Music Review | A Modernized ‘Carmen,’ a Bounty of Pianistic Glass

In our fair city, grand opera is a rare and specialized commodity, making its way onto the cultural calendar only a handful of times each year. Hence, the chance of catching two views of a single opera staple is rarer still. But suddenly, this summer, we witnessed the second Carmen in less than a year. And who’s complaining, when the performance and production are up to such high standards?

Last fall, Opera Santa Barbara (OSB) served up a suitably grand version of Bizet’s beloved and (oft-staged) masterpiece at The Granada Theatre. The same stage was also ground zero for last weekend’s own more modernized — and beautifully sung — Carmen, the chosen fare for the Music Academy of the West’s (MAW) annual fully produced opera and staged by MAW for the first time in a decade.

Given the proximity of the Granada-bound Carmens, the comparison game is inevitable. The OSB production and staging was fairly conventional, with varied scenic sets to delineate the narrative flow of the tale — from the town of Seville to Carmen’s Romani encampment to the climactic and tragic finale in a bullfight area.

In stark contrast, last weekend’s Carmen took place on a lean and dogmatically minimalist stage set, conceived by director Ken Cazan and scenic designer Cameron Anderson. Before a simple arcing backdrop for Spanish color, a large oval space defined by a simple white perimeter contained most of the opera’s central action. The tactic is reminiscent of the chalked-out, rehearsal-referential diagram of Lars Von Trier’s film Dogville (and Mandelay). It could be said that the disciplined restraint of the staging obscured some of the plot’s machinations and changes more explicitly laid out in a traditional approach such as the OSB production, but perhaps that very frugality of context also placed tighter focus on the formidable musical elements before us.

And the musical element offered much to admire, starting with mezzo-soprano Maggie Reneé’s commanding and infectious performance and including Xuyue Quing’s aptly evil romantic Don José, Paul Jang embodying suavity as Escamillo, and Kayla Stein in fine fettle as Micaëla. In the orchestra pit, the taut ensemble was boldly yet sensitively led by Daniela Candillari, presently the official opera conductor for the Academy and an artist whose star has been rising since her first appearance here, conducting Cold Mountain in 2019.

The sum effect of this summer’s Carmen was one of professional level bedazzlement, transporting us to that special otherworldly dimension which good opera can achieve, while eliciting a sense of contemporary freshness in the staging department. With nary a misstep, the Academy’s rendition of Carmen emerged victorious, despite the unseemly demise of its heroine.

Phillip Glass’ Cup Running Over

From a very different corner of the musical universe, the second major event of last weekend’s Music Academy calendar took place on Saturday at Hahn Hall, the night Phillip Glass’ music came to town. Specifically, the subject was Glass’ complete set of piano etudes — 20 of them comprising a two-and-a-half-hour package.

The evening was led by Glass specialist Academy guest artist Timo Andres — who performed numbers 10 and the final 20 — with faculty member Conor Hannick performing the opening Etude and several fellows showing their impressive skills on the remaining etudes.

Hearing the piece as a whole, noting the diversity and cross-references of pieces in the tapestry, made for a fascinating study of the signature Glass style — emphatically tonal, fueled by repeating phrases and rhythmic phases. It’s no wonder that his music appeals to those who don’t necessarily like classical music, grounded as it is in tonality, triads, and “grooves.”

Personally, like many serious music aficionados, I confess ambivalence — or agnosticism — with Glass’ music, which can sound robotic and limited in palette or any sense of evolution over the decades. That said, Saturday night’s Glass micro-festival was mostly fascinating, especially for our nerdy completist sensibilities and the prospect of analyzing variations on an idiomatic theme.

Whatever one’s view of the case of Glass (a modern visionary or the most overrated living composer?), the Hahn Hall performance showcased the impressive powers of the piano fellows involved — Po Han Chiu, Kevin Takeda, Henry From, Sol Park, Alice Zhang, and Iskandar Mamadaliev.

Andres’ two pieces were the standouts of the night, both for the musical depth and supple interpretation he brought to the scores. Number 10 is a fast, initially light-handed piece which turns into an exercise in accelerando and the slow-build crescendo. It suggests a train picking up speed and initiative as it goes, destination unknown.

Finishing the night on another high note, Andres (in a tan suit with bright red socks) eased into what begins as a ponderous etude, bringing along a delicate romantic sensitivity and attention to dynamic shading.

With this eloquent finale, to the concert and to the weekend’s musical double-header, Andres demonstrated his worth as a prime ambassador for Glass’ music. He fulfills the desires of entrenched Glass acolytes and extends a warm invitation for the rest of us to reconsider, and enjoy the minimalism-powered ride.