By CB Adams

There is a particular clarity that comes from watching dancers at the moment their stage identities begin to take shape. Dance St. Louis opened its 60th anniversary season with that sense of emergence fully present, offering an evening with the ABT Studio Company that placed the focus not on promise alone but on preparedness, discipline and artistic intent. This may be the “junior” company of American Ballet Theatre, yet nothing about the performance suggested a diminutive form. These were young dancers stepping forward with conviction.

ABT Studio Company functions as the bridge between advanced training and the demands of a professional career. Its dancers, typically between 17 and 21, rehearse and tour as a unified ensemble, moving through a repertory that spans classical, neoclassical and contemporary work. The result is a rare opportunity for audiences to see dancers becoming themselves in real time — the mind, ear and body aligning in ways that cannot be rehearsed into existence.

Sascha Radetsky, former ABT soloist and the Studio Company’s artistic director, shaped the evening with an eye toward what this roster could carry. His own background, which blends Bolshoi training, long service with ABT and Dutch National Ballet, and the pop-cultural recognizability of “Center Stage” and “Flesh and Bone,” gives him a wide-angle understanding of what young artists require and what audiences intuitively absorb.

The program he assembled reflected that breadth: classical cornerstones that test line and placement, contemporary pieces that ask for nuance and stamina, and neoclassical works built for speed, musicality and ensemble cohesion. With the company currently weighted toward men, the selections were matched to the dancers’ strengths while still nudging them toward new edges.

Radetsky also situated the company within a longer tradition of generational transmission. Dance history is threaded with these handovers — Balanchine shaping dancers like Farrell and Villella, Martha Graham passing her technique through artists such as Terese Capucilli — moments when one generation prepares the next. By programming classical foundations, neoclassical challenges and contemporary commissions, Radetsky placed these dancers not simply as inheritors but as active participants in that lineage.

The evening opened with “La Bayadère (Pas d’Action),” after Marius Petipa, danced by Delfina Nelson-Todd, Audrey Tovar-Dunster, Matteo Curley Bynoe and Younjae ParkThe dancers approached the choreography with respect for its precision: Nelson-Todd shaped her épaulement with quiet assurance, and Tovar-Dunster’s port de bras carried rhythmic confidence.

Curley Bynoe brought crisp batterie and clean landings, while Park partnered with an unforced steadiness that allowed the phrases to expand. Their collective unison — sharp, clear, centered — set an early tone of readiness.

“Cornbread,” by Twyla Tharp and danced by Kayla Mak and Elijah Geolina, supplied one of the evening’s most engaging and warmly alive moments. Mak, shaped by Juilliard training and Princess Grace recognition, moved with a grounded musicality that met Tharp’s rhythmic intricacies head-on. Geolina, whose background includes competitive ballroom and television appearances, brought buoyant elevation and unerring rhythmic instinct. The Carolina Chocolate Drops score amplified the work’s earthy humor and drive. Together they created a performance that felt fully inhabited.

“Beyond Silence,” choreographed by Brady Farrar and danced by YeonSeo Choi and Maximilian Catazaro, offered a shift inward. Choi’s long, patient phrasing and Catazaro’s measured partnering gave the duet a contemplative stillness. Their suspended lines and cleanly delivered shapes created a center of quiet in a varied program.

In “Variations for Three,” by Tiler Peck, Geonhee Park, Younjae Park and Xavier Xué handled the brisk tempo and bright neoclassical coloration with an easy assurance. Geonhee articulated with precision, Younjae found lift in his jumps and Xué provided the stabilizing presence needed to keep the trio’s exchanges aligned. The result was a compact, clearly drawn demonstration of musical and technical rapport.

Xavier Xué returned to the stage for “Saudade,” by Katie Currier — one of the evening’s standout works. Commissioned by ABT Studio Company, the piece asks for a kind of emotional translucence rather than overt display, and Xué delivered. His phrasing moved with quiet elasticity, and the upper-body expressiveness — a soft back ripple, suspended arms, a held inhale before release — gave the work its atmospheric charge. It landed with a lingering gravity.

“Grand Pas Classique,” after Victor Gsovsky, brought Sooha Park and Daniel Guzmán together in a test of clarity, balance and poise. Park’s technique was finely calibrated, with balances that arrived without strain and unfolded with calm intention. Guzmán met the variation’s demands with strong elevation and steady landings. In partnering, he provided the clean frame that allowed Park’s line to extend without interruption. Their performance gave the work its intended sheen.

The evening closed with Jerome Robbins’ “Interplay,” shaped as a four-part suite — Free Play, Horseplay, Byplay and Team Play — performed by the full ensemble in various configurations: Maximilian Catazaro, YeonSeo Choi, Ptolemy Gidney, Paloma Livellara, Delfina Nelson-Todd, Geonhee Park, Younjae Park and Audrey Tovar-Dunster among them.

Robbins draws dancers into a buoyant mix of classical line and Broadway-inflected rhythm, and the company leaned into the blend. Free Play moved with bright rhythmic exchanges and quick-snap timing; Horseplay gave Geonhee Park room to show easy lift; Byplay found relaxed rapport among Choi, Catazaro and the company; and Team Play brought the full ensemble forward in a playful, confident finish.

The repertory itself carried notable stakes. In the pre-performance Q&A, Radetsky mentioned that Tharp had long resisted releasing “Cornbread” to dancers this young, believing the piece too demanding. Her eventual agreement, and the way the dancers met the challenge, spoke to the company’s current level.

Throughout the evening, small traces of effort surfaced — a pirouette that adjusted before settling, a landing that softened into place, an arabesque that breathed once before arriving, an ensemble line that wavered before finding its symmetry, a partnering exchange approached with a hint of caution. These were not shortcomings but moments where the dancers’ reach became visible, the line between training and profession momentarily illuminated.

Presenting the Studio Company also reaffirmed the legacy of Dance St. Louis itself — a cultural institution now in its sixth decade. Since its founding in 1966, it has brought more than 30,000 artists, 500 companies and over 150 world premieres to local audiences. As one of only four nonprofit organizations in the United States devoted solely to presenting dance, it stands as a rare survivor and a vital part of the city’s artistic landscape. Evenings like this underscore its role not simply as a presenter of great works but as a home where dance lives, evolves and continues to matter.

Dance St. Louis presented ABT Studio Company November 14-15 at the Touhill Performing Arts Center.

By CB Adams

To appreciate the exceptional experience of “Color Into Form Into Sound” — the clarity, intimacy and high-caliber artistry within the Pulitzer Arts Foundation’s concrete calm — it helps to understand the why behind the evening.

Curated by Christopher Stark, composer and professor at Washington University in St. Louis, the program invited listeners to consider how music, space and visual art illuminate one another. Inside Tadao Ando’s serene geometry, four musicians from the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra shaped an evening where sound behaved like form, breath became structure and attention felt like devotion.

