Review: Orth-Moscovitch Stunning MADHOUSE Tells of Women Past the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown at Opera Philadelphia Festival O23

When composer Rene Orth came across the story of investigative reporter Nellie Bly’s expose of the abuse of women at an asylum in New York at the end of the 19th century, she immediately knew that “this story needed to be told as an opera.”

She was right.

The result of her efforts, with the first-rate creative team of librettist Hannah Moscovitch, director Joanna Settle and conductor Daniela Candillari, and the stellar leading singers soprano Kiera Duffy and mezzo Raehann Bryce-Davis, is 10 DAYS IN A MADHOUSE. This 90-minute work opened the latest iteration of Opera Philadelphia’s festival (this year, called O23) with its world premiere at the Wilma Theatre.

Her standout score, with its distinctive voice that blends a modern take—sometimes jazzy, sometimes somewhat atonal or other times pure--for chamber ensemble, with electronic elements that fit easily into the more traditional aspects of the music. They are able to bring out the more tortured moments of the action in a quite natural, humanist way. She was ably abetted by the sound design of Robert Kaplowitz and Chris Sannino.

While Orth never appears to take the easy way out in her musical composition, we never for a moment wonder “what was she thinking?” in the way the music, both vocal and straightforwardly instrumental, reaches us. Maestro Candillari brought it across with a commanding hold on her musicians and support for the singers.

She was lucky, of course, to have such a fine cast, headed by soprano Duffy as Bly who skillfully walks the fine line between pretended madness and actually falling prey to a prognosis of madness thrust upon her by the asylum. Perhaps even more importantly, is Bryce-Davis as Lizzie, a long-time resident in the institution on NY’s Blackwell’s Island when the reporter has managed to bluff her way inside to expose the horrors of the women incarcerated, whose grief over the death of her child has been (mis)labeled madness. Her aria to her dead child may be the pinnacle of Orth’s score.

Which was worse: Being Bly and knowing how easily her possible insanity was accepted or Lizzie, who has accepted that the grief she is experiencing is not a normal reaction to her troubled life? The two singers ably show off the nuances of their characters, both musically and dramatically.

Will Liverman’s smaller role as Dr Josiah Blackwell, head of the asylum, is luxury casting for a performer singing major roles at the Met (including Malcolm X this November). He is not really portrayed as the “heavy” in the piece because he seems to believe in his work, whether or not it was justified. That task goes to soprano Lauren Pearl as the asylum’s matron/nurse who sends a chill through the air with her earthy sound and dire personality.

The members of the chorus, led by Elizabeth Braden, should also get a shout-out, as key to making the asylum come to life.

They, of course, could not have made their impressions without Moscovitch’s thoughtful and penetrating libretto, which (mostly) tells the story in reverse, from the 10th day back to Bly’s arrival, followed by a coda presented by Bly. The story is not reportage on its own, and the characterizations are built with a combination of Bly’s expose and the librettist’s fiction. It is quite remarkable that the creators have used such economy of musical language to bring the story across in a mere 90 minutes.

Performed at the small Wilma Theatre, there is a claustrophobic feeling to the production emphasized by Andrew Lieberman’s set and lighting, in which the chamber orchestra and conductor Candillari loom above the action. While sometimes the lack of playing area gives the performance a produced-on-a-shoestring feeling, it also helps portray the loss of freedom that the inmates have experienced.

The rest of the production team did able work in setting the piece’s mood, including Asta Hostetter and Avery Reed’s costumes and Faustin Lunyekula’s choreography, which did remarkably well in the cramped stage area.

The madness—or supposed madness—of women has long been a highlight of the operatic repertoire. 10 DAYS IN A MADHOUSE makes us wonder about how a famous aria like LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR’s “mad scene” might have been viewed if those around her had shown compassion rather than fear, understanding instead of rushing to judgment.

Photo: Dominic M. Mercier/Opera Philadelphia

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