It began with an S.O.S. from Jim Schatzman back in December. He had just lost the services of the baritone he had hired to sing Melchior in the Choral Arts Society’s performances of Gian Carlo Menotti’s Amahl and the Night Visitors. Could I ride to the rescue? Of all of the exciting moments I enjoyed in 2016, this phone call ranks towards the very top of the list. I was thrilled to receive this invitation- and even more thrilled to say yes.
But it wasn’t until last week’s rehearsals at First Presbyterian Church that I began to fully realize just what an immense privilege it was for me to be singing Melchior again for the first time in 25 years. Again and again I found myself on that stage with a huge lump in my throat, nearly overcome with a sense of profound gratitude that I got to wear that crown and robe and sing this stunning music with such fine colleagues. By the time of the actual performances, I had those feelings under a little better control, which allowed me to sing so much better than if I had allowed myself to be choked up. But at the end of the evening, once my singing was done for the night and I was slowly walking out with my fellow Kings and Amahl, I could allow those feelings of gratitude to wash over me and for that lump in my throat to return. All I could think of was “Lucky, lucky me.”
I think my sense of gratitude was greatly enhanced by a very special reunion that occurred at Friday night’s performance with three young men who had sung the role of Amahl in the past: Brett Angel, Mike Wideburg, and Nathan Engstrom. Speaking with these three men on my radio show and in the audience talkback Friday night, one could really tell how incredibly thankful they were to have had the chance to sing this role. That stands to reason because it is the kind of role that one can only sing within a rather narrow range of time. You can’t be too young because it’s such a demanding role, both vocally and dramatically – and you obviously can’t sing it once your voice has changed. The window of opportunity is open only so long- and if no one is doing Amahl during that time, then it’s simply not meant to be. But for Brett, Mike and Nathan, the stars aligned … and for as long as they live, they can be thankful that they got to be Amahl. And each of them can be proud of how beautifully they performed this role and made it their own.
(Left to right: Mike Wideburg, Amahl in 2000. I saw his wonderful performance opposite the lovely Mother of Beth Bush. Nathan Engstrom, Amahl in 2011. I was the pianist for his performances. Brett Angel, Amahl in 1991. I was his Melchior – and the role of the Mother was sung by a renowned soprano named Ilona Kombrink, who knew and worked with Menotti himself.)
I felt fortunate indeed to be singing Melchior in between two fine singing actors. G. Dwight Hamilton was a charming yet majestic Balthazar, and Bill Diekhoff – a veteran of nine different productions of Amahl before this one – was an ideal Kaspar. We had a lovely chemistry between us, and that makes all the difference. And we were joined by Benjamin Horvat as the Page, who was given quite a lot of complicated stage business to do in this production and handled everything so capably.
The role of the Mother is a steeply challenging in just about every way, but Brianne Sura met those challenges beautifully. Her rich, warm voice is ideally suited for the part – but even more than that, she has the heart to bring this character alive. And as opening night approached, it was gratifying and exciting to see young Tai Heether grow more and more assured as Amahl – to the great pleasure of all of us, but especially for his proud grandfather- who also happened to be our conductor. A group of singers from the Choral Arts Society played the shepherds and really threw themselves into their roles with gusto and sincerity. And people are still talking about the beautiful dancing of Tess Dimler, Kai Nakayama and William Heide – from The Studio of Classical Dance Arts – that lit up the stage. (We kings had the best seat in the house to enjoy their great work.) And none of this would have been nearly so beautiful if it weren’t for the talented orchestral musicians and pianist Randy Fischer who accompanied us.
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I really appreciated everything about stage director Paul Ivkovich’s sensitive work with us, but he came up with one particular innovation that I have never seen in any other production of the opera- and as far as I’m concerned, it was a stroke of genius. To set the moment in context: Amahl and his Mother, who is a widow, are living in such terrible poverty that the Mother cannot resist the urge to steal some of the gold that the Kings are bringing with them to Bethlehem. She is caught red handed by the Page, but Amahl’s urgent, heartfelt pleas on her behalf soften the heart of Melchior, who tells her that she can keep the gold. “The Child we seek,” he sings, “doesn’t need our gold.” The Mother replies that she no longer wants the gold and wishes that she had a gift of her own to give to the Child. That’s the moment that Amahl offers up his crutch as a gift- and in that moment, he is healed. He then leaves with the Kings in order to give thanks to the Child himself.
Here is Paul’s marvelous idea: As the Mother and Amahl sing their tender farewell duet to one another, the Kings quietly prepare to leave … and Melchior looks down at the gold in his hands and looks around at the humble hut in which they are standing. With no fanfare whatsoever, he takes a gold coin and quietly places it on the shelf behind him. We then take our leave with Amahl following behind, playing his flute. It is only as the Mother turns away from the doorway and walks back into her small hut that she notices the gold coin that the Kings have left behind for her – and falls to her knees, tears of gratitude streaming down her face.
When the director came to me at the Wednesday night rehearsal with this idea, I was thrilled – because as we made our exit at the end of the evening’s first run through, I remember looking down at the gold in my hands (it was my first time working with the prop) and feeling like it was somehow wrong … or at least not quite right … to walk away from that humble place with all of that gold leaving with me. But I had no idea what to do about it. Paul’s idea was perfect. In his mind it was one more Christmas miracle for this woman and her young son. And if I am ever blessed to sing the role of Melchior again, I will do all I can to make sure that this happens again. And if the director nixes the idea, I’ll just go ahead and leave the coin anyway – (surreptitiously, so the director doesn’t notice.) At least that way, I can know that Melchior was thinking in that moment about more than the Messiah. He was also thinking about the plight of this brave, lonely, struggling woman and her son – which is what Jesus would have wanted him to do anyway.
Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36 I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ 37 Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? 38 And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? 39 And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ 40 And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers,[a] you did it to me.’ Matthew 25:32-40
