Chas Adams

Total Post: 52

CB Adams is an award-winning fiction writer and photographer based in the Greater St. Louis area. A former music/arts editor and feature writer for the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, his non-fiction has been published in local, regional and national publications. His literary short stories have been published in more than a dozen literary journals and his fine art photography has been exhibited in more than 40 galley shows nationwide. Adams is the recipient of the Missouri Arts Council’s highest writing awards: the Writers’ Biennial and Missouri Writing!. The Riverfront Times named him, “St. Louis’ Most Under-Appreciated Writer” in 1996.

The Rep Reprises Its Modern Take on Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carol’

The Rep Reprises Its Modern Take on Dickens’ ‘A Christmas Carol’

By CB Adams

Remember that commercial from the late 80s with the tagline, “This is not your father’s Oldsmobile?” The Repertory Theatre of St Louis’s production of “A Christmas Carol” is kinda like that. This is not your father’s, or grandmother’s (or your crazy Aunt Millie’s) adaptation of this Dickensian tale of Ebenezer Scrooge’s war on Christmas. As you survey St. Louis’s rich assortment of holiday offerings (and there truly is a cornucopia that runneth over), this production entices with a shiny, progressive reboot of this Christmas chestnut.  

It’s a new spin on “A Christmas Carol” that’s perfect for those with short attention spans. This adaptation treats the story of Scrooge’s transformation as the plain evergreen upon which the shiny baubles of scenic design (Tim Mackabee), lighting and projections (Seth Reiser and Hana S. Kim), costumes (Dede Ayite), choreography (Kirven Douthit-Boyd) and hip hop choreography (Robert Crenshaw) are hung. Bringing youthful energy to the production are the Webster University conservatory cast, the Big Muddy Dance Company dancers, whose ghost dancers add much to certain key scenes, and a youth ensemble from the Center of Creative Arts.

By flattening the well-known story line whose lead character has been represented by everyone and everything from Alastair Sim and Michael Caine to Bill Murray and Mr. Magoo, this adaptation by Michael Wilson (the same as last year’s) embellishes the story of Scrooge’s transformation with new characters and scenes not in the Dickens novel.

Photo Credit: T Charles Erickson © T Charles Erickson Photography tcharleserickson.photoshelter.com

Upon each of the story’s key moments – Marley’s appearance, visits by the three Spirits, the Cratchit family’s penury, etc. – director Hana S. Sharif hangs contemporary dance numbers, special effects and humorous asides among all the dark, dank Victoriana. The dance is an especially effective component of this adaptation; the inconsistent use of modern colloquialisms – not so much.

The result is a Whitman’s Sampler of a production that tries too hard to provide a little something for every taste.  And like that holiday box, there’s all sorts of chocolates, including a rap-infused “O Come All Ye Faithful,” a Marley who flies up from beneath the stage like a spectral Peter Pan, a dance number that includes The Worm, and a Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come that’s part-Mad Max, part-Blade and part-Gimp from “Pulp Fiction.”

The latter makes his NFL-inspired entrance complete with hoverboard and ravers glasses. This ghost’s entrance is certainly impressive but calls too much attention to itself and pulls you out of the story. It also undercuts the emotional impact of Scrooge recognizing his tombstone – the climax of the story.

The same holds true for the final scene (not in Dickens’s original) with Scrooge hosting a party. This is a well-intentioned addition that hopes to highlight the new, improved Scrooge, but which borrows too much from the final scene in the “White Christmas” movie. It also weakens the intent of Dickens to use this story to examine the plight of the disadvantaged. As Scrooge promises the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, “I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach!”

Photo Credit: T Charles Erickson © T Charles Erickson Photography tcharleserickson.photoshelter.com

Sharif adds another complexity to this production  by double casting of most of the key roles. It was fun (and impressive) to see the way Laakan McHardy played both a doll seller and the Ghost of Christmas Past (the best of the portrayals of the spirits) and Paul Aguirre went from a refreshments vendor to a vampy, over-the-top Christmas Present. Michael James Reed also played double duty as Mrs. Dilber (Scrooge’s housekeeper with shades of “Mrs. Doubtfire”) and the spectral Jacob Marley – how’s that for range!

