BWW Reviews: OSCAR East Coast Premiere at Opera Philadelphia

That it took until this decade for a composer to recognize that the life of Oscar Wilde was the stuff of grand opera - meteoric rise to fame, disastrous love affair, disgrace, and death, all played out in the public eye of late Victorian London - is actually embarrassing. However, Theodore Morrison awakened to the point, and in 2003 unveiled, at Santa Fe (a joint collaboration of Santa Fe and Opera Philadelphia), OSCAR, an opera based on Wilde's fall from grace.

It has now premiered in Philadelphia, at the Academy of Music, Opera Philadelphia's home base, and it must be noted immediately that it was composed by Morrison with David Daniels in mind for the part. Now, there is no doubt that Daniels is one of the great countertenors of the current decade (this author confesses partiality to Andreas Scholl). However, countertenors are either loved or loathed as a class, and while Daniels was in some of his best form, there was strong sentiment among some who heard it against a countertenor lead. Truly, Oscar Wilde seems a baritone part if anything, highlighting his grandiloquence, but a countertenor opera it is, and no time is spared giving the lead most of the singing time (perhaps to slight excess).

One of the most "right" things about OSCAR is not operatic at all, but dance. Reed Luplau, a fine modern dancer, plays Lord Alfred "Bosie" Douglas, Wilde's reckless and feckless lover, as a mute dance part - ideal, since he dwells in Oscar's imagination only throughout the production. Luplau is a joy to watch, though his performance is such as to make one wonder how well many other dancers might perform the part. Luplau, as Wilde's fantasy of his lover, also transfigures into other roles, especially in the second act during Wilde's incarceration, where he is a mute and menacing doctor, and then, eerily but magnificently, the Grim Reaper. Given Bosie's notoriously foul treatment of Wilde, and his later denunciation of his former lover and their relationship, the transformations are clearly apropos, though one wonders if Wilde would have perceived them at the time.

Evan Rogister, who also conducted at Santa Fe, produced a sound from the orchestra that was notable for its excellent use of percussion while not sounding overtly "modern." Other sections, perhaps brass in particular, fared less well. Overall, however, the conducting and the orchestra were satisfactory, particularly underlying the singing; the incidental music is more a question of the composition than of Rogister's or the orchestra's performance. As with much modern opera, it is more tonal than lyrical or melodic, which may seem off given just how period this piece is.

Heidi Stober was well suited to the part of Ada Leverson, "Sphinx," one of Wilde's closest friends and supporters. Their duets in the Leverson nursery, where Ada is housing Wilde during his trial, are some of the most charming moments in the production. Stober's lyrical voice and expression make her a perfect choice for the worried, mothering, Leverson. The toys seen in the background of the nursery in that scene return to become giant living courtroom participants during the trial, including the judge, who emerges from the jack-in-the-box.

The courtroom scene however is a bit Alice-in-Wonderland, and one waits for the Jack of Hearts to be put on trial. Wilde's lesser affections ran towards youngish rough trade, and Lewis Carroll is now viewed as having suspicious affections towards young women, including actress Ellen Tracy (Wilde was a friend of her contemporary Lillie Langtry); if there was not an intentional parallel there, one can still not avoid seeing it, and it is distracting. If the scene was meant to say that the trial was a mockery, a comedy, perhaps it could be evoked better in another form.

The trial itself might make a fascinating vocal piece, as it was noted at the time for the eloquence of its jurists, including Wilde's counsel, Sir Edward Carson. The handling of the trial seems a bit of a cheat, with nothing but the mockery of a sentencing and none of the drama of the real encounter. While Schober as Leverson and William Burden's strong Frank Harris (newspaperman, friend of Wilde, and Wilde's literary executor) are fine parts, perhaps there should have been a serious trial scene to enhance the gravity of the matter?

Act Two centers around Wilde's time in jail, which ultimately broke his health and led to his death. This seems far better handled, and the setting of The Ballad of Reading Gaol to music, sung by a prisoner chorus, makes one wonder why this has not been done previously. If anything, OSCAR makes one long for a Wilde song cycle.

The wisdom of having Walt Whitman (Dwayne Croft, a gifted performer) narrating the opera is dubious. Wilde and Whitman met once, when Wilde visited America on a lecture tour. Whitman was a published poet when Wilde was a child, and other than their sexuality, they have little in common, although one could go on a very general tangent about the art (Alfred Douglas was a poet) and sexual identities of Wilde, Whitman, and Douglas that would not serve the opera per se.

The faults lie not in the stars - the performers, who all delivered excellent performances - but in the book and lyrics. On the one hand, there are quite brilliant moments, especially in the prison, in Act Two, where we see Wilde, who had always lived in privilege, develop a social conscience. On the other hand, scenes like the sentencing and Whitman's narrations seem discomfiting, and Morrison's lifting up Wilde as a social crusader and human rights activist feels spurious. Wilde was a victim of a horrendously repressive culture and legal system, and though he did contribute directly, through his writing, to prisoner relief in England, in regard to his sexuality and his legal condemnation for it, he is far more martyr than hero.

There will inevitably -- from dance to musical use - be comparisons to Britten in Morrison's construction. If the modeling on Britten's form in DEATH IN VENICE was intentional, there could be far worse models to choose.

The production itself was superbly costumed and set-designed, with some adjustments made to the set from Santa Fe due to the vast differences in stages for the two opera companies. Daniels, Stober, and Burden were in fine form, and Burden made Harris's tremendously complex part sound easy. Luplau's work is positively breathtaking.

OSCAR is an opera that still seems in need of development in the book, but it is a visual feast, from the set to Luplau's performance. Daniels, Stober, and Burden are tremendously fine performers, and all three were indeed at their best. Opera Philadelphia's dedication to new opera is commendable, and its casting (all major performers having been in the Santa Fe production) excellent. This was a far superior production, overall, to last season's disappointing AINADAMAR. Although there are certainly some major historical liberties in OSCAR, one could hardly get every fact, especially of his imprisonment, into one opera.

Overall, the effect is of a magnificent, splendidly accoutered, wonderfully sung production of a work in development. With the right choices in further development, this could be a regularly produced work if one can find the countertenors for it (otherwise it will be one more piece only performed by the muse who engendered it; great countertenors hardly fall from trees); without it, it may continue as an occasional curiosity. The option is up to Morrison, and likely to Philadelphia and Santa Fe. One hopes they make the choice to continue working with it.

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