As Stark shared in his opening remarks, the program grew directly from Jennie C. Jones’ listening life. Jones lives with contemporary classical music in her studio, especially works by pioneering Black composers who bridge classical lineage with improvisational energy, and she offered Stark the pieces and voices that inform her world. He spoke with admiration for how intuitively her surfaces and these sonic landscapes connect — tone, texture and resonance moving easily between gallery and score.

He also noted acoustic affinities between Jones’ layered materials, which recall studio treatments designed to address sound, and the Pulitzer’s concrete hush. A quiet echo of Miles Davis hovered in that framing — his belief that “a painting is music you can see, and music is a painting you can hear” felt beautifully at home. With that sensibility, Stark curated solo and small-ensemble works that met the room, the art and our listening with clarity and presence.

Jones’ exhibition and the Pulitzer’s tranquil architecture created a receptive space where breath and resonance felt almost architectural. Against this backdrop, the program brought together four groundbreaking voices — Carlos Simon, Alvin Singleton, George Lewis and Pauline Oliveros — each offering a distinct approach to line, rhythm and listening. Simon, Singleton and Lewis stand among the pioneering Black composers who have shaped contemporary classical and improvisational music, and Oliveros offered a complementary Deep Listening dimension rooted in awareness and breath. Heard inside Jones’ world of tuned surfaces and charged quiet, the works formed a sonic exhibition, each piece focused and individually framed, inviting the audience to lean in and listen with care.

Simon’s “Silence,” performed by cellist Bjorn Ranheim, and “Move It,” played by flutist Andrea Kaplan on alto flute, revealed the physical and expressive demands of his writing. The musicians approached these works like elite athletes at peak form, shaping tone and breath with clarity and vigor. Kaplan drove through “Move It” with a stamina that felt architectural in its discipline, while Ranheim revealed taut strength beneath “Silence,” each bow stroke carrying sculptural intention. In “Between Worlds,” double bassist David DeRiso extended Simon’s sense of grounded lyricism, giving the instrument weight, lift and presence.

Singleton’s “In My Own Skin,” performed by Peter Henderson, offered a vivid demonstration of musical command — a flourishing traversal through a score that carried the room with it, idea by idea. Kaplan returned for Singleton’s “Argoru III,” shaping sound and silence with poised clarity, each gesture finely articulated.

In Lewis’ “Endless Shout,” Henderson again proved a compelling guide, allowing musical thought to move with conversational ease, alert to both structure and spontaneous color.

Oliveros’ “Horse Sings From Cloud,” performed by Kaplan, Ranheim, DeRiso and Henderson, asked performers and listeners to treat tone, breath, silence and space as equal materials. This performance felt quietly luminous, meditative and humming, the result of disciplined listening and collective trust. Silence breathed differently here, less like absence than a living medium in which sound appeared and receded. The effect was gently sublime, delivering a moment of stillness that settled the room into a deeper register of experience.

The connection between Jones’ work and these sounds lived in sensibility rather than illustration. Stark’s framing centered Jones’ listening — an invitation to imagine her in the studio with these composers sounding around her, much as one imagines Basquiat painting with Parker or Gillespie in the air. Music and art infused, each informing the other as parallel commitments to color, energy and imagination.

The gallery was full, and the audience listened with a calm, steady attentiveness that felt in tune with the room and the music — a presence that reflected both the strength of the SLSO community and St. Louis enthusiasm for programs where contemporary music and visual art meet in shared focus. Cross-disciplinary evenings like this affirm how vividly the arts speak to one another when we move among galleries, stages and concert halls, embracing perspectives shaped by diverse voices and modern compositional language.

The evening also affirmed the value of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra’s Live at the Pulitzer series, which brings adventurous programming into conversation with contemporary art and architecture. As the final tones settled, the space held a gentle afterglow, as though the music had entered the walls as quietly and surely as Jones’ works inhabit them.

Her pieces remain on view, and the evening’s sounds may still hover in the gallery air — a testament to curation grounded in discernment and performances shaped by devotion, the kind of experience that lingers and encourages us toward the fullness of artistic experience across forms.

St. Louis Symphony Orchestra: Live at the Pulitzer performed “Color Into Form Into Sound” on Nov. 4 at the Pulitzer Arts Foundation.

Photo Credit: Courtesy of the Pulitzer Arts Foundation. Photography by Chris Bauer.

By CB Adams

Union Avenue Opera’s inaugural One-Act Festival is intimate in scale and ambitious in reach, a chamber-sized gesture that embraces the big questions shaping our moment — race, gender, justice, identity.

By pairing “dwb (driving while black)” and “As One,” the company affirmed opera’s ability to thrive in spectacle and in distillation, to fill a grand hall and also to transform a close space into a forum for empathy.

Marsha Thompson in “dwb (driving while black)

“dwb (driving while black)” — Urgency in Compression

“dwb (driving while black),” composed by Susan Kander with words by Roberta Gumbel, follows a Black mother from the moment of birth through the long arc of raising a son. The opera charts a continuum of love, vigilance and reluctant instruction in how to survive, compressing years into a concentrated meditation.

Soprano Marsha Thompson brought to the role a warm, agile soprano with strength and flexibility. She carries emotional nuance through her upper and middle registers and meets its dramatic demands with secure technique — qualities evident in her performances elsewhere in roles such as Violetta, Aïda and Tosca.

Her familiarity with the part, including past performances with Fort Worth Opera, lent her assurance and depth. She moved from tenderness to unease with natural poise, always anchoring the story in a mother’s love.

Director Ivan Griffin staged the work with economy, allowing the smallest gestures to resonate. The motif of shoes — baby shoes, boyhood sneakers, grown-up lace-ups — provided a visual shorthand eloquent in its simplicity.

In a festival devoted to brevity, this staging showed how objects can tell stories and how music can give them voice.

“As One” — Duality and Discovery

“As One,” by Laura Kaminsky with Mark Campbell and Kimberly Reed, is the most performed contemporary opera in North America, and Union Avenue’s staging marked its first appearance in St. Louis. The milestone carried weight, and the company embraced it fully.

The opera follows Hannah, a transgender woman, through two voices — lyric baritone Evan Bravos as “Hannah Before” and lyric mezzo-soprano Emma Dickens, a St. Louis artist, as “Hannah After.”

Bravos, with his impressive range, has performed the role with Opera Santa Barbara and other companies, and his experience gave him a confident presence that anchored the evening.

Emma Dickens and Evan Bravos.

Dickens sang with warmth, flexibility and a rich middle voice, her local presence giving the work an added resonance. Together they created a dialogue of memory and emergence that edged, with beauty and persuasion, toward unity.

The production of “As One” also included a visual narrative of still photographs and video to illustrate Hannah’s journey. These images complemented the action thoughtfully, and yet the magnetism of Bravos and Dickens drew attention primarily to their interplay. I

n a larger space, projected more expansively, the visuals could carry greater weight; in the gallery setting, the storytelling was carried most powerfully by the singers themselves.

