by Claudio Monteverdi
Directed by Marshall Pynkoski
An Opera Atelier Production
at the Elgin Theatre
October 27, 28, 30 and
November 1-3, 2007

   It’s not unfair to complain that the baroque opera style (or, more properly, the baroque opera-ballet) takes all the dangerous wildness out of Ulysses’ epic tale. One of the defining features of baroque is very slightly varied repetition; another is symmetry—and both are hardly the stuff of Homeric narrative. Moreover, there is an intrinsic element of the civilized about the dancing, and the posturing singers are more pictorial than strangely exciting. Monteverdi reduces epical drama to recitatives, ensembles, and arias, in what seems to be an early attempt at spoken song. Then, too, Marshall Pynkoski holds his company to strict period conventions (from thunder sheets to musical instruments and performing style), never seeking to depart from orthodox tradition in interpretation. So, his production of Monteverdi’s rarely seen opera (based on the second-half—Books 13-24—of Homer’s The Odyssey) observes all the niceties of baroque opera-ballet without showing any bold advances in mode. Of course, it takes bravery to adhere to centuries-old convention—and technical skill—and both qualities are evident in the production.

   Giacomo Badoaro’s libretto follows Ulysses’ progress home to Ithaca after a twenty year-absence, where (in disguise as a beggar) is reunited with his son Telemaco and his faithful wife Penelope who has resourcefully foiled her insistent, vulgar suitors. The ending of the tale consists of Ulysses rising like a phoenix from the ashes of Troy, wreaking vengeance against the suitors and finally convincing Penelope that he is, indeed, her long-lost husband. However, the libretto tends toward allegory by a Prologue where a character named Human Frailty is taunted by Time, Fortune, and Love, and where such Frailty is linked to both Penelope and Ulysses who suffer the vagaries of Time, Fortune, and Love. As in Homer, there are divinities who take an active part in the drama, for Neptune and Jove debate the fate of the Phaeacian sailors who have disobeyed Neptune’s command by returning Ulysses to his homeland. Then, too, the goddess Minerva appears in disguise as a shepherd boy who makes several important revelations to the wandering hero. Minerva at one point even conducts Telemaco (who has gone in search of his father) back to Ithaca in her chariot. At a climactic point in the story, Ulysses strings his massive bow successfully and, after invoking Jove and Minerva with cries for vengeance, slays the evil suitors.

   Because of cuts in the libretto and score, the running time of the production is slightly under three hours, with some doubling of roles. This produces an economy in a presentation that is otherwise colourful and clever—as in Gerard Gauci’s trompe l’oeil sets and painted seascapes, Dora Rust D’Eye’s costumes, and Kevin Fraser’s lighting. David Fallis conducts The Toronto Consort beautifully, and the singers do vocal justice to the piece, beginning with a strong opening by Olivier Laquerre as Human Frailty and continuing with Vicki St. Pierre’s Eurycleia, Jennie Such’s Melanto, Christopher Temporelli’s Neptune, soprano Carla Huhtanen as Minerva, and tenor Lawrence Wiliford’s Eumaeus. Of the three suitors, I like bass-baritone Curtis Sullivan best as Antinous because of a bold stage presence and vocal depth. Indeed, the only weakness to my ear is in Cory Knight’s Telemaco because, though neatly phrased, his voice needs to be brought forward more decisively. Olivier Laquerre is a fine Ulysses, though not a super-fine one. Vocally a bit raw, he could also use variety in his acting. Stephanie Novacek, however, is first-rate as Penelope, regal, composed, and crafty, trusting of the gods yet skeptical of humans.

   Opera Atelier is noted for its ballets, and though the choreography has usually been narrow and unadventurous, this time Jeannette Zingg’s choreography works sensuously and appropriately, and the dancers (with a standout performance from Jeremy Nasmith) move from one mood to another, one vocabulary to another with admirable facility and grace.