Sandwiched between performances of Verdi’s La Traviata, the Atlanta Opera broke new ground last Saturday by offering the southeastern premiere of Philip Glass’ La Belle et la Bête. Matching a beat first established in 2023 with Shapiro’s Frankestein, The Movie Opera, this presentation of Philip Glass’ La Belle et la Bête introduced another hybrid work combining film and opera to Atlanta audiences, and was presented in a full orchestra edition aimed to satisfy the dimensions of the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre. Glass’ minimalist work, which plays alongside Jean Cocteau’s landmark 1946 avant-garde film replacing both sound and dialogue, was billed as a one-night only event, coupled with a masquerade-themed afterparty meant to squeeze every bit of sparkle out of the occasion. Embracing my limitations as a basic bel-canto purist, I enlisted the help of composer, guest writer, banter partner and champion of modern music Chris Myers to help guide to my very old-fashioned ear. Taking advantage of Chris’ looming relocation from Salt Lake City to Paris, I successfully conned him into compliance by framing the entire weekend (which also included the final performance of Verdi’s La Traviata) as an entrée to Parisian culture filtered through a southern sensibility. Having set up both city and company for sheer failure, things were bound to get quite severe.
DV: I know that I was unable to talk you into coming down for Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream last year, which I thought would have been more your speed. How did Philip Glass manage to get you on a plane to Atlanta?
CM: (Elevates index finger) For the record, I do love A Midsummer Night’s Dream and all things Britten. He is to me what Bellini is to you. But the circumstances under which that opera was created in some ways restricted a lot of the Britten I hear in Peter Grimes, A turn of the Screw, Death in Venice, etc. It’s the sort of opera I would unquestionably go see if I happened to be in town. Thankfully I was able to catch that livestream off the Atlanta Opera website and I agree with you that the show was a good time. In the case of La Belle et la Bête, I have been curious about it ever since I got the Criterion edition blu-ray of the film which features the option to play the opera’s studio recording in sync. Clicking play on that disc did not work for me in the living room at all, but since I am no stranger to the Philip Glass experience in the theater, I wanted to see if it would have a different effect in the format that it was intended to be experience. It certainly did tonight!
DV: I remember seeing the movie in French class in the mid-90s. I was already an opera person then and remember being able to accept some of the aesthetics of the film more readily than some of my classmates. I don’t claim to be a Cocteau fan, but this film certainly served as gateway to the works of Jodorowski, Zulawski and Ken Russell that played in my college dorm while I was making out with strangers.
CM: Art will always find a way.
DV: I tried to sync up the studio recording when it came out alongside the VHS copy of the film a couple of times when I was trying to be edgy. In the flower of my youth, I feared that the combination of arthouse cinema and Glass’ black turtleneck minimalism would complicate my feelings about it. I recall finding the experience surprisingly approachable yet not necessarily endearing.
CM: I won’t push back on that impression. It may explain why you were visibly nervous about this show – and now having seen it in person you seem so…relieved. This aesthetic has now so deeply influenced music that it is so easily digestible. Just think of the film scores from the past 20 years that have really embraced this style. It may not be necessarily something that I want to hear all the time, but when I am in the theater, Glass offers an authentic, unique experience that I feel most people can engage with.
DV: A bit like food that you enjoy on certain occasions, but nothing you can live-off of. Italian Ice during summer.
CM: Are you about to bring up your tired old concept that composers are like vitamins, each doing different yet necessary things for the ear and (groans) “the heart”?
DV: I would never. There are word limits to these articles. Plus, going that route would lead us either to Incredible Adventures or American Tragedies.
CM: Let’s not mix up the real vitamins with supplements peddled by gross influencers.
DV: Mega shade aside, I have to agree. Throughout the show this evening, I was surprised at how Glass consistently lured my willing ears into an intentional trance. What is so interesting is how removed he manages to be about it. He rarely features himself in the show, and always frames the film as the point of focus, like a male ballet dancer who showcases the prima ballerina to the public. All the while he is lulling the audience into compliance. Bringing up the food comparisons, my Glass experience was like eating the basket of unsalted tortilla chips one gets at El Azteca while waiting another hour to get the entrées. The taste is mild and non-descript, enough to keep one reaching for them, long enough for that odd hypnotic state created by the jaw movement and the constant mush in the mouth to take over. Its not longer about taste, but motion.
CM: You should be a reviewer.
DV: You’re seen and appreciated. All in all, it sounds like you had a good time. (Pause). No?
CM: I will say this: I felt the performance proved that the work is cleverly constructed and can be quite enjoyable. There were other elements that got in the way.
DV: So intrigued! But you do agree that the artistic presentation was compelling and worth revisiting?