Director Joan Lipkin, in her opera debut, emphasized resilience and humor, qualities underscored by Scott Schoonover’s musical direction. Kaminsky’s score is rhythmic and lyrical, and Reed’s lived experience infused the libretto with authenticity. Together the creative team shaped a work of immediacy and poignancy.

Scott Schoonover, Nikki Glenn, Stephen Luehrman, Marie Brown, and Manuela Topalbegovic. 

The Music and the Musicians

Both operas gained strength from committed playing and Schoonover’s clear leadership. In “dwb,” the pairing of cello and percussion created a spare frame that heightened the impact of Thompson’s performance.

In “As One,” Kaminsky’s writing unfolded with beauty and urgency, performed with conviction by Bravos and Dickens and balanced with clarity by the ensemble. The result was music-making that embraced intimacy and carried emotional sweep.

Union Avenue’s One-Act Festival ran Oct. 10–12 in the gallery of Union Avenue Christian Church.

Marsha Erwin, Marsha Thompson, and Sebastian Buhts.

By CB Adams
It is a rare pleasure to encounter “Salome,” Richard Strauss’s 1905 masterpiece (after Oscar Wilde’s scandalous play), on a St. Louis stage. Union Avenue Opera’s production reminds us that even in a modest house, this one-act psychodrama retains its power to disturb.

The evening offered superlative singing across the board, a moody if sometimes murky staging and Strauss’s extraordinary score rendered with clarity and bite by a chamber-sized orchestra that, under Scott Schoonover, sounded far larger than its 23 players.

The vocal achievement was formidable. St. Louis’s own Kelly Slawson brought fearlessness and stamina to the punishing title role, her dramatic soprano slicing cleanly through Strauss’s post-Wagnerian textures. The part notoriously demands everything from flights of coloratura to plunges into the contralto register along with sheer brute endurance.

Slawson met those challenges with assurance, shaping a Salome who was as predatory as she was magnetic. She infused the role with a heavy-metal intensity — thrilling, unsettling and never bland.

Opposite her, baritone Daniel Scofield supplied a commanding Jochanaan, his resonant timbre and prophetic fire holding the line against Salome’s obsessive advances.

Daniel Scofield, Kelly Slawson. Photo by Dan Donovan.

Will Upham’s Herod was appropriately febrile, a portrait of jittery decadence, while Joanna Ehlers’s Herodias offered caustic bite and a Wildean cynicism delivered with relish.

Brian Skoog (Narraboth) brought pathos to his brief trajectory, Emily Geller (the Page) added androgynous ambiguity and the quintet of Jews (Zachary Devin, Thomas M. Taylor IV, David Morgans, James Stevens, Fitzgerald St Louis) bickered with crisp ensemble precision. It was a cast without weak voices.

For all its musical strengths, the staging stumbled at two moments of dramatic consequence. The first misstep came early in the opera with Narraboth’s suicide. Poorly blocked, the scene left the audience’s eye on Salome rather than the lovesick captain.

His awkward, almost perfunctory thrust of the sword could have been missed entirely, thereby diluting Herod’s subsequent questions about the bloodied corpse. What should resonate as the opera’s first shocking rupture barely registered.

Will Upham and Joanna Ehlers. Photo by Dan Donovan.

The Dance of the Seven Veils, the opera’s centerpiece, likewise faltered. Slawson committed herself wholly, but the choreography lurched from abrupt pivots to ground- wriggling, from a parody of Norma Desmond to burlesque flourishes, all without discernible logic. A needless ascent and descent of the steps only deepened the sense of randomness.

At one point she barked toward the chorus; at another, the sequence spun into manic incoherence. The result brought to mind Brad Pitt’s turn in “12 Monkeys” — all nervous tics, sudden lunges and wide-eyed mania, as though every acting exercise had been flung on stage at once.

In a film, that kind of method-to-madness can be riveting; in this opera, it scattered the focus of a moment that should be singularly hypnotic. As a seduction meant to clinch the opera’s fatal bargain, the dance distracted rather than compelled — a pity, given the strength of the surrounding production.

Kelly Slawson as Salome. Photo by Dan Donovan.

Schoonover drew exceptional results from the orchestra. Strauss scored “Salome” for more than a hundred musicians, but Union Avenue performed it using Francis Griffin’s reduced orchestration for 23 players. In Schoonover’s hands, the ensemble produced a luminous, incisive sound that never swamped the singers while still carrying the music’s unsettling erotic charge.

Union Avenue’s “Salome” deserves praise as a rare and rewarding opportunity (despite its missteps) to encounter Strauss’s modernist milestone. Vocally and musically, it was a triumph; dramatically, it remained absorbing despite missteps. For audiences willing to face opera at its most decadent and disturbing, this production more than justified the journey.

Union Avenue Opera’s production of “Salome” was performed Aug. 15, 16, 22 and 23 at the Union Avenue Christian Church

The cast of “Salome.” Photo by Dan Donovan.
Daniel Scofield. Photo by Dan Donovan.

Emily Geller, Brian Skoog. Photo by Dan Donovan

By CB Adams

Tesseract Theatre Company’s “Steel Magnolias,” written by Robert Harling, injects fresh energy into the beloved Southern story of humor, friendship, and resilience. Set in 1980s Louisiana, this all-POC cast delivers a dynamic portrayal of the play, delightfully focusing on Chinquapin Parish while also subtly acknowledging the broader cultural diversity of the South today.

Director Kathryn Bentley captures this complexity, infusing the play with vitality and relevance, while honoring its themes of love, family, and the unbreakable bonds of friendship. Come for the steel, but definitely stay for the magnolias—where the play’s true strength lies in its heartfelt portrayal of friendship.

Director Kathryn Bentley’s focus on ensemble chemistry is evident throughout the production. She ensures that each performer’s strengths are highlighted, with an emphasis on the emotional resonance of the play’s central relationships. Her work allows the transitions from humor to pathos to feel seamless, capturing both the joy and sorrow that characterize this story of enduring friendship.

Margery Handy as M’Lynn.

The cast’s performances further enrich this production, providing a nuanced portrayal of the play’s central relationships. Margery A. Handy’s performance as M’Lynn is compelling, grounded in quiet intensity and vulnerability. Handy moves effortlessly from concern to grief, offering a deeply human portrayal that resonates with authenticity.

Lynett Vallejo brings an infectious energy to the stage, her portrayal of Shelby filled with optimism and warmth. Vallejo navigates the lighter moments with ease, while ensuring the emotional complexity of her character’s choices is felt.

Victoria Pines and Tammy O’Donnell offer sharp comedic performances as Clairee and Ouiser, respectively. Pines blends dry humor and warmth with impeccable timing, while O’Donnell’s larger-than-life presence brings bold humor to her character. Their interactions provide a much-needed balance of levity against the emotional core of the play.

Joana Dominguez’s Truvy anchors the beauty shop with a welcoming charm, her natural generosity infusing the character with warmth and sincerity. As Annelle, Lily Self-Miller offers a grounded portrayal of transformation, though her pacing and diction at times falter, which slightly detracts from her delivery.