The roles of Scrooge and Bob Cratchit are played by Guiesseppe Jones and Armando McClain, respectively. McClain provides one of this production’s best and most consistent and balanced portrayals as the long-suffering Cratchit. Ultimately, “A Christmas Carol” hinges on the portrayal of Scrooge. Jones displays an impressive range, which he definitely needs in this adaptation that pivots (sometimes to distraction) from lightheartedly humorous to full-on King Lear-level theatricality. As impressive as Jones was in all his scenes, his performance was often too self-contained and lacked chemistry with the other actors.

Overall, this production is designed with lots of wow-factors to defy you to call it anything but bah-humbug. The success of this approach depends on how you like your Scrooge served up. If you’re seeking the more traditional, ye merry ole England version (I remember one from my youth that included real basset hounds on stage), this isn’t that. To its credit, this adaptation avoids the saccharin Timmy-fell-down-the-well savior sub-narrative of so many other productions. And, it brings a modern sensibility to this timeless, still all-too-relevant story.

The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis presents “A Christmas Carol” November 19–December 30 at the Loretto-Hilton Center, 130 Edgar Road, St. Louis. For tickets or more information, visit: www.repstl.org.

Photo Credit: T Charles Erickson © T Charles Erickson Photography tcharleserickson.photoshelter.com

Winter Opera’s ‘La Rondine’ Takes Flight At Kirkwood PAC

Winter Opera’s ‘La Rondine’ Takes Flight At Kirkwood PAC

By C.B. Adams

I have an acquaintance for whom the terms Puccini and opera are synonymous. For him, opera and the Italians define the artform. Although I don’t agree with his limited definition, I can’t deny that the Italians in general and Giacomo Puccini in particular occupy a special space within the opera canon. That’s why Winter Opera’s production of La Rondine, (music by Puccini with librettists Alfred Maria and Heinz Reichert) was a such a solid, comfortable pleasure.

For reasons not worth reiterating, La Rondine (The Swallow) is not considered one of Puccini’s “greatest hits” but, as my acquaintance might say, “Who cares?! It’s Puccini!” I would duly note his fandom and add that we would all be the poorer if La Rondine weren’t performed periodically, despite its modestness. It’s a good Puccini primer, filled with waltzes, melodies, two arias (one perhaps more famous than the entire rest of the opera) and a duet. It further makes Puccini’s higher-profile operas even more impressive by comparison.

The creative team at Winter Opera chose well with La Rondine because it benefits from a tighter production and the stage at the Kirkwood Performing Arts Center. Smaller is better for this opera, something that scenic designer Scott Loebl and stage director Erica Gibson understood, even as swapped Puccini’s original setting from France’s Second Empire era to the “roaring” 1920s. Amy Hopkins’ costume designs were perfectly matched to the updated era, as well.

The updated setting, replete with a raised chessboard-like black and white floor, allowed Gibson to move the characters move like pawns throughout the action. Although the motivation’s of Magda, especially her decision to return to her “old life” in the conclusion of the third act, aren’t understandable or compelling by modern sensibilities, this doesn’t detract from this production. “Who cares?! It’s Puccini,” is latent throughout.

Photo by Rebecca Haas

Puccini placed the La Rondine’s famous aria, “Chi il bel sogno di Doretta,” early in Act One. The piece’s soaring phrases offer sopranos the opportunity to impress an audience. In Winter Opera’s production, soprano Karen Kanakis as Magda compellingly sang the aria with her lilting, floating top notes. The piece ends with the “What do riches matter if true happiness blossoms?” Kanakis delivers this question with  such truth and honesty that it sets up the tragedy of the finale, which turns this line from rhetorically hopeful into sadly ironic.

Matching Kanakis’ performance was tenor Nathan Schafer as Ruggero. Schafer overcame some of the weaknesses of the character through his performance’s clarity and warmth. His duets with Magda were some of the best, even as he had to animate Ruggero’s one-dimensionality (as written). Equally strong were Nicholas Huff as Prunier, Lauren Nash Silberstein as Lisette and baritone Jacob Lassetter as Rambaldo – as well as the chorus.

