With ears fully saturated by Atlanta’s heavy dose of Wagner (rumor has it Waltrauto attended every performance of Die Walkure), I traveled to Mormon Country seeking the perfect palate cleanser in the form of Utah Opera’s production of Massenet’s Thaïs. My gracious host, composer, local critic and Viardot-vs-Grisi contributor Chris Myers also served as insider source into the Salt Lake City music scene. Alongside spirited discussion of the May 10th and May 12th performances of Thaïs, Chris caught me up on the potential demise of Abravanel Hall (don’t do it, Mayor Wilson!) at his favorite dive bar, Salt Lake City’s historic LGBTQ+ watering hole, Try Angles (remember to tip Kevin, he’s a doll).
Despite its solid arts scene, Utah has not been a prominent stop in my pilgrimage itinerary. Notwithstanding last year’s venture to UFO, my sole previous visit dates back to 2011, that year of innocence, when Utah Opera staged Beethoven’s Fidelio for Brenda Harris and a young Corey Bix. As a longtime resident of Atlanta, exposure to a community shaped by heavy religion elements and the polarization this can cause makes for both a familiar and altogether eye-opening experience. So as large crowds gathered at local temples to celebrate Mother’s Day, we happily joined the ranks of the remaining infidels filling the auditorium of the Janet Quinney Lawson Capitol Theatre, eager to witness a battle between mysticism and eroticism.
Originally scheduled to premiere in Utah in the latter part of its 2019-2020 season, this production of Massenet’s Thaïs joined the sea of cancellations perpetrated by the worldwide pandemic. Now rescheduled as the closer of the 2023-24 season, the production marked the opera’s premiere in Utah, though it makes its second entry in this blog. The brainchild of Stage Director Andrea Cigni and Scenic and Costume Designer Lorenzo Cutùli, the production illustrates the subtle tension between carnal sexuality and transcendental mysticism by way of contrast. The austerity of the Cenobite cave and the endless desert clashes against the decadence of Alexandria through a blend Beaux Arts and psychedelic Byzantine visuals. The effect is enticing, cleansing and often disorienting.
It made a big impression back in May 2018 when it was unveiled at the Minnesota Opera, and now, six years later and egged on by the presence of all these saints, it managed to pack a greater punch. Heidi Spesard-Noble’s choreography also found an amicable vehicle in the charismatic dancers of Repertory Dance Theatre (RDT) company, who bettered my recollection of the efforts of Minnesota’s Zenon Dance Company in projecting a grotesque and savage allure. RDT’s interpretation of Thaïs’ exquisite mediation, spearheaded by dancer Ursula Perry impersonating the soul of the sleeping Thaïs and guided by the pristine execution of concertmaster Madeline Adkins, lifted Thaïs’ soaring spirit and eventual crucifixion. Together, they elevated the already iconic scene into the emotional apex of the evening.
Leading the mighty forces of Utah Symphony, conductor Steven White maintained a disciplined pace and refused, as heard in the blunt pace of the orchestra interlude leading into the meditation and the briskly paced desert scene, to fully dwell in the score’s implied sentimentality. To balance things out, maestro White’s sober choices empowered him to fluctuate the predatory element between spirituality and sensuality that Massenet so brilliantly infused in the score, and successfully relished in the virtues of the famous meditation and several key scenes (Athanaël’s visions of Thaïs and the final duet for the principals were standouts) while allowing the forces in the pit to clock out precisely at the three-hour mark.
Since its premiere in Paris at the Opera Garnier in 1894, all presentations of Massenet’s Thaïs – bar none – live or die by the casting of a prima donna able to navigate the part’s vocal rigors underscored by an exotic sensuality. Massenet wrote the part to showcase the specific talents of Sybil Sanderson, the extraordinary American soprano who captured the imagination of the French public, as well as romantic yearnings in the married composer (the opera’s final scene can be enjoyed as a sort of public confession of Massenet’s). Subsequent exponents of the role have been few and far between, with Mary Garden taking over the role after Sanderson, her sole recording of the Act II soliloquy (L’amour es tune vertu rare) providing evidence of an elusive magnetism that fascinated Paris in the early 20th century. Modern productions outside France have been infamously jinxed, a struggle memorialized by two big budget recording ventures (with Anna Moffo and Beverly Sills respectively, both unsatisfactory). Bootleg evidence of a touring New Orleans Opera production featuring a scandalously topless Carol Neblett reveals stunning vocalism which would have surely ranked ideal, but no studio stepped up to capture it. The current reference – Renee Fleming’s – enjoys an unstable position due to the manicured artifice that permeates supreme. Enter Nicole Heaston, a lyric soprano making her role debut in these performances, who offered Salt Lake City audiences with as honest a reading of Thaïs as could be hoped for, likely due to a carefully manicured career trajectory which culminated in this triumphant debut.