Brittanie Gunn’s scenic design impeccably captures the essence of the 1980s beauty shop, transforming the stage into a vibrant, authentic space. From the retro furnishings to the meticulously arranged details, Gunn creates a setting that feels both lived-in and iconic.

The beauty shop’s intimate, inviting atmosphere is established with careful attention to the smallest elements, offering a convincing backdrop for the characters’ personal stories to unfold. It’s a space that feels like home, adding a layer of warmth and realism to the production.

The result is a production that feels both timeless and newly relevant, showing that the bonds of friendship and family are universal, regardless of time, place, or circumstance.

Tesseract Theatre’s production of “Steel Magnolias” runs July 24-Aug. 10 at The Marcelle performing arts center. Visit https://tesseracttheatreco.org for more information.

By CB Adams

Once considered the sacred domain of soaring arias and tragic finales, the modern opera house has become an increasingly hospitable venue for the American musical. As audiences diversify and box offices face familiar headwinds, opera companies on both sides of the Atlantic are redrawing the boundary lines between Puccini and Porter, Mozart and Lerner & Loewe. These incursions into Broadway territory are not merely pragmatic gestures toward sustainability — though the allure of fresh demographics and fuller houses certainly plays its part. They also reflect a shift in artistic priorities: a recalibration of high and low, serious and popular, in which mid-century musicals once dismissed as cultural confections are now approached with curatorial seriousness and full orchestral forces.

The result is a kind of genre détente, one that invites reconsideration of works like “Carousel,” “West Side Story” and “My Fair Lady” for their melodic richness as well as for their dramatic substance. Yet this recontextualization brings with it inevitable tensions. Operatic grandeur can deepen a musical’s emotional resonance, but it can just as easily flatten the vernacular texture that gives it heart. When the scale tilts too far toward vocal opulence, the quicksilver wit of a lyric or the intimacy of a book scene can dissipate into the rafters.

Dress rehearsal on July 2, 2025 for Union Avenue Opera’s production of My Fair Lady.

Union Avenue Opera’s “My Fair Lady” steps confidently into this evolving conversation — not as novelty or gimmick but as a fully realized statement of intent. Directed with restraint and elegance by Annamaria Pileggi, the production embraces the vocal and orchestral might of the opera house without losing sight of the musical’s theatrical spine. Unlike the heavily amplified Broadway revivals of recent decades, this staging offers an unamplified vocal experience, restoring a kind of sonic intimacy that harkens back to the musical’s 1956 premiere.

In the resonant acoustics of the opera house, spoken scenes and sung lines alike are given a natural immediacy — less glossy perhaps but more present, more human. The staging honors the show’s Edwardian polish while allowing its class-conscious undercurrents to simmer beneath the surface, even though some of the lines are lost (thank goodness for the supertitles!).

Much depends, of course, on the cast’s ability to navigate the delicate terrain between speech and song, between character and caricature. Here, the company largely succeeds, with performers who favor nuance over bombast and clarity over excess. The result is a “My Fair Lady” that reads not as a nostalgic nod to a bygone era but as a reclamation — of the work’s musical sophistication, certainly, but also of its enduring cultural bite, the proof of which may be the capacity audience at the July 6 matinee that I attended.

Dress rehearsal on July 2, 2025 for Union Avenue Opera’s production of My Fair Lady.

Musically, this “My Fair Lady” rests on a solid and sensitive orchestral foundation, conducted with finesse by Scott Schoonover, who also serves as UAO’s artistic director. Under his baton, the orchestra delivers Loewe’s lush, deceptively intricate score with clarity and warmth, never overwhelming the singers but instead supporting them with a rhythmic and emotional pliancy that elevates each number. It’s in the music — and in the vocal performances — that this production finds its center of gravity.

Freed from amplification, the voices bloom naturally in the hall, allowing phrasing, diction and dynamic shading to emerge with expressive immediacy. The decision to emphasize vocal and musical integrity over spectacle and fashion show proves a wise one. Though the scenic and visual design elements — Patrice J. Nelms’s versatile set, Teresa Doggett’s handsome period costumes, Patrick Huber’s unobtrusively evocative lighting and Melissa Wohlwend’s hats for Eliza — are all executed with polish, they serve as framing devices rather than focal points. This is a “My Fair Lady” that trusts the power of the human voice and live orchestra to carry the story — and earns that trust measure by measure.

At the heart of the production is Brooklyn Snow’s Eliza Doolittle, sung with a bright, ringing soprano and acted with a keen sense of Eliza’s evolving dignity. Snow navigates the character’s transformation with nuance, never sacrificing vocal precision for theatrical flourish. Her Eliza is neither overly precious nor overly hardened — a young woman who claims her own space in both Covent Garden and Embassy ballroom with equal conviction.

As Freddy Eynsford-Hill, Charles Calotta brings a youthful sincerity and a lyric tenor well-suited to “On the Street Where You Live,” which he delivers with a blend of open-hearted charm and vocal finesse. Calotta’s performance of this signature song is one of the highlights in this production.

Dress rehearsal on July 2, 2025 for Union Avenue Opera’s production of My Fair Lady.

Both Calotta and Trevor Martin, as the irascibly brilliant Henry Higgins, make impressive UAO debuts, as does veteran performer Steve Isom as the affably genteel Colonel Pickering. Martin’s Higgins is crisply articulated and appropriately cantankerous, yet avoids caricature. He finds flashes of vulnerability without softening the character’s harder edges. Isom brings warmth and ease to Pickering, serving as a steady counterbalance to Higgins’ intellectual bluster.

The supporting cast adds welcome texture and levity to the production, with several notable debuts. Paul Houghtaling makes a robust UAO entrance as Alfred P. Doolittle, Eliza’s roguish father. His affable bluster and rhythmic command enliven both of his big numbers — “With a Little Bit of Luck” and “Get Me to the Church on Time” — infusing them with energy and comic timing without tipping into excess.

Jennifer Theby-Quinn brings a crisp, clear-eyed presence to Mrs. Pearce, Higgins’ housekeeper, offering gentle authority that grounds the increasingly absurd domestic dynamics. And in scene-stealing turn, Donna Weinsting makes her company debut as Mrs. Higgins, Henry’s long-suffering mother. With pitch-perfect timing and a dry delivery that cuts like a well-honed butter knife, Weinsting elicits some of the evening’s most well-earned laughs. Together, these performers enhance the production’s character-driven approach, ensuring that even the secondary roles feel finely drawn and fully inhabited.

Dress rehearsal on July 2, 2025 for Union Avenue Opera’s production of My Fair Lady.

With “My Fair Lady,” Union Avenue Opera continues to demonstrate how a company rooted in traditional opera can expand its artistic reach without diluting its core identity. This production doesn’t chase Broadway spectacle or attempt to reinvent the musical; instead, it honors the integrity of the score and text while allowing the company’s operatic strengths — vocal rigor, live orchestration and musical detail — to illuminate the work anew. In doing so, UAO joins a growing chorus of opera houses exploring how canonical musicals can thrive in an acoustic, classically inflected setting.

