Most fever dreams require very litÂtle pre-planÂning and coorÂdiÂnaÂtion. All it takes is the flu and a pilÂlow, and perÂhaps a shot of Ny-Quil.
A fever dream on the order of comÂposÂer Philip Glass’ 1984 opera, AkhnatÂen, is a horse of an entireÂly difÂferÂent colÂor, as “How An Opera Gets Made,” above, makes clear.
For those in the perÂformÂing arts, the revÂeÂlaÂtions of this eyeÂpopÂping Vox video will come as no surÂprise, though the forÂmiÂdaÂble resources of New York City’s MetÂroÂpolÂiÂtan Opera, where the piece was recentÂly restaged by direcÂtor PheÂlim McDerÂmott, may be cause for envy.
The cosÂtumes!
The wigs!
The set!
The orchesÂtra!
The jugÂglers!
… wait, jugÂglers?
Yes, a dozen, whose careÂfulÂly coorÂdiÂnatÂed efforts proÂvide a counÂterÂpoint to the stylÂized slow motion pace the rest of the cast mainÂtains for the duraÂtion of the three and half hour long show.
This maxÂiÂmalÂist approach to minÂiÂmalÂist modÂern opera has proved a hit, though the New York Times’ critÂic AnthoÂny TomÂmasiÂni opined that he could have done with less jugÂgling…
We preÂsume everyÂone gets that bringÂing an opera to the stage involves many more departÂments, steps, and heavy labor than can be squeezed into a 10-minute video.
PerÂhaps the biggest surÂprise awaitÂing the uniniÂtiÂatÂed is the playÂful offÂstage manÂner of AnthoÂny Roth CostanÂzo, the supremeÂly giftÂed counÂtertenor in the title role. As the pharaoh who reduced ancient Egypt’s panÂtheon to a sinÂgle god, Aten, aka the sun, he makes his first entrance comÂpleteÂly nude, head shaved, flecked in gold, facÂing the audiÂence for the entireÂty of his four-minute descent down a 12-step stairÂcase.
(One step the video doesÂn’t touch on is the workÂout regÂiÂmen he embarked on in prepaÂraÂtion for his nude debut, a 6‑day-a-week comÂmitÂment that inspired him to found one of the first AmerÂiÂcan busiÂnessÂes to offer fitÂness buffs trainÂing sesÂsions using ElecÂtriÂcal MusÂcle StimÂuÂlaÂtion.)
His dedÂiÂcaÂtion to his craft is obviÂousÂly extraÂorÂdiÂnary. It has to be for him to hanÂdle the score’s demandÂing arpegÂgios and intriÂcate repÂeÂtiÂtions, notably the six-minute segÂment whose only lyric is “ah.” His breath conÂtrol on that secÂtion earns high praise from his longÂtime vocal coach Joan PateÂnaude-Yarnell.
But—and this will come as a shock to those of us whose conÂcept of male opera stars is informed nearÂly excluÂsiveÂly by Bugs BunÂny carÂtoons and the late Luciano PavarotÂti—his outÂsized talÂent does not seem to be reflectÂed in outÂsized self-regard.
He treats viewÂers to a self-depÂreÂcatÂing peek inside the Met’s wig room while clad in a decidÂedÂly anti-priÂmo uomo sweatÂshirt, gameÂly dons his styÂroÂfoam khepÂresh for close range inspecÂtion, and cracks himÂself up by high-fivÂing his own pharaonÂic image in the lobÂby.
There’s incredÂiÂble lightÂness to this being.
As such, he may be more effecÂtive at attractÂing a new genÂerÂaÂtion of admirÂers to the art form than any disÂcounts or pre-show mixÂer for patrons 35-and-under.
For furÂther insights into how this musiÂcal sausage got made, have a ganÂder at the MetÂroÂpolÂiÂtan Opera’s pre-proÂducÂtion videos and read star AnthoÂny Roth Costanzo’s essay in the Guardian.
RelatÂed ConÂtent:
Is Opera Part of Pop CulÂture? PretÂty Much Pop #15 with Sean Spyres
Hear the HighÂest Note Sung in the 137-Year HisÂtoÂry of the MetÂroÂpolÂiÂtan Opera
Ayun HalÂlÂiÂday is an author, illusÂtraÂtor, theÂater makÂer and Chief PriÂmaÂtolÂoÂgist of the East VilÂlage Inky zine. Join her in NYC on MonÂday, JanÂuÂary 6 when her monthÂly book-based variÂety show, NecroÂmancers of the PubÂlic Domain celÂeÂbrates New York: The Nation’s MetropÂoÂlis (1921). FolÂlow her @AyunHalliday.