When attending a production by one of the myriad small, independent opera Companies in New York, it’s always a bit of a crapshoot. When I go to one of these things, I try and play by an old Irish saying: “If you’re expecting a kick in the balls, a slap in the face is a victory.” Unfortunately, my time at the New York Metro Vocal Arts Ensemble production of food themed operas, titled À La Carte, fell lower than my lowest expectations.
When I arrived at Baruch College, I found myself stuffed into a small black box theater obviously not intended for musical performance. Were all the churches in Manhattan booked this weekend?
Staging Bach’s Coffee Cantata is always a perilous task; the libretto doesn’t really suit a staging, the “drama” itself isn’t really that dramatic, and the music is better performed without characterization. NYMVAE’s production, heavy on the shtick, achieved a few genuinely funny moments, but that sadly was not enough to redeem singing that was the polar opposite of what is appropriate for Bach.
As much as the “character” of Schlendrian is a basso buffo, the music is Bach and should be sung as such, not like Antonio from Nozze di Figaro. C. David Morrow‘s wobbly, weathered and beaten voice could be viable as the drunkest of old men, which director John Schenkel oddly decided Schlendrian would be. Elizabeth Munn‘s Lizzie was childishly cute, but also childishly sung, with an anonymous timbre and a strained, thin top. As the Narrator, portrayed here as a lusty waiter, Timothy Thomas has a raspy and forced tenor, but was the comedic highlight of the evening, bumbling in his service to Schlendrian and Lizzie.
The second piece, a new work titled The Art of Eating based off the M.F.K. Fisher book, composed by Jeffrey Lependorf with a libretto by Joseph Goodrich, also failed to hold interest. Soprano Christine Cornell‘s pretty voice lacked unique character or intensity. Baritone Adam Menninga offered a quality voice limited in range and color.
The premise of the piece is actually kind of cute: Fisher finds an out of the way café in the French countryside while on her walking tour. The chef, while admitting that his restaurant isn’t technically open for the season, treats her to a lunch of divine quality. They share something special, and sadly must leave to pursue their own lives and passions. Unfortunately, Lependorf’s music is bland and derivative, with overly quirky vocal writing, and the pace of the work is simply out of proportion, with long stretches of dull material relieved by short bursts of interest.
Lastly, please, don’t ask a soprano sing with a mouth full of endive. It’s revolting.
Why not do this sort of production? Most of the people in the audience seemed happy with the evening, and the performers seemed to be enjoying themselves greatly. If they had billed themselves as an amateur group, I still wouldn’t have liked the production much, but I would at least have had the joy of seeing people doing what they love to do
My biggest disagreement is with the presentation of the company as “professional,” because it’s not on that level. The $25 ticket price is higher than a Family Circle ticket at the Met, yet there was little enjoyment throughout the course of the night.
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