If this “My Fair Lady” is any indication, such ventures are viable additions to the repertoire and not mere programming novelties. At a time when both opera and musical theater are searching for sustainable futures, productions like this one remind us that the border between genres is not a line to be guarded but a threshold to be crossed.

Union Avenue Opera’s “My Fair Lady” runs July 6-7 and 11-12 at the Union Avenue Christian Church. For more information: https://unionavenueopera.org.

Dress rehearsal on July 2, 2025 for Union Avenue Opera’s production of My Fair Lady.

Photos by Dan Donovan

By CB Adams

In Opera Theatre of Saint Louis’ shimmering new production of Benjamin Britten’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” the familiar Shakespearean tale is reborn with a rare blend of musical precision, visual poetry and theatrical wit.

Under the baton of maestro Leonard Slatkin and the direction of Tim Albery, this staging is less a retelling than a re-enchantment—an immersive journey into a world where fairies glide, lovers quarrel and rustic clowns stumble through tragedy with comic brilliance.

The production is anchored by a cast of world-class singers and actors, each bringing nuance and vitality to their roles. The creative team, led by designer Emma Kingsbury, conjures a forest that breathes and transforms while the children’s chorus and mechanicals add layers of charm and humor.

What follows is a breakdown of the production’s key contributors—principal cast, lovers, mechanicals, fairies and creatives—each of whom helps weave this dream into something unforgettable.

Puck (Matisse Carmack) lays a spell upon a sleeping Lysander (Anthony León) in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo © Eric Woolsey

Principal Cast

The heart of Britten’s dreamscape lies in the ethereal authority of its fairy royalty. Oberon and Tytania, portrayed with vocal finesse and dramatic poise, anchor the supernatural world with a sense of grandeur and mystery. Puck, though silent in song, is a kinetic presence who threads the narrative with mischief and grace.

  • James Laing – Oberon: A commanding OTSL debut, Laing’s countertenor voice is smooth and powerful, embodying the regal and mystical presence of the fairy king.
  • Jana McIntyre – Tytania: Also making her OTSL debut, McIntyre dazzles with a silvery bel canto soprano, bringing both elegance and emotional depth to the fairy queen.
  • Matisse Carmack – Puck: In this non-singing role, Carmack is a kinetic force—quick, agile and mischievous. Her delivery of Puck’s final monologue is masterful.
Tytania (Jana McIntyre) embraces Bottom (Ben Brady) as her bemused fairies (L to R: Laura Santamaria, Veronica Siebert, Emilie Kealani, and Zoe Brooks) look on in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo © Eric Woolsey

The Lovers

The quartet of young lovers brings emotional volatility and romantic confusion to the forest, their entanglements rendered with vocal clarity and dramatic charm. Each performer navigates the shifting affections and magical manipulations with humor and heart, grounding the opera’s fantasy in human longing.

  • Anthony Léon – Lysander: A strong and expressive tenor, Léon brings warmth and charm to the role.
  • Jennifer Johnson Cano – Hermia: A returning OTSL favorite, Cano delivers a sterling performance with emotional nuance and vocal richness.
  • Theo Hoffman – Demetrius: A standout among the lovers, Hoffman’s powerful baritone is one of the production’s vocal highlights.
  • Teresa Parrotta – Helena: Parrotta brings humor and heart to Helena, rounding out the quartet with a vibrant performance.
Ben Brady as Bottom in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo © Eric Woolsey

The Rude Mechanicals

Comic relief arrives in the form of the “rude mechanicals,” whose earnest attempt at theatrical tragedy becomes a riotous farce. Their scenes are a masterclass in physical comedy and ensemble timing, with Bottom’s transformation into an ass providing one of the production’s most memorable visual gags.

  • Ben Brady – Bottom: A comedic triumph, Brady is hilarious in both human and donkey form. The donkey’s head is described as a miracle of stagecraft—realistic with a moving mouth that allows Brady’s voice to project clearly and powerfully.
  • Christian Sanders – Thisbe: Sanders delights with a playful and endearing portrayal of Thisbe.
  • Robert Mellon, Dylan Gregg, Adam Partridge, Sam Krausz – Mechanicals Ensemble: This troupe delivers classic low-comic charm, wringing every laugh from their vaudevillian rehearsal scenes.
Tytania (Jana McIntyre) embraces Bottom (Ben Brady) as her bemused fairies (L to R: Laura Santamaria, Veronica Siebert, Emilie Kealani, and Zoe Brooks) look on in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo © Eric Woolsey

The Fairies & Children’s Chorus

The enchanted forest is populated by a chorus of fairy sprites, led by four charming attendants. Their presence adds a layer of visual and vocal delicacy, transforming the stage into a living, breathing dreamscape. The children’s chorus, under expert direction, brings both innocence and eerie beauty to the production.

  • Emily Kealani – Cobweb
  • Veronica Siebert – Mustardseed
  • Laura Santamaria – Peaseblossom
  • Zoe Brooks – Moth: These young performers lead the children’s chorus with grace and whimsy, adding a magical layer to the production.
  • St. Louis Children’s Choruses – Fairy Sprites: A visual and vocal delight, these young singers enhance the enchanted forest with charm and precision.
Thisbe (Christian Sanders) and Pyramus (Ben Brady) speak through the Wall (Sam Krausz) as Theseus (Jose Olivares) and Hippolyta (Michelle Mariposa) watch their play in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo © Eric Woolsey

Creative Team

Behind the scenes, a visionary creative team shapes the production’s aesthetic and emotional tone. From the conductor’s podium to the costume shop, each contributor brings a distinct artistry that elevates the opera’s dreamlike world. Their collaboration results in a production that is as visually arresting as it is musically rich.

  • Tim Albery – Stage Director: Albery’s minimalist Shakespearean-inspired staging is both magical and emotionally resonant.
  • Emma Kingsbury – Scenic & Costume Designer: Her designs are exquisite with transformative sets and timeless costumes that elevate the production’s visual storytelling.
  • Krystal Balleza & Will Vicari – Wig & Makeup Designers: Their work is brilliant, especially in crafting the ethereal looks of the fairy realm.
  • Seán Curran – Choreographer: Curran’s choreography adds fluidity and charm, enhancing the dreamlike atmosphere.
  • Leonard Slatkin – Conductor: A celebrated return to OTSL, Slatkin leads the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra with finesse, bringing Britten’s haunting score to life.
  • Andrew Whitfield – Chorus Master: His direction of the children’s chorus is superb, contributing to some of the production’s most enchanting moments.
Jose Olivares as Duke Theseus and Michelle Mariposa as Queen Hippolyta in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo © Eric Woolsey

Cover Photo: Oberon (James Laing), Tytania (Jana McIntyre), and the fairies bless the slumbering household at the end of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Photo © Eric Woolsey

By CB Adams

Opera Theatre of Saint Louis has always balanced reverence for tradition with a bold embrace of innovation, and its 50th anniversary season is no exception. The world premiere of “This House,” a new commission, looks squarely at the present and future of American opera (through and examination of the past), while the season’s revival of Donizetti’s “Don Pasquale” casts a backward glance—albeit through a sharply contemporary lens.

