now Penelope sings her first true aria of the opera, “Illustratevi o cieli,” which features an instru-mental ritornello that occurs between Penelope’s vocal lines rather than simultan-eously with them. By this device, Monteverdi suggests that, for Penelope, her husband’s return – symbolized by the ritornello – is still, as it were, ‘between the lines’ until husband and wife finally embrace, which they do at last in the closing duet, thus bringing Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria to a happy end.  

While I regret not hearing all of Monteverdi’s magically emotive music in this abbreviated version of Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria, I must admit that there is a certain logic – and a succinct narrative flow – to Mark Streshinsky’s production of this opera. It moves along at a goodly pace, maintaining the keen interest of the audience at every step, bringing us close to both the Homeric era of ancient Greece and the musically revolutionary era of 17^th century Venice.