Even in opera, where plots deal with the structure of destiny, it’s music, not words, that provides power.
— Marcel Marceau, 1987
A composer may write fabulous music, but a weak libretto can kill it as an opera.
— Jake Heggie, 2008
Every composer dreams of writing fabulous music to the perfect, dramatic libretto. Yet few, if any, operas written in the last 50 years have achieved the double whammy of having both great music and great theater. Composer Jake Heggie himself came close to grabbing this gold ring on the opera merry-go-round with
Dead Man Walking in 2000. But, unfortunately,
Three Decembers, his latest ride on that carousel, falls short in the music department, despite another strong libretto (by Gene Scheer, based on a Terrence McNally play) and committed performances by Keith Phares, Kristin Clayton, and the ever-admirable Frederica von Stade.
Heggie is a consummate songwriter, with a deserved reputation as a master fitter of music both to words and to vocal tessitura. In
Three Decembers, he succeeds too well. In a drama that exploits obsessions with clothing (shoes, dresses, a lover’s effects) as a means of developing its emotional thrusts, the musical lines massage the words like soft, ultracomfortable, close-fitting underwear. There is no proper operatic musical costume.
The chamber orchestra of 11 musicians, which was placed to the rear of the stage and included pianist Heggie and conductor/pianist Patrick Summers, toyed all too often with gossamer, subsidiary textures that disappeared into the notorious rafters of Berkeley’s Zellerbach Hall, despite amplification. As I saw the percussionist caress her instrument and heard nothing, I began to long for some spikier orchestration, even electric guitars. And I grew tired of the plethora of gentle rocking phrases that threatened at times to turn the opera into a barcarolle.
But even more, I longed for some decent melody. Almost all the melodic elements are merely accompaniment figures to pleasing though unmemorable arioso vocal lines. The only melody of significance, a cross between Faure’s
Pavane and Pachelbel’s Canon, leaves little for the audience to whistle home about. This is a shame, because the libretto offers several opportunities for music to push rather than coddle its performers. The song “About to Break,” for example, is supposed to be a showstopper from a Broadway musical in which von Stade’s character (named Madeline Mitchell) has been cast. But all of von Stade’s innate theatricality is wasted on the vapid music for this uninspiringly harmonized — and un-Broadway-sounding — number.
Engaging Libretto
While the sentimental plot may not please all listeners, I enjoyed the opera as theater, despite the music. I should report that the audience on Friday gave it a nearly unanimous standing ovation, so it must have given pleasure to many. As Heggie describes it, “It’s a play about identity. Identity as a member of the family one is born into and within the ones we create — the truth of who we are and who our parents are.” Madeline's children, Charlie and Bea, chafe at their mother’s devotion to the theater over her devotion to them, and they wonder about their father, who died in an accident when they were quite young.
Over the course of the story, the children gain respect for their mother as they mature through their own hardships. Charlie’s case is particularly well-handled by Scheer and McNally. For example, the son sings a letter from his mother sent to his partner before he died of AIDS: “Charlie and I haven’t always been the best of friends, but his love for you has given him stature.” For Bea, fighting implied marital problems and nascent alcoholism, only Madeline's death brings reconciliation. Fortunately, von Stade is there to comment at the end as her character's spirit: “I think those two are going to be OK now. Don’t you?”
Baritone Phares brought a rich, accurate voice; good looks; and fine acting ability to the part of Charlie, making his performance the highlight of the production for me. Von Stade, of course, could not disappoint in the acting department, and for the most part was in lovely voice — though an excessive vibrato distracted in the “About to Break” set piece. Clayton’s Bea, while a bit pinched in some upper notes, offered a believable sister to Charlie.
Director Leonard Foglia’s set designs were spare, yet perfectly adequate. Especially effective was the railing of the Golden Gate Bridge, which I had just visited earlier in the day.
Afterward, I reflected on Heggie’s theme: children finding their identity, separating from their parents. How many “children” of opera composers (their works) ever achieve the “adulthood” of an independent life through many productions by dozens or more interpreters — in other words, survive their creators?
Unfortunately, the infant mortality rate is very, very high — and unforgettable music is the only, only cure.