In remounting the company’s inaugural production from 1976, director Christopher Alden returns not with nostalgia, but with a bracingly modern aesthetic that reimagines the comic core of “Don Pasquale” as a meditation on aging, delusion and desire.

Alden, known for his psychologically incisive and visually stylized productions, sets the action in a Rococo-inspired espresso bar (by way of Botero and Fellini) populated by grotesque old men—figures who mirror the titular character’s absurd longing for youth. The setting is witty and revealing, a hallmark of Alden’s work, and it allows the production to comment on the opera’s themes without sacrificing its buoyant charm.

Sheri Greenawald, who played Norina in the original 1976 staging, returns in a newly created role as the espresso bar proprietor and faux notary. Though the role is modest in scale, Greenawald’s presence is quietly commanding, and her final duet with Susanne Burgess adds a poignant, intergenerational resonance to the production.

Susanne Burgess as Norina with (L to R) Sheri Greenawald as the Notary, Kyle Miller as Dr. Malatesta, and Patrick Wilhelm as the Waiter in Don Pasquale. Photo by Eric Woolsey

The creative team is uniformly strong. Marsha Ginsberg’s set and costume designs are richly evocative, from the frescoed walls and oversized granite-patterned floor to the exaggerated silhouettes that underscore the opera’s farcical elements.

Krystal Balleza and Will Vicari’s wigs and makeup heighten the grotesquerie, while Eric Southern’s lighting and the inventive use of video and shadow in Act Three add layers of visual storytelling. Seán Curran’s choreography, particularly in the Act Two finale, is a kinetic delight, echoing the protagonist’s unraveling psyche with physical wit.

One of the most striking aspects of this production is its use of English—a choice that proves both practical and profound. While operas often lose some of their musicality or nuance in translation, this Don Pasquale gains immediacy and clarity, allowing the humor and emotional stakes to land with unforced precision with an English translation by Phyllis Mead. The vernacular enhances accessibility as well as also deepens the audience’s connection to the characters’ foibles and desires.

This aligns with a long-standing debate in American opera circles, dating back (at least) to 1908 when critic Henry Krehbiel observed that opera in America would remain “experimental” until “the vernacular becomes the language of the performance and native talent provides both works and interpreters.”

(L to R) Patrick Carfizzi as Don Pasquale and Kyle Miller as Dr. Malatesta in Don Pasquale. Photo by Eric Woolsey

More than a century later, Opera Theatre of Saint Louis proves the prescience of Krehbiel’s vision. By embracing English, the company underscores its commitment to making opera a living, breathing art form—rooted in tradition, yet unmistakably of the moment.

This linguistic approach also distinguishes OTSL within the broader St. Louis opera landscape. While OTSL performs exclusively in English to foster immediacy and inclusivity, Union Avenue Opera often presents works in their original languages, preserving the musical and cultural authenticity of the repertoire. Winter Opera St. Louis similarly favors original-language performances, particularly in its focus on classic Italian and French works.

Together, these companies offer a rich spectrum of operatic expression—balancing accessibility with tradition—and contribute to a vibrant, multilingual arts scene that reflects the diversity and sophistication of St. Louis’s theater and entertainment culture.

Musically, the production is anchored by Kensho Watanabe’s elegant conducting of the St. Louis Symphony, which brings Donizetti’s score to life with warmth and precision. The orchestra does more than underscore the action; it articulates its momentum, its pauses, its turns.

Sheri Greenawald as the Notary in Don Pasquale. Sheri played Norina in OTSL’s first-ever production of the same title on May 22, 1976. Photo by Eric Woolsey

Far from a passive presence in the pit, it engages in a dynamic exchange with the stage—less an accompaniment than a co-author of the drama. Watanabe’s sensitivity to the singers and the comic pacing of the bel canto style is evident in the subtle dynamics and impeccable timing throughout.

The chorus, under Andrew Whitfield, is a comic force in its own right, first as leering old men and later as a chorus of women under Norina’s rule.

Among the principals, Patrick Carfizzi’s Don Pasquale is a masterclass in comic timing and pathos. He brings clarity and vocal lucidity to the role, embodying the pompous bachelor with a mix of bluster and vulnerability. Kyle Miller’s Malatesta is a charismatic schemer, his bold baritone matched by an energetic, almost acrobatic stage presence.

The ongoing sight gags with his pork pie hat were a nice touch of visual whimsy and an indication of the level of attention to detail that reveals the production’s quality (that is, they sweated the details).

Susanne Burgess (center) as Norina with members of the chorus in Don Pasquale. Photo by Eric Woolsey

Charles Sy’s Ernesto offers a sweet, lyrical tenor that soars in his serenade to Norina, a moment of romantic magic that culminates in a duet of sublime beauty. As Norina, Susanne Burgess dazzles with a performance that is both vocally virtuosic and emotionally grounded.

Her coloratura passages are delivered with effortless charm, and her comedic instincts are as sharp as her high notes are stratospheric. If forced to choose from the cast, Burgess’ performance was a knock-out, stand-out.

Adding to the comic texture is baritone Patrick Wilhelm in a delightful turn as the waiter-servant-factotum. His silent antics—managing Norina’s extravagant gown, delivering messages with canine devotion, and bouncing through scenes with Chaplinesque flair—contribute to the production’s surrealist tone.

That surrealism is further amplified by Alden’s visual wit: Don Pasquale perched Edith-Ann-like (ala the vintage “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In” television show) in an oversized chair; a veiled Sofronia wheeled in on a dessert cart like a birthday surprise; and a lavish shopping spree that name-drops every luxury brand from Armani to Ferrari.

Norina’s ritzy entourage spans a spectrum of chic identities, and her redecorating spree replaces Pasquale’s furnishings with pastel sectionals, which he and Malatesta later use to build a childlike fort.

Ernesto’s serenade is staged with a projected silent film of the lovers strolling through a wooded glen, and silhouette play cleverly underscores the shifting power dynamics—Pasquale literally diminished in Norina’s towering presence.

(L to R) Susanne Burgess as Norina and Charles Sy as Ernesto in Don Pasquale. Photo by Eric Woolsey

At one point, the cast unfurls a banner reading “VIVA LA RESISTENZA,” a gesture that flirts with political commentary but is so deftly woven into the scene that it feels both subversive and theatrically organic—especially as it culminates in the mummy-like wrapping of Sheri Greenawald’s character, blurring the line between satire and stagecraft.

This Don Pasquale is a vivid example of theatrical reinvention. It bridges past and present, celebrating five decades of OTSL’s forward-looking vision. At the risk of sounding highfalutin, this production exemplifies Regietheater—director’s theater—a mode of staging that has become ubiquitous across the global opera landscape.