Bubbling beneath the Winter Opera singer was the orchestra, conducted by Scott Schoonover, artistic director of Union Avenue Opera. The modest size of the orchestra was enlarged by the restrained size and good acoustics of the Kirkwood Performing Arts Center. 

Winter Opera is off to a terrific start with La Rondine, leaving only the question of how they will meet or exceed this accomplishment with the rest of the season’s offerings – Verdi’s MacBeth in January and Sigmund Romberg’s The Desert Song in March.

Photo by Rebecca Haas

Complexions Contemporary Ballet’s Toe Shoes and Kinky Boots

Complexions Contemporary Ballet’s Toe Shoes and Kinky Boots

By C.B. Adams
While waiting for the curtain to rise on Dance St. Louis’ 57th-season opener on Friday, Nov. 4, I Googled whether David Bowie had ever opined about dance. I was interested because this evening’s performance at the Touhill Performing Arts Center was “Stardust: From Bach to Bowie” by the NYC-based Complexions Contemporary Ballet.

And sure enough, the Google gods provided something Bowie once tossed out to Conan O’Brien: “I don’t know how many times someone has come up to me and said, ‘Hey, Let’s dance!’ I hate dancing. God, it’s stupid.”

That’s a funny, quotable line, and one that I’m sure he didn’t really mean. It’s hard to imagine a rock icon whose recommended reading list ranged from Camille Paglia’s “Sexual Personae: Art And Decadence From Nefertiti To Emily Dickinson” to “A Clockwork Orange” by Anthony Burgess and from “Passing” by Nella Larson to Julian Jaynes’ “The Origin Of Consciousness In The Breakdown Of The Bicameral Mind” would have really found dance at Complexion’s high level stupid.

Bowie was no dancer, but his innovative, chameleon-like stage presence revealed a theatricality and an understanding of rhythm, movement, lighting, clothing and presentation. His personas, from glam to glum, revealed an awareness of a certain sort of dance language, much like David Byrne of the Talking Heads (think of the way he moved in that Big Suit, or more recently, his “American Utopia” dance-adjacent performance). If dance (classical ballet to contemporary) works in sentences and paragraphs, then Bowie worked in specific words. In this regard, think Michael Jackson and that single, sequined raised glove.

All of this highlights the successful blending of Bowie and ballet achieved by Complexions’ co-founder and choreographer Dwight Rhoden in the piece “Stardust.” In a recent interview with the “Los Angeles Times” about “Stardust,” Rhoden says, “…there’s a little Bowie in all of us… There’s so much imagery in the lyrics, there’s so many personas and characters and colors to his personality that it just lends itself to a performance of some kind.”

Complexions is masterful at this type of pop culture and contemporary dance mash-ups that have included the music of Marvin Gaye, Lenny Kravitz and Metallica. Beyond the novelty of these collaborations, it’s the versatility, athleticism and adeptness of the company that elevates the approach from performance to art while incorporating a wide range of elements from hip-hop to modern and classical ballet.

“Stardust” consists of nine Bowie songs, each with its own choreography and each lip synced by one or more of the dancers. The sequence begins with “Lazarus,” a song from Bowie’s last studio album (“Blackstar”) and his last single released before his death. This is followed by a “best of” sequence of songs spanning Bowie’s career, including “Changes,” “Modern Love” and “Young Americans.”

Each of the dancers had their own Bowie identity that drew from his iconic array of hairstyles, face paints and costumes. It was a nice reminder of how innovative the gender- and genre-bending Bowie was, especially in his glam-rock era. With no sets and minimal staging (and spot-on lighting by Michael Korsch), the emphasis was clearly on the choreography and execution by the dancers.

The program lists the dancers only as “The Company,” so instead of individual names, it’s best to refer to songs. Collectively, The Company is an exceptionally – and exceptionally equally talented – group of dancers that delivered an impressive range of strength, intensity, athleticism, expressiveness and technical prowess.

