I’m not sure I can put into words what it felt like for me to spring out of bed this morning without a fifty-pound weight called “The Beggar’s Opera” hanging around my neck. Since the day after Christmas, the majority of my time and energy and focus (and fears) have been directed to Carthage’s J-Term production of this fascinating work from 1728 which drastically redefined what operas could be. It was rowdy and at times even raunchy- it was in English- it was topically relevant to some of the biggest issues of the day- and it was tuneful….. and opera score designed to entertain everyone rather than just the elite. It blew the roof off of the operatic establishment in London, and in Siebert Chapel Friday and Saturday night we managed to do sort of the same thing.
For people who thought of opera as a relentlessly grim and stuffy affair – with people in powdered wigs and hoop skirts stabbing themselves and then singing fifteen minute arias about it- they found themselves instead confronted by pickpockets and prostitutes, crooked jailers and lawyers, beggars living in cardboard boxes, singing folk songs and drinking tunes. And then, in the most shocking moments of all, there were moments in the opera when the ensemble suddenly began singing “House of the Rising Sun” or “Diamonds are a Girl’s Best Friend” or “I bust the Windows out your car” or “I wanna be billionaire.” (“. . . so mmm mmm bad. . .”) This was stage director Matt Boresi’s audacious idea, and in all honesty I had some misgivings about injecting that kind of modernity into the score. But the nervous, delighted laughter of the audience at those moments (and you could tell from what the laughter sounded like that it was especially the younger people in the audience who found those moments delightful) was all the convincing I needed that Matt’s ideas about updating the production had achieved his paramount goal- jolting people as though they had just taken a big swig of one of those energy drinks. . . much like this work probably affected its original audiences back in 1728.
To be sure, we did not achieve perfection – there was no way we could have with two rehearsals canceled on account of the blizzard. But somehow our amazing, committed cast dug deep into their souls and managed to pull together an amazingly strong performance Friday night- and an even better performance Saturday night. The thing that was most terrifying about our loss of rehearsal was that in our Thursday dress rehearsal, every dropped line or forgotten entrance or exit would seem to create a new train wreck- because people just didn’t know the opera well enough to surmount those mistakes. But somehow – and I’m not sure it doesn’t deserve to be called a miracle – the cast gained all kinds of ground, mentally, between Thursday and Friday, so that when little things went wrong (and they did) they found ways to keep things going. And Saturday was better still….. by no means perfect but an exciting, committed performance all the same.
What made all of the hard work so completely worth it was to have the audiences be SO receptive and enthusiastic — including older members of the audience who I would have expected to be taken aback by the naughtiness of the story or the audacity of our revisions and additions. There was a nice older couple from St. Mary’s Lutheran Church in the second row Friday night, and I found myself looking over at them all evening long, hoping I would see smiles rather than grimaces on their faces. . . and it was nothing but smiles all night long. And Saturday night, I was stealing glances all night long at Barbara Campbell, wife of the President of the college – and was so glad to see her laughing and enjoying herself so thoroughly. That seems to have been the major story—- that people enjoyed themselves, which is what we wanted more than anything.
By the way, I would be amiss if I neglected to mention another of Matt’s neat ideas. Five minutes before each performance was to begin, the members of the cast would slowly make their way on to the set. . . completely in character. . . most shuffling along very slowly and sadly. . . each one an authentic character. And as they began walking into Siebert Chapel, you could hear the audience grow completely hushed. It was an electrifying way to begin the night – and I was glad that on a night when the term “beggar” was used rather lightheartedly, we began the evening with a few moments to acknowledge the pain and sadness of real beggars.
Kathy and I treated the cast to pizza afterwards, and by the time we had finished picking up, it was after midnight. . . and I’m not sure I’ve ever been quite so exhausted as I felt as I dragged myself to the car. But what a happy exhaustion it was, knowing that all of the hard work had paid off so handsomely. And despite being immensely relieved to have it finished, I am going to miss this opera- and this particular group of singers- and the unique sort of satisfaction that comes from pouring your blood, sweat and tears into something and have it turn out so nicely in the end. Life does not get much richer than that.
pictured above: some of the “beggars” in our cast.
Below: various cast members, including Michael Chase, Jillian Swanson / Elizabeth Hood/ Katie Schimidt David Duncan / Nic Sluss-Rodionov