Yet ubiquity does not guarantee success. What distinguishes this production is how deftly Christopher Alden wields the tools of Regietheater to craft a theatrical experience that is as intellectually stimulating as it is viscerally entertaining. In his hands, Donizetti’s comedy becomes something richer, stranger and altogether more delightful. It’s a production not to be missed.

Opera Theatre of St. Louis’ production of “Don Pasquale” continues in repertory at the Loretto-Hilton Center of Performing Arts at Webster University through June 29. For more information, visit https://opera-stl.org.

(L to R) Patrick Wilhelm as the Waiter and Kyle Miller as Dr. Malatesta in Don Pasquale. Photo by Eric Woolsey



By CB Adams

Set in Harlem’s iconic Sugar Hill—once home to luminaries like W.E.B. Du Bois, Thurgood Marshall and Duke Ellington—”This House,” the new, commissioned opera by composer Ricky Ian Gordon and librettists Lynn Nottage and her daughter, Ruby Aiyo Gerber, arrives at Opera Theatre of St. Louis with sweeping ambition and a world-premiere spotlight.

Its strengths lie in OTSL’s commitment to new works, a fully committed cast, inventive staging and design, and evocative playing by members of the St. Louis Symphony under the direction of principal conductor Daniela Candillari.

The production, directed by James Robinson, features a fine ensemble led by soprano Adrienne Danrich as matriarch Ida and mezzo-soprano Briana Hunter as her daughter Zoe. Baritone Justin Austin brings supple emotional nuance to the role of Lindon, Ida’s son, while Christian Pursell lends warmth and pathos to Thomas, Lindon’s lover.

Tenor Brad Bickhardt portrays Zoe’s husband Glenn, and bass Sankara Harouna takes on the role of Ida’s husband, Milton. The cast is rounded out by soprano Aundi Marie Moore, tenor Victor Ryan Robertson, soprano Brandie Inez Sutton, and mezzo-soprano Krysty Swann.

One of the most compelling presences in the opera is the Walker family’s brownstone itself—less a backdrop than a central character. Over more than a century, it bears witness to couplings, births, betrayals, addiction, activism and grief – among a litany of other human experiences .

(top to bottom) Adrienne Danrich as Ida and Brandie Inez Sutton as Young Ida, with (background) Krysty Swann as Beulah in This House. Photo by Eric Woolsey

It is a house imbued with memory, both sacred and unsettling—a place that might, in real-estate parlance, be labeled a stigmatized property or psychologically impacted. But in family gossip, media headlines or the real talk of buyers and agents, this would be known bluntly as a murder house. And it’s precisely this fraught legacy—how spaces carry the spectral weight of history—that “This House” tries to explore, if not fully resolve.

Composer Ricky Ian Gordon underscores the house’s haunting role by assigning the orchestra’s reed section an eerie vocalise, a ghostly exhale that recurs like a memory trying to resurface. Scenic designer Allen Moyer, video designer Greg Emetaz and lighting designer Marcus Doshi create a visually rich, immersive world that roots the opera’s fragmented narrative in emotional atmosphere.

Moyer, known for “Grey Gardens” and his longtime collaboration with Gordon (“The Grapes of Wrath”), outfits the home with dignified wear and subtle detail—its furnishings shifting over time like the emotional residue of those who’ve passed through. The use of a carousel to move from interior and exterior scenes was as effective as it was impressive.

Emetaz’s excellent cinematic projections add a lyrical visual language that binds characters to time and place. Doshi’s lighting moves seamlessly across eras, illuminating past wounds and present tensions with emotional fluency. And Tony-winning costume designer Montana Levi Blanco’s work grounds the characters with clarity and texture, often accomplishing through wardrobe what the script cannot.

(L to R) Krysty Swann as Beulah and Victor Ryan Robertson as Uncle Percy with (background, L to R) Aundi Marie Moore as Lucy, Adrienne Danrich as Ida, and Sankara Harouna as Milton in This House. Photo by Eric Woolsey

Director Robinson guides the sprawling libretto with attention to pacing and emotional clarity, though the sheer number of narrative threads makes cohesion elusive. The staging is precise, yet the storytelling remains episodic, moving from decade to decade with little connective tissue other than the house itself and the family’s lineage.

The house, for all its beautifully rendered symbolism, ends up standing in for a history that the libretto doesn’t fully explore—a repository of vignetted trauma, legacy and memory that’s often gestured toward rather than meaningfully unpacked.

The cast delivers deeply felt performances that do the best they can to elevate the material. Hunter’s Zoe, a frustrated millennial searching for answers, brings grit and lyrical finesse to a role that could easily feel schematic. Danrich’s Ida exudes quiet strength and vulnerability, her soprano capturing the tension of survival and sorrow.

Austin and Pursell form the opera’s emotional core with understated yet resonant chemistry. Victor Ryan Robertson’s Uncle Percy resonates with presence, embodying the lingering complexities of family and memory.

(L to R) Christian Pursell as Thomas and Justin Austin as Lindon in This House. Photo by Eric Woolsey

Yet despite these achievements, “This House” buckles under the weight of too many competing ideas. Gentrification, addiction, queer identity, generational trauma, cultural legacy—each theme has potential, but none are given enough narrative space to mature.

Characters appear, hint at depth and vanish. Even moments of violence—presumably pivotal—are staged with such abruptness that their emotional impact feels blunted. In this way, the opera mirrors its title too well: a house with many rooms, stories left half-told behind closed doors.

The creative pedigree behind the work raises the stakes. Nottage, a two-time Pulitzer Prize winner in playwriting, is known for emotionally rich, structurally disciplined writing. Gordon, celebrated for his genre-fluid scores and nuanced theatrical sensibility, draws here from a wide palette: ragtime, jazz, gospel, and more.

His ambition is to “place words like a jewel in a ring.” But too often, the music recedes into the background, more atmospheric than dramaturgical. The score supports rather than shapes the action, and its emotional cues—while sometimes lovely—rarely surprise or challenge.

(L to R) Briana Hunter as Zoe and Brad Bickhardt as Glenn in This House. Photo by Eric Woolsey

There are glimpses of brilliance: a melodic motif that pierces, a costume that reveals a character’s arc, a lighting shift that clarifies a ghost’s presence. But the opera’s structure—sprawling and impressionistic—ultimately dilutes its impact. If that was a deliberate choice – and presumably it is – its effect does not satisfy.

In real estate, buyers might walk into a home like the Walkers’ and wonder: Who lived here? What happened in these rooms? “This House” the opera wants to address these questions—the idea that buildings remember—but it gets lost in the hallways. Despite noble intentions and undeniable talent, the result feels less like a unified meditation on lineage and place and more like a haunted, curated scrapbook of ideas—rich in atmosphere, scattered in focus and ultimately more whispered promise than resonant legacy.