CM: I do. I thought the Atlanta Opera Orchestra under the leadership of Ryan McAdams displayed a lot of polish in their execution, even if they were not immune to some of the complications that come along with performing Glass. Whereas the challenge of playing Mozart, Wagner, Strauss or Mahler in getting the right articulation and getting the orchestra to play together as a group – so that when the melody played sounds like its coming from one instrument which magically changes – with Glass no individual part is difficult in terms of articulation or phrasing: his music is intentionally blocky. The orchestra tonight stayed focused enough to build that colored fog which allowed them to put lights through it and tell their story. I also felt that the singers, despite losing several lip synchs throughout the run of the show, did a fine job. This isn’t music that poses the usual challenges we associate with opera: members in the pit, as well as the soloists, are amplified, and for an English speaking audience, the overall effect won’t be compromised as long as the dialogue is sung within a reasonable margin between the filmed movement and the subtitles.
DV: It is certainly an accessible piece for singers of a variety of pedigrees. The majority of tonight’s soloists, Hadleigh Adams, David Crawford and Alexis Seminario wll singing comprimario roles in Verdi’s La Traviata tomorrow. All offered solid, emotive performances that matched the spirit of the film. The very glossy Philip Glass webpage claims that a chamber version of the score of La Belle et la Bête is in the works, and I envision performances at arthouse cinemas with small chamber orchestras and professional soloists. It would certainly promote smaller, more frequent performances of the opera once the restrictions of performing the work at an opera venue with full orchestra are removed. So…where’s the “but”?
CM: (sigh) In the hour that it took us to navigate the traffic from the suburbs back to civilization, I’ve been grappling with how to say what I’m about to say. Based on my experience tonight I can tell you that everything on the production side of Atlanta Opera is pure class. Everything that happened tonight on stage was professional and beautifully done. The problem was in the marketing and audience development, which chose to promote an atmosphere that undermined the art that they were creating. It started as soon we approved the doors and we were greeted by that long line of people trying to get a wrist band for the Masquerade ball. I grew more hesitant when the staff member organizing the line encouraged our participation, and you asked him what music would be played at the event.
DV: (cringe/chuckle) And he said he did not know! Suddenly I had visions of wedding receptions, debutant balls, cotillion….
CM: What on earth is cotillion?
DV: I think it’s like a southern quinceañera. I’ve lived here for decades and have yet to get a satisfying explanation. Google explanations have shed no light on the matter.
CM: By the by, while you were showing me around, I kept seeing adults in costume, children at face painting stations and specialty drinks on sale, all things encouraging a carnival vibe which seemed destined to collide with Glass and Cocteau in all the wrong ways. It got me thinking that perhaps this sort of promotion was meant to go along with La Traviata, since that opera – unlike La Belle et la Bête – features a masquerade ball. There was also little mention in the program and in the prerecorded announcement addressing the fact that we were about to experience a rarely done work, or that this is a sensitive and beautiful classic film. Anything that would at least indicate to the audience that what they were about to experience is not a joke.
DV: And you attribute this as the reason why the audience would often react to the film in an off-putting way.
CM: Yes. And I do think you use the term “film” on purpose here because there’s nothing in the score which super imposes a clashing sentiment to what the film is championing. We’ve both been to screenings of this film, and certainly performances of plenty of operas. There are moments when the creator of a work of art wants to elicit a reaction, and others when they want to elicit an effect on an audience. I think the audience was stuck in the first, while the latter was never allowed space to cure. I did not sense that the audience was connecting with the film beyond reactions to what they deemed ridiculous. As a performer, I found this a bit enraging. I am actually a little taken aback that you don’t wholly share in this.
DV: Well, I agree with your sentiment but it weighs differently in me. As an audience member in a live performance situation, my role is to consume what the performers are serving. I, and the audience around me, should not be seen or heard until it’s our turn to weigh in. My brain has several mechanisms built in to fade annoying audiences into the background, so I was able to separate the performance from the audience, and encapsulate the experience in terms of the performance alone.
CM: Its different for me. As a performer, I am more keenly sensitive to that back and forth between the stage and the audience. So when I am watching these scenes depicting genuine vulnerability only to hear roars of laughter, if I had been either the composer or any of the performers in the pit I would have been devastated.
DV: This is ultimately why I am thrilled to be swapping notes on the show. Now that you mention all of this, I now wish that we had stayed for the afterparty to be able to judge the complete experience.
CM: I know what you mean, but honestly I didn’t want to be around that crowd any longer. I find this to often be the problem with post opera events of this type. The whole dress up element takes things too far and you run the risk of it all ending up feeling like your cousin’s wedding reception very quickly. I will go on a limb and say that the reason people do not attend opera has nothing to do with whether or not they get to wear a costume. I’d love a redo of this whole experience with an audience that showed up to the theater because they either admire the film, or because they have a general appreciation of the unique event they’re about to experience.
The Atlanta Opera’s 2025-26 season will pick back up in March with performances of Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro. For tickets, or more information about the remainder of the season, please visit www.atlantaopera.org
-Daniel Vasquez