Of the nine choreographies, one of the standouts was certainly “Space Oddity,” during which the lead dancer confidently strode across the stage on pointe, then held a very Bowie-esque position for an extended, intense moment. Another standout was “Heroes,” danced to Peter Gabriel’s slow, extended cover of the song from his “Scratch My Back” album. Fans of Netflix’s “Stranger Things” might recognize this version of the song, which benefits from the slow treatment, reminiscent of Michael Andrews’ “Donnie Darko” soundtrack cover of Tears for Fears’ “Mad World.” The Company’s ensemble work on “Heroes” was exceptionally fluid and evocative.

The weakest of the series was “1984.” The choreography was not as interpretive, robust or visually interesting as the others. The dancer, clad in a leotard that was more Mary Lou Retton than Thin White Duke, wasn’t given movements as challenging or wowie “Zowie” as the others.

Complexions Contemporary Ballet

“Stardust” may have attracted the most attention, but it comprised only the second half of the Complexion’s program. The evening began with “Hissy Fits” after a rousing, pre-show “Happy Birthday” to Michael Uthoff, Dance St. Louis’ Artistic Director. “Hissy Fits” applies a frenetic, slinky, edgy choreography to some traditional melodies of J.S. Bach (heavy on the Glenn Gould interpretations).

Perhaps because “Hissy Fits” was more finely integrated from one Bach piece to the next, rather than discrete Bowie songs, it felt stronger and more “of a piece.” It was tempting to take it more seriously. Not better, per se, but certainly different. It was a strong piece and good choice to introduce the Complexions company.

As “Hissy Fits” opened with a fogged stage and the dancers beautifully illuminated (Michael Korsch’s lighting design for the entire show as stellar). Clad in nude-colored shorts and leotards, the dancers were statuesque in contrast to the lively, sinuous, complicated choreography that lived up to its name. “Hissy Fits” was more lyrical than “Stardust” and it is tempting to describe it as more balletic and classical, but not at the expense of its contemporary street dance elements. It’s a complicated piece about complicated feelings of frustration, bordering on hysteria.

The performance ended with a long-lasting, well-deserved standing ovation. As Bowie once observed, “Gentleness clears the soul, love cleans the mind and makes it free.” Gentleness, love and freedom shone through the dancers and the passionate choreography linked the two halves of the soulful program.

Symphony and Chorus Deliver Emotional, Cathartic Performance of Poulenc and Others

Symphony and Chorus Deliver Emotional, Cathartic Performance of Poulenc and Others

By CB Adams

It goes against form to start a symphony review (or any review for that matter) by pointing out the limits of words to describe a performance. Even the inestimable writer Virginia Woolf, when attempting to describe paintings in a 1920s essay, wrote, “But words, words! How inadequate you are! How weary one gets of you.” If words can fail the masterful Woolf, there’s not much hope for the rest of us – though she more than adequately spent the rest of the essay brilliantly describing the art, anyway.

Still, words are our medium. Thus, perhaps the best that can be said for the Friday, Oct. 21 performance of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, directed by Stéphane Denève, is: You had to be there. The same could no doubt be said for the Oct. 22 performance, too.

If you were there, you know how the orchestra, along with the SLSO Chorus, performed a powerfully emotional quadtych of complementary compositions (two by Francis Poulenc, and one each by Florent Schmitt and Reena Esmail). Denève has an avowed passion for Poulenc, a sentiment he reinforced in his introduction to the evening’s performance. “I looooove Poulenc!” he proclaimed from the podium.

Poulenc comprised the second half of the evening’s bill, and Denève avoided giving the Schmitt and Esmail compositions short shrift by describing the interconnected themes of love, faith, dedication and sacrifice. The well-considered choices to explore these themes added up to an entirely fulfilling and engaging experience while locally premiering Esmail’s “Testament” (From “Vishwas”) and the 12-movement “Stabat Mater” by Poulenc.

Jeanine De Bique

The strength of this concert was, at a macro level, the focus on love, faith, dedication and sacrifice. That focus was often filtered through a religious perspective. “Testament,” the final movement of a three-part composition for classical Indian dancer and orchestra, illuminates the fervent belief and hunger strike of a 15th-century poet.

Schmitt’s “The Tragedy of Salome,” is a symphonic suite that presents the sacrifice of virginal innocence, exemplified by its femme fatale protagonist, Salome of Biblical fame. The piece climaxes with a Stravinskian crash in the “Dance of Fear” movement.

Poulenc’s “Stabat Mater” uses the setting of a 13th-century hymn in Latin to the Blessed Virgin Mary’s reaction to the crucifixion of Jesus. The final scene from his opera “Dialogues of the Carmelites” presents a cast of nuns conversing about “anguish, fear, and the human condition.” It ends with their systematic beheadings, complete with guillotine sound effect.

Heavy stuff – indeed. But words fall short of the ultimately cathartic and uplifting nature of the SLSO’s performance. It was akin to attending a Greek tragedy. As Friedrich Nietzsche has observed: experiencing tragedy through art can lead to a meaningful affirmation of our own existence.

The success of this slate of compositions relies on the pieces themselves, the interplay of styles, themes and influences, and the performance by the SLSO and chorus. The sequence of pieces began with a religious person’s hunger strike, continued with the decapitation of John the Baptist, focused on the intense loss of Jesus’ crucifixion and concluded with the execution of 16 nuns. Although this description might sound unappealingly grisly, it was anything but. In sum, it was a satisfying, cerebral experience.

The orchestra, under Denève’s direction, was clean, confident and balanced – as usual. The “exotic” elements in the Esmail and Schmitt compositions were not exaggerated. Neither were the 16 uses of the guillotine sound effect during the “Dialogues of the Carmelites.” The effect was quite similar to the one used during The Muny’s production of “Sweeney Todd” this past summer.  

The addition of the chorus, guest directed by Scott Allen Jarrett, for the Poulenc pieces was a welcome addition and filled the stage with an aural presence that only a large choir can bring.

Reena Esmail

The highlight of the performance was certainly the SLSO debut of soprano Jeanine De Bique. Clad in blood red gown among the more soberly black dress of the rest of the musicians, De Bique delivered a beautiful and commanding performance, especially during the “Stabat Mater.”

The choice of works was innovative and balanced, and it certainly fits within this season’s overarching goal of journeying the world through music – compositions and musicians.

Through the fervency expressed in the works individually stood on their own, it was the cohesive ways the fit together to create a whole experience that proved most successful.


SLSO Delivers Bold, Emotional Renderings of Rachmaninoff and Corigliano Works

SLSO Delivers Bold, Emotional Renderings of Rachmaninoff and Corigliano Works

By CB Adams
Suspension of disbelief is a term usually associated with works of fiction, film or theater. It’s a term that got its start way back in 1817 when Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote of the “…suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith.”

It’s high time we apply this term to music. This was certainly applicable to the Saint Louis Symphony’s diptych program on Oct. 15-16 of Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 and John Corigliano’s Symphony No. 1. When a conductor and orchestra can perform in a way that disappears themselves, that’s suspending the reality that people are only just rubbing strings and blowing into mouthpieces.

The program, guest conducted by Hannu Lintu, was worthy of Coleridge’s “poetic faith” with the shared maelstrom of themes that rose and fell in tandem – a perfect storm. The suspension of disbelief came after I forgot that there were musicians on stage and entered into my own reveries elicited by the drama of music itself. In service to this review, I had to keep reminding myself to stop my mind’s reverie and pay attention to who was doing what on stage.

Some of this is attributable to conductor Lintu, a regular guest artist with the SLSO since 2013. I was reminded of Lintu as I watched a sneak peek of the new film “Tár.” In it, a world-class conductor played by Cate Blanchett says, “If you want to dance the mask, you must service the composer. You’ve got to sublimate yourself…You must, in fact, stand in front of the public and God and obliterate yourself.”
That might be a bit hyperbolic, but Lintu certainly serviced the strengths of a program that put Rachmaninoff and Corigliano – the old and the new – into lockstep.

Lintu was sometimes metronomic, sometimes feet-together obedient and sometimes commanding, but always he was the conduit for music to swell unimpeded over him and into the audience.

Also in service to the music was Gerstein, the featured pianist on Rachmaninoff’s No. 2. Gerstein delivered a taut, polished, restrained performance that avoided any exaggeration that the composition can encourage. Just think back to 1975 and Eric Carmen’s hit “All By Myself,” which liberally borrowed from No. 2’s Adagio sostenuto. Or the soundtracks to “Brief Encounter” and “Fifty Shades of Grey.”
Gerstein’s performance was noteworthy for his ability to balance lyrical nuance and athletic discipline to a well-known and -loved composition.