Opera Theatre of St. Louis’ production of “This House” continues in repertory at the Loretto-Hilton Center of Performing Arts at Webster University through June 29. For more information, visit https://opera-stl.org.

The Harlem brownstone that is the family home of Minus Walker for more than 100 years. Set designed by Allen Moyer. Briana Hunter as Zoe and Brad Bickhardt as Glenn in This House. Photo by Eric Woolsey

By CB Adams

“Die Fledermaus” is a sparkling comedy of mistaken identities, romantic mischief and champagne-fueled revenge. In Opera Theatre of Saint Louis’s new production, director Shawna Lucey reimagines Johann Strauss II’s classic operetta in the sleek, high-society world of 1960s Manhattan, where cocktail culture and social games set the stage for elegant chaos.

But within this stylish interpretation, there’s something a little new: theft. This “Die Fledermaus” gives new meaning—not just of time and trust, but of the spotlight itself. Nearly every performer finds a moment (or more) to dazzle, tease or upend expectations, and by the curtain call, the show has delivered its comic comeuppance—and it’s stolen your heart. What a way fabulous and fun way to start the company’s current four-opera festival and celebrate its 50th year!

OTSL’s “Die Fledermaus” is a fizzy, stylish delight, reimagining Strauss’s operetta in the sleek, mid-century world of sharp tailoring, cocktail culture and social intrigue. Director Lucey leans into the era’s glamour and satire, crafting a production that feels timeless and freshly minted. The setting proves an ideal backdrop for the operetta’s themes of disguise, flirtation and comic reckoning.

Two scenes in particular showcase the production’s inventiveness and theatrical flair. One is the Act II party, relocated to Prince Orlofsky’s Manhattan penthouse shaken and stirred with a dazzling swirl of martinis, mod fashion and musical mischief. The party becomes a playground for mistaken identities and social games with Kelsey Lauritano’s delightfully eccentric Orlofsky presiding over the chaos like a bemused Warholian host.

Lauritano’s smoky, wine-dark mezzo and magnetic presence give the character a cool detachment and sly charisma. Channeling a touch of Judy Garland glam, Bob Mackie sparkle and the cool mystique of Marlene Dietrich—think, too, of Maurice Chevalier with a Russian accent—she transforms the traditionally male role into a showcase of flair and effortless command.

Sara Gartland shines as Rosalinde, bringing vocal radiance and comic precision to a role that demands transformation and versatility. Her journey from a weary, overlooked housewife to a commanding Hungarian countess is one of the production’s most fun performances.

The role calls for lyrical warmth and agile coloratura, especially in the aria “Klänge der Heimat,” where Gartland’s expressive phrasing and technical finesse reveal Rosalinde’s emotional depth and theatrical flair.

Deanna Breiwick as Adele. Photo by Eric Woolsey.

Deanna Breiwick’s Adele, masquerading as an actress, seizes every comic beat with sparkling wit and vocal agility, her luminous soprano effortlessly navigating the role’s coloratura flourishes. With a stage presence that radiates charm and precision, she blends vocal athleticism with a keen sense of comedic timing, making each moment feel both spontaneous and impeccably crafted.

The visual centerpiece of this production is Robert Innes Hopkins’ dazzling set for the Act II party at Prince Orlofsky’s penthouse—a gleaming, mid-century Manhattan fantasia that perfectly captures the production’s blend of elegance and irony. Known for designs that marry classical structure with theatrical flair, Hopkins creates a space that feels both expansive and intimate, a playground for disguise and deception bathed in sleek lines and shimmering surfaces.

His costume designs are equally impressive, with every character—from leads to ensemble—dressed in looks that evoke period glamour with a wink of camp. Even background figures are meticulously imagined, including one party guest who looked like a vintage Barbie doll come to life, adding layers of visual delight to an already sumptuous scene.

Oscar Olivo as Frosch. Photo by Eric Woolsey.

The other showstopper is the Act III police station scene that shifts gears into full farce, set in a stylized, grungy precinct with “NYPD Blue” and “The French Connection” vibes. Here, the production leans into physical comedy and improvisational energy, with Oscar Olivo’s Frosch, delivering a riotous performance as a world-weary jailer whose antics nearly steal the show.

Robert Mellon’s Frank, the prison warden, is a comic gem, and the ensemble’s timing is razor-sharp. The scene’s loose structure allows for playful invention, and this cast makes the most of it, turning bureaucratic absurdity into comic opportunities.

The cast is uniformly strong, brimming with vocal brilliance and sharp comedic instincts. It’s not easy to pinpoint who deserves the most credit—the singers, Lucey or choreographer Seán Curran—for sustaining such energetic, physically demanding movement across the stage while maintaining vocal clarity. It’s a shared achievement that speaks to the production’s careful coordination and the performers’ versatility.

Edward Nelson’s Gabriel Von Eisenstein is a suave, self-assured figure whose downfall is as satisfying as it is hilarious. Johnathan McCullough brings suave authority to Dr. Falke, his baritone warm, polished, and effortlessly expressive. He shapes each phrase with clarity and control, balancing elegance with a knowing wink.

Robert Mellon as Frank the jail warden. Photo by Eric Woolsey.

Joshua Blue is a scene-stealing (but not too scene-stealing) Alfred, reveling in the character’s theatrical bravado and romantic delusions. His tenor is vibrant and ringing, with a golden tone that soars through Strauss’s lyrical lines. Blue’s voice combines power and warmth, and he uses it with a natural ease that makes Alfred’s over-the-top antics feel hilarious and oddly endearing. His comic instincts are sharp, but it’s the sheer beauty of his singing that elevates the performance beyond caricature.

Sophia Baete brings youthful energy and vocal clarity to Sally, Adele’s sister. Her agile, expressive mezzo and confident stage presence make her a memorable part of the ensemble.

Gregory V. Sliskovich is another comic standout as the hapless lawyer, Dr. Blind, delivering his lines with crisp timing and a keen sense of physical humor. His tenor is bright and flexible, lending a buoyant energy to the role that enhances the character’s frantic absurdity without ever losing vocal finesse.

Edward Nelson as Eisenstein, Johnathan McCullough as Dr. Falke, and Robert Mellon as Frank. Photo by Eric Woolsey,

With gorgeous singing, razor-sharp comic timing and a setting that breathes new life into Strauss’s classic, “Die Fledermaus” at OTSL is a jubilant blend of tradition and reinvention—just as Strauss might have imagined. In the week leading up to the performance, I met three people who admitted they’d never been to an opera and found the idea intimidating. I suspect many opera-goers know people like that.

This production is the perfect invitation—accessible, effervescent and irresistibly fun. And in a time when the arts need all the support they can get, buying a ticket and bringing a newcomer isn’t just a good night out—it’s an investment in the future of live performance.

Opera Theater of St. Louis’ “Die Fledermaus” runs in repertory as part of their festival season through June 29. Visit https://opera-stl.org/.

Party time at Orlofsky’s. Photo by Eric Woolsey.