A singer whose career I’ve kept tabs on since she dazzled Charleston as Principessa in Respighi’s rare gem La Bella Dormente nel Bosco at the Spoleto Festival back in 2005, Ms. Heaston (whether by choice or otherwise) pursued her destiny in regional companies (she was engaged at the Metropolitan in the 2000s but has not been back since). Away from the pressures of New York, she patiently honed her talents within the margins of the classical lyric fach, allowing her instrument to simmer and develop naturally. Around 2015 she began to make her move, gradually trading Nannetta and Susanna for Alice and the Countess. As heard on the performances of May 10th and May 12th, her Thaïs harvests a voice which has preserved a lyric facility and freshness, coupled with the maturity of a seasoned artist. Her leggiero soprano has graduated to full lyric dimensions, alluring and plaintive yet incisive and imposing whenever the score called for it – gleaming over the auditorium throughout its range. She is not immune from some of the Sanderson-inspired hurdles, which are prominent throughout the piece. The turn of the century diva was openly celebrated for her extraordinary upper extension (which gloriously capped at a high G), forcing Ms. Heaston to engage in tense negotiations to deliver at the top fortissimo. This was most evident during the opera’s final duet, a cruel test requiring the heroine to pierce the money tune heard during the meditation as the final statement in an evening of hard work. Dramatically, though her confrontation with Athanaël did not flatter Louis Gallet’s libretto (the prophet would be disappointed) she still projected full engagement in her assignment. Physically, she has maintained an alluring stage presence needed to embody the part within the boundaries of operatic convention. She remains an artist of great interest which I hope to encounter soon.
My history with her Athanaël, baritone Troy Cook, also goes back to the Spoleto Festival, this time in 2004, when he earned ovations as a charming Harlekin in Strauss’ Ariadne auf Naxos (an amazing production that took place at the Dock Street Theater in Charleston, which maybe seats 40 people. Y’all, check out Spoleto if you want to die of heat stroke but experience amazing music in the process). Like in the case of Ms. Heaston, his rap sheet has kept him within reasonable lyrical assignments, with the occasional excursion into girthier bel canto parts (he was a fine Cecil in Washington Concert Opera’s performance of Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda in 2013). Athanaël may rank as his most glamorous, beefiest role, artfully realized through the projection of a subtle, conflicted sensuality beneath the long priest robes and Jesus wig. Vocally, his baritone is gallant, penetrating and alluring, and was best heard in moments of deep introspection and solemn resolve, ranking more convincing when decrying his horrific realization of “Thaïs va morir” versus his revelation as “Athanaël the zealot” in Thaïs’ chambers. Essentially, his instrument is not a battleship, and though he still managed to call upon greater resources when necessary, the orchestral tidal wave contested its efficacy at times. At the end of the day, Massenet’s score always favors elegance, qualifying Mr. Cook’s ovations at curtain call as very well deserved.
Though the main focus of Thaïs revolves around two souls searching for a greater plane of existence beyond the world they inhabit, the opera still boasts a role for the tenor boyfriend, though his conventional importance is significantly reduced in this opera. As Nicias, tenor Dominic Valdes-Chenes offered a gracious, elegant performance as Thaïs’ wealthy flavor of the week. The stoic and stern part of Palemon was dutifully realized by bass-baritone Keeton, and leggiero Katrina Galka made a triumphant Utah Opera debut as the Carmeuse. The harmonizing duo of soprano Jasmine Rodriguez’s Crobyle and mezzo soprano Sarah Scofield’s Myrtale were gravely challenged by the stage blocking, sadly veering off pitch as they gravitated apart.
An additional thought before we depart. Revisiting the Janet Quinney Lawson Capitol Theatre for these performances of Massenet’s Thaïs, I looked back to the notes from my previous visit thirteen years ago, and I found this very technical assessment pertaining to the venue: “Sat in mezzanine – left side / three rows back – acoustics quite funky”. For the May 10th presentation, Chris and I marched into the theater flashing our press passes and settled into our posh orchestra seats. I fully expected to better my previous experience, making my inquiry during the after the performance puzzling:
-Is the sound fussy and bottled to you?
-Yes, I usually sit up in the balcony. The sound tends to “pool” down here.
And so we battled the Sunday matinee crowds to see the show once more, on our own dime this time, and strategically positioned ourselves at the front of the upper balcony. As we climbed the stairs, Chris pointed to a clearing overlooking the rear orchestra, which goes far deep under the balcony overhang into a cave-like nook. We’re no sound engineers, but the implied warnings are compelling. As the first act unfolded, the sound rose towards the top of the auditorium with vivid focus, an impression reinforced by our migration to the nosebleed section to escape the loud couple seated beside us. As an aside, the Sunday matinee audience was feisty. We witnessed a full-on Karen moment as a patron argued with an usher about his reassigning himself to a handicap accessible seat. Meanwhile, another patron brought an emotional support (and very well behaved) dog to the show: Both firsts for me. Salt Lake City hits different, and I will be back.
For more information on Utah Opera’s 2024-25 season, please visit the company’s website at www.utahopera.org
-Daniel Vasquez