A great performance is always a team effort, and the orchestra rippled through Rachmaninoff’s alternations of sweet melancholy and darkness. On par with Gerstein’s solos were performed by Matthew Roitstein (principal flute), Scott Andrews (principal clarinet) and Thomas Jöstlein (associate principal horn).

Creating a program that positions a beloved classic with a newer composition is to risk a “bait and switch” response. But when it works, it can work charms as did placing Rachmaninoff and Corigliano, the latter of which is a celebrated orchestral composer whose works have been performed by the best international ensembles. This was my introduction to Corigliano and I’m all the better for it. The genesis
of Symphony No. 1 was Corigliano’s deeply personal response to the HIV/AIDS pandemic, but the music enabled me to surf the dramatic crests and delicate troughs of its waves.

Perhaps because of the SLSO’s fine performance that relied on the talents of approximately 110 onstage musicians , I can imagine only listening to No. 1 live. It’s hard to think of a recording and stereo system capable of presenting this composition in all its highly charged power and range, evident even in the title of the opening movement, “Apologue: Of Rage and Remembrance” and in Corigliano’s description of the second movement’s ending as a “brutal scream” and the Epilogue’s ending with a cello duet performing a
slow diminuendo that shimmers with a single, fading note.

That cello duet, performed with grace and emotion by Danny Lee (principal cello) and Melissa Brooks (assistant principal cello), was a highlight of the entire performance, made stronger by ending the program of poetic faith and promise.

Hannu Lintu, guest conductor

‘Hadestown’ Tour at the Fox Is A Marvel From A Different Universe

‘Hadestown’ Tour at the Fox Is A Marvel From A Different Universe

By C.B. Adams
“It’s an old tale from way back when.”

So states Hermes, the narrator of “Hadestown” at the beginning of this award-winning musical. Hermes is played by native St. Louisan Nathan Lee Graham (an audience fave) who delivers a highly entertaining pastiche that’s Part Zazu, part Ben Vereen, part Joel Grey and part master of ceremony.

“Hadestown,” now playing at the Fox Theater, is indeed an old tale. It’s a dystopian folk opera reboot of a Greek myth, circa 800-900 BCE, by Anais Mitchell (music, book and lyrics), and it’s still potently relevant today, prescient even.

If the idea of attending a modernized Greek tragedy, replete with gods, Fates and Chorus doesn’t entice you, maybe the fact it won eight Tony Awards in 2019, the most awarded show of that season, including Best Musical, will. There’s strength and staying power to the old tales, and this touring company’s production of the travails of Orpheus and Eurydice provides a superlative experience, proving it’s a different kind of marvel universe.

And, no, you don’t need to bone up on your Greek mythology before attending. Hermes, in word and song, guides you through the story.

Hadestown Tour Houston 10-07-22 Photo Credit: T Charles Erickson © T Charles Erickson Photography tcharleserickson.photoshelter.com

This appraisal of the opening night’s performance at the tightly packed Fox on opening night joins the swelling ranks of this show’s ongoing rave reviews – both the original Broadway and this touring production. It would be easy to state that “Hadestown” checks all the boxes for an excellent show and leave it at that. But if you’re on the bubble about attending, perhaps some additional convincing is in order.

For starters, the score with 31 songs and a reprise is mesmerizing. The songs, whose source was an award-winning 2010 concept album by Mitchell, are tightly paced and intricately braided into the narrative. They have a timelessness about them, blending blues, gospel, ragtime, jazz, folk, and even indie-pop influences. The songs have a definite old-timey vibe with contemporary touches, such as when Persephone uses the phrase “pay per view.” Everyone’s taste differs, but my top-three favorite songs were “Road to Hell,” “Wait for Me,” and “Way Down Hadestown.”

The sound mixing was well-balanced, and vocals were clear and understandable. This is noteworthy because, based on some other recent shows (not necessarily at the Fox), it’s amazing how important good sound is, especially when you’re straining to understand the vocals. Hannah Whitley as Eurydice was a bit too quiet during “Livin’ It Up On Top,” but rallied for the rest of the show with strong vocals and emotion.

Hadestown Tour Houston 10-07-22 Photo Credit: T Charles Erickson © T Charles Erickson Photography tcharleserickson.photoshelter.com

The set, designed by Rachel Hauck, was perfectly scaled for the Fox’s stage. The set cleverly serves as the entrance to the underworld (Hadestown) and the underworld itself. In the center of the two-story set is a lighted, doorway that opens its maw to swallow or belch forth the actors. The set’s umber- and sepia-tinged palette resonates with the show’s folky, jazz- and creole-influenced music with a blend of French Quarter, 1930s train station and Paris brasserie.

Great theater is all in the details, and one of the best small touches in “Hadestown” was the how various characters interacted with the steampunkish, double-headed microphone. Another terrific touch was flanking the set with members of the seven-piece band on either side (though the percussionist/drummer was offstage). Special note must be made of the performance of Emily Frederickson, who played trombone and glockenspiel (More glockenspiel!) and even danced in a number.

The set was further enhanced with Tony-winning lighting design from Bradley King that could be as subtle as it was garish, as when the lights blasted into the audience. Costume design by Michael Krass complemented and mirrored the tarnished atmosphere of Hadestown. The one exception was the silver-spangled vest of Hermes, which he proudly flashed at the opening of the show.

Unlike the devil in other traditions, Hades in both myth and this musical is not a one-dimensional antagonist. Hades has a backstory and earns a begrudging level of respect in his role as leader of the underworld. As voiced and sung by baritone Matthew Patrick Quinn, the stentorian Hades sounded as deep and dark as a coal mine and as ominous as an earthquake.

As played by Chibueze Ihuoma, Orpheus begins as a naïve, somewhat clueless musical prodigy. As his fate becomes intertwined with Eurydice’s, Ihuoma adeptly portrayed Orpheus’ transformation into a mythically tragic figure. Ihuoma has been with the touring company since 2021 and began as a member of the ensemble as a Worker before assuming the Orpheus role in June.

Hadestown Tour Houston 10-07-22 Photo Credit: T Charles Erickson © T Charles Erickson Photography tcharleserickson.photoshelter.com

This imagining of the Greek tale elevates the female characters. Eurydice here is independent, resilient and self-aware. As Eurydice, Hannah Whitley beautifully voices these characteristics and, like Ihuoma, effectively portrays her character’s inevitable, unstoppable fate.

The upstairs-downstairs character Persephone is onstage for most of the show, and understudy Shea Renne made the most of that opportunity. Whether she’s stomping around during her signature song, “Livin’ It Up On Top,” or idly sitting on the balcony with her husband, Hades, Renne brought vigor and misery in equal measures to her portrayal.

Also strong is the show’s ensemble of actors, dancers and singers in the Fates and Chorus. This ensemble is as vibrant and compelling as the rest of the cast. The Fates in particular were fun to watch as the interacted individually and as a unit with the other characters throughout the performance.  

One of the reasons why some stories endure while others don’t is their adaptability. An ancient Greek would certainly recognize the essence of the Orpheus-Eurydice tale retold in “Hadestown.” Modern audiences can certainly appreciate the Greek tragedy for its ability to affirm life even in the face of suffering. And, for those who miss this opportunity to see “Hadestown,” it would be…well, hell.

Performances of “Hadestown” at the Fabulous Fox run Oct. 11-23. Show times are Tuesday through Saturday evenings at 7:30 p.m., Saturday afternoons at 2 p.m. and Sunday afternoons at 1 p.m. Tickets on sale now at MetroTix.com or by calling 314-534-1111. For more information, visit www.fabulousfox.com

Hadestown Tour Houston 10-07-22 Photo Credit: T Charles Erickson © T Charles Erickson Photography tcharleserickson.photoshelter.com

Symphony Presents Pleasing Western-Eastern Fusion Featuring Mahler’s ‘Das Lied von der Erde’

Symphony Presents Pleasing Western-Eastern Fusion Featuring Mahler’s ‘Das Lied von der Erde’

By CB Adams

Upon first reviewing the selections for the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra’s second performance of the 2022-23 season, it might have seemed like a concert designed by Debbie Downer.

Two of the pieces, Tōru Takemitsu’s “Night Signal” and Qigang Chen’s “L’Éloignement” (The Distancing), are neither well-known nor necessarily upbeat sounding based on their titles. And the better known Mahler work, “Das Lied von der Erde” (“The Song of the Earth”), is an hour-long cycle of six song movements that explore themes and variations on the shuffling off of this mortal coil, i.e., life and death.

But not all first thoughts are best thoughts.

Stéphane Denève, Music Director, and Erik Finley, development partner and the SLSO’s Vice President and General Manager, chose a more sophisticated and ultimately uplifting curation of pieces chosen to be experienced in person in a concert hall. This concert was designed to be both self-contained and part of the overall arc of the entire season – to experience through music the interconnectedness of the world.

To use a twenty-five-cent word: it was polyphony. To quote the Sherman Brothers’ Disneyland boat ride ditty, “It’s a small world after all.” Either way, Denève and SLSO delivered an exquisite performance from first note to last.

The performance began with the brass section standing in a line behind the strings. This arrangement provided a potent visual clue that Takemitsu’s “Night Signal” was about to emit something out of the ordinary. According to The Guardian, “Takemitsu’s understated and crystalline compositions combine elements of his own Japanese traditions with the western modernism he loved so much.” That modernism included American jazz, elements of which are woven into “Night Signal” like “tsuzure-nishiki,” the Japanese term for polychrome tapestry.

“Night Signal” was unusual in another way. At the three-minute mark, a time when listeners are just getting settled into a piece, it was over. It was brief only in duration. It made a complete, minimalist statement unto itself while serving as a fanfare for the pieces that followed. Roger Kaza, principal horn, and the entire horn section rendered the score with a nimbleness and restraint.

The orchestra then settled into place for Qigang Chen’s “L’Éloignement.”  Chen is a Chinese-born French composer whose credits include symphonies, chamber pieces, film scores and songs, including “You and Me,” the theme song for the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics (he also served as music director). Moving from “Night Signal” to the string-only “L’Éloignement” was a logically smooth transition into the latter’s bustling, cinematic phrases woven with a touching Chinese folk love song.

“Night Signal” and “L’Éloignement” were clearly selected and sequenced because they share a delicate aesthetic melding for western and eastern influences. These influences were pleasing and expanding in the effects. The pieces were expert choices to demonstrate polyphony at its most subtle and worldliness. And Danny Lee, principal cellist, and Beth Guterman, principal violist, proved in their performances why they deserved to sit at the head of their sections. 

Many who attended the Sept. 22 or 23 performances probably came for “Das Lied von der Erde,” described by Leonard Bernstein as Mahler’s “greatest symphony.” Such a listy designation may be debatable, but “The Song of the Earth” is almost universally considered Mahler’s most autobiographical work.

It’s a symphonic cycle of six songs for alto and tenor voices and orchestra. Kelley O’Connor, mezzo-soprano, and Clay Hilley (making his SLSO debut), tenor, were the soloists for these performances.

So, what’s this piece got to do with the intermingling of western and eastern musical influences? The answer is not really sonically. It’s somewhat part academic and definitely part Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon. The source material is a bit removed as it was inspired by an anthology of Chinese poems translated into German. This text was further translated into English and projected during the performance. The result was often more Germanic sturm und drang (and drinking), especially during Hilley’s songs.

“’Das Lied von der Erde’” is about loss, grief, memory, disintegration, and, ultimately, transfiguration,” according to Robert Greenberg, a noted historian, composer, pianist and author. And it’s those themes that make a compelling case for including it with the preceding compositions rather than Mahler’s masterful use of eastern pentatonic scales.

Mahler’s “song symphony” is essentially a two-part symphony with six songs that explore the phases of life (songs 1-5) and the transition to death (song 6). O’Connor and Hilley were splendid and powerful in distinctively different ways. They were definitely a study in contrast, with Hilley storming through his songs with operatic passion while O’Connor presented her lyrics with refined, gossamer restraint. This binary approach aligned with – mirrored – the song symