Almost lost in the Easter Sunday traffic jam Photo by Cory Weaver
In these new revelations about backstage life at San Francisco Opera, I reached up (not out), to the stilt walkers in the company's wondrous Mefistofele for a sequel to the scoop on the Opera Chorus' impossibly quick changes.
The stilt walkers hover over the chaotic, amazing mob scene of Act 1's Easter Sunday — inches away from the rushing traffic of heavy parade floats — and they get a lot of attention, even against the competition from a giraffe, a zebra, a leopard, and the risqué Adam-and-Eve-and-snake orgy scene. (No, they are not really naked, although I cannot vouch for the snake.)
Who are the walkers, and what is it like to be a nine-foot-tall supernumerary? Polish-Lithuanian-San Franciscan Dalyte Kodzis tells all:
The world of opera itself is familiar territory for me, given that I'm a classically trained soprano and have already performed as a principal and soloist in productions and concerts with such Bay Area companies as Pocket Opera, Trinity Opera, Martinez Opera, etc. Given that my main passion in life is classical singing, it has been a longtime dream of mine to perform in the War Memorial Opera House. I would have never guessed that my first time on that stage, however, would be as a supernumerary stilt walker!
In close-up: Janet Calmels, Dalyte Kodzis, and Corey March
A friend of mine introduced me to stilt walking three years back, because I was going to Burning Man that year and camping with a group known as the Samba Stilt Circus. I wanted to be an active participant in this camp, so I had a carpenter friend build me a pair of wooden stilts, and after an short initial lesson from a veteran stilt walker, I set to practicing in my back yard, holding on to the edge of the house and enlisting my brother to spot me and prevent my fall. After a week or so of practice every day, I felt relatively comfortable to take those stilts out to a desert festival filled with party-goers and dusty wind storms.
Before I knew it, I was already on my second pair of stilts, with several stilt costumes to boot. It was a skill that I continued to grow and which eventually started leading to performance opportunities. Some of the places that stilt walking has taken me include San Jose's Pride Festival, the Sierra Nevada Music Festival, Maker Faire, and now S.F. Opera.
Before continuing with the account from Dalyte (Dah-LEE-teh), here's something completely different from one of her colleagues, Janet Calmels:
I'm the elder of the three of us: 60! And with a total knee replacement at that. I cannot run or do triathlons anymore because of that, but I can still stilt walk and snowboard. Not with my orthopedic surgeon's blessing though! Also; I was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 34.
The world of Opera is not at all in my blood. Daughter of S.F. carpenter father and hairdresser mom, the opera was for the "rich folks." This whole experience is entirely out of my world, and takes me way out of my comfort zone. And I'm loving every amazing moment of it.
Dalyte Kodzis at rest
Congratulations and not to worry, only my orthopedic surgeon reads SFCV (because I make him). Back to Dalyte:
Being on stage with three-foot-tall stilts attached to your legs while hundreds of people swarm about you has its obvious dangers. There are so many massive props and floats whizzing by in my scene that I have to be far more alert of my environment than I normally do when stilt walking in public festivals.
And yet being part of this opulent production is such a thrill that it makes up for any added danger I feel about potentially falling. For my costume, I get to wear a huge fabulous yellow dress, complete with a wig, gloves, cape, crown, and purple stockings that were custom made for my stilts. Backstage, the crew built us our own elevated seating area, and we have a wonderful costumer who's always there to help us get dressed and up on our stilts — even providing us with fans when it gets too hot. Coming from someone whose used to searching for trash cans to sit on for strapping on my stilts, this is a considerable improvement in working conditions.
Seeing what it takes to make a production with so many artists [see next column item] operate like a finely tuned machine is equally impressive. It takes several hours just to block the rough actions of what you see in a 15-minute scene that's as massive as mine. Every encounter and movement of stage traffic you see, as improvised as it might seem, is actually set by the director.
She can't just say, "OK people, walk back and forth and act like you're having a great time at this Easter parade while singing at the same time." Oh, no. When you have as many artists as you do on that stage, you have to choreograph all the foot traffic, or else you're left with a scene that's not nearly as visually compelling as it could be, and potentially three fallen stilt walkers with newly broken hips. The ship is tightly run, both backstage when moving enormous three-story sets in a limited time frame, and onstage with a huge party whose chaotic revelry is as deliberately crafted as the notes in the trumpeter's score.
Janet Calmels away from the Opera House
As cheesy as it might sound, the hardest part for me in this production is knowing that the show must come to an end. Each passing performance feels bittersweet, because I don't know when I'll be on such a grand stage again. It's also rather odd for me to be in an opera where I'm not actually singing, but it has proven to be a huge inspiration to continue my journey so that I might one day return to that incredible stage as a vocalist. The audition process in the opera world is a grueling one full of rejection, and it's easy for operatic singers to become jaded and apathetic about a craft that initially brought them a lot of joy. This adventure in stilt walking at the opera, though, has helped rekindle that flame for me.
And, from the third member of the trio, Corey March:
I found out about this production when one of the other members of the Can-can troupe I am in sent the call to me because she knew I loved both opera and stilting. Since I was a competitive gymnast and martial artist for most of my life (first one and then the other), picking up stilting was easy.
I decided one day at Burning Man I would learn stilts the next day, borrowed a pair and started. Within a block I ditched the staff I was using for support and I spent the next four hours on the stilts. Soon I was spin poi and fire on them.
I have been a super once before as a child and rode Thomas Allan's shoulders in the Royal Opera production of The Magic Flute in the 1980s in L.A. From then on, our family had season tickets, so I watched 11 years of opera growing up.
I have a 4-year-old daughter who also loves opera already, sings, dances, and will no doubt want to run away to Broadway. My main pursuit is my artwork and varied experiences are what feed my art, so I seek them out. A new interactive artwork is already coming out of my experience stilting for the Opera and it has been a great experience all around.
