Best of All Possible Performances: Curtis Opera’s Vibrant Candide

I was lucky enough to see Curtis Opera Theatre’s production of Leonard Bernstein’s operetta Candide yesterday. I met a woman who remembered my opera talks for Opera Philadelphia, and she encouraged me to write a review of the production. So, here’s my stab at it…

Before I get to the performance itself, a bit of background on the piece:

Leonard Bernstein’s Candide has had one of the most fascinating evolutions in American musical theater. Based on Voltaire’s 1759 novella of the same name, the operetta premiered in 1956 with a libretto by Lillian Hellman and lyrics primarily by the poet Richard Wilbur. Other notable contributors to the text over time included John Latouche, Dorothy Parker, Stephen Sondheim, John Mauceri, John Wells, and Bernstein himself. The orchestrations were crafted by Maurice Peress and Hershy Kay. Although the original production received only a lukewarm reception, Bernstein’s dazzling score stood out. The work underwent numerous revisions over the decades, with a major turning point in 1973 when Harold Prince staged a pared-down revival. Since 1974, most productions have used a new book by Hugh Wheeler, which is more faithful to Voltaire’s satirical narrative. Bernstein continued to reshape the piece over the years, ultimately approving a final version in 1989 that reflects his full musical vision and theatrical sensibility. What once struggled to find its place has now become a beloved work in both opera houses and musical theaters.

Our performance was held at Philadelphia’s Forrest Theatre—(re)built in 1927 and seating 1,851. The standard repertoire for that venue consists mostly of touring Broadway productions. I’ve been there so infrequently over the past 30 years that I can only recall seeing The Who’s Tommy, Miss Saigon, and Dear Evan Hansen there. So it was exciting for me to see Candide for the first time in an unfamiliar venue. It felt like an event. It helped that there was a line around the corner as people waited to enter for this seemingly sold-out performance.

It's also important to share that this year marked Curtis Institute’s Centennial and these were the last opera performances for the celebrations. It’s important to think about the talent that has come out of Curtis during that time. Not just composers like Samuel Barber, Gian Carlo Menotti, and Leonard Bernstein, but numerous singers are Curtis alumni: Pierrette Alarie, Judith Blegen, Claudia Catania, William Cochran, Enrico di Giuseppe, Juan Diego Florez, Eve Gigliotti, Frank Guarrera, Vahan Khanzadian, Jean Kraft, Marlena K. Malas, Anna Moffo, Thomas Moser, Eric Owens, John Relyea, Gianna Rolandi Davis, Rinat Shaham, Karen Slack, Theodor Uppman, and Benita Valente, not to mention a few singers with fast-rising careers: Brandon Cedel, Amanda Majeski, Elliot Madore, Jamez McCorkle, Sean Michael Plumb, and Emily Pogorelc, to name but a few who come to mind.

Certainly, Curtis’ legacy will live on given the level of talent on display at this performance. I only have positive things to say about this marvelous production, which was enjoyable from start to finish. From the downbeat, tears began to run down my face and continued throughout the entire first act. I was in the second row just behind Maestro David Charles Abell, and one of the violists kept glancing at me as I wiped away tears—as if to say, “Again? Really?” Was it because I was four feet from this world-class-if-conservatory orchestra? Was it hearing this overture live for the first time? Who’s to say. But there is so much ebullience in this best of all possible worlds—in the music and music-making, the production, and the performances—that it was hard not to be moved. Plus, Bernstein's musical theatre music “speaks” to me. He always manages to balance outward and inward emotions with such brilliance.

Let me give you an example of how that duality gets to me, if from a different show. I may be the only person to ever cry during the song “Ohio” in Wonderful Town, which I last saw in the 2004 revival with Donna Murphy and Jennifer Westfeldt. Although it’s a purely comedic moment, it’s not so funny for our dear Eileen and Ruth. Yet Bernstein manages the bittersweet tightrope of celebrating the sisters’ freedom in New York City as they simultaneously discover the horrors of basement apartment living. It’s kind of tragic. So, I cried. Everyone else around me was in hysterics, of course.

I digress…

Candide walks a different tightrope. Optimism abounds in so much of the score, even in its darkest moments—of which there are plenty. Yet Candide never loses hope. Those early lessons from Dr. Pangloss—that everything that happens is for the best—are embedded in his DNA. That his friends, whom he believed dead after ostensibly fatal situations, reappear alive only deepens his (and their) belief in remaining positive. Bernstein responds by creating a collection of beautiful, if flawed, characters. At the center is our hero: beautifully simple and even wholesome.

The production by Emma Griffin reimagines Dr. Pangloss as a 1930s-style film director, complete with ever-present megaphone, while members of the ensemble act as narrators to brilliant effect. This gives just about everyone in the cast a solo moment to shine. It also provides phenomenal character development, complete with a variety of convincing accents—from North Jersey mafia wife to Southern belle.

Our cast arrives for the first day of rehearsal. Everyone is in costume—from the Creature from the Black Lagoon and Vegas showgirls to a beach bum, a cowboy, medieval maidens and knights, a nun, and a waitress, among many others—and they are introduced to each other (and to us) in the opening.

Candide, Maximilian, and Paquette are straight out of the 1950s. Candide wears a car repairman’s jumper and cap; Maximilian is a Danny Zuko-like matinee idol in a leather jacket and jeans; and Paquette is an office secretary, looking like someone out of Mad Men. Cunegonde, meanwhile, arrives in black tights and an oversized faux coat, hiding behind large sunglasses with her hair tightly in a bun. When she’s introduced, she lets down her bun, shakes out her luxurious cascading hair, ditches the fur, and strikes a pose. We knew exactly who this Cunegonde was.

A quick mention of our principal singers, all of whom were just terrific vocally and dramatically. These were professional-level performances that could have been seen at any opera company or even on Broadway.

Landry Allen (Candide) has a stunning tenor voice and truly encapsulated Candide’s naiveté and optimism. His voice is clean and clear. While I couldn’t find too much about him online, I’m guessing he’ll easily move into Mozart repertoire until his voice matures.

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a conservatory-level performance as confident and exciting as Emilie Kealani’s Cunegonde. Bold, vivacious, complicated, and vocally spot-on with dazzling high notes and coloratura to spare. This is an exciting singer to watch. She makes her Opera Philadelphia debut next season as Corinna in Il Viaggio a Reims.

It's hard to review Nathan Schludecker (Maximilian), Emily Damasco (Paquette), Emilio Vásquez (Pangloss), and the versatile Ross Macatangay (Judge/Captain/Archbishop) without using the same superlatives again and again. Every one of them demonstrated impeccable diction, stage presence, and comic versatility. They were a joy.

A special mention must go to New Zealander Katie Trigg. It was truly a bravura performance—from her high middle Polish accent, physical comedy, eye rolls, and glorious voice, she stole every scene she was in as The Old Lady. Brava, Ms. Trigg!

I could highlight virtually every member of the cast, because they were all so damn good in this show. What was so exciting about this motley crew of characters was how accomplished every single performer was. Normally with a college or conservatory production, there are a few singers on stage who just don’t look comfortable. That was not the case here. Every single ensemble member embodied their unique roles with gusto, ease, and extreme confidence—it seemed as if Ms. Griffin had been working with them for months on character development. All of them clearly relished the opportunity and threw themselves into the production.

But what emerged from the ensemble was more than character work, it was community. People coming together to celebrate their uniqueness and collaborate on bringing this story to life. Adding to that spirit was the brilliant conductor David Charles Abell and his talented orchestra, who enthusiastically contributed to some of the onstage shenanigans. Abell was as adept with guiding his orchestra, including a percussionist in a balcony box, as he was with getting the best from his singers, and even game to ad-lib with performers onstage.

In a delightful and moving coup de théâtre, our stage director/Dr. Pangloss had the entire orchestra leave the pit and come on stage. The fucsia unit set flew into the wings, revealing the backstage area, complete with road cases and more. As the company launched into “Make Our Garden Grow,” a drop slowly rose from the floor to reveal a beautiful garden that celebrated everyone on stage. Even the orchestra members sang their hearts out during that tear-inducing a cappella section that sends chills down everyone’s spine. This community of actors, singers, musicians, and more created a glorious garden of colorful flowers that extended out into the audience and made all of our hearts grow.

Congratulations to the Curtis Institute of Music, Curtis Opera Theatre, Emma Griffin, David Charles Abell, and the incredible ensemble of performers for a stunning afternoon at the Forrest Theatre—a performance that will stay with me for the rest of my life.

  Learn more about Curtis Institute of Music and Curtis Opera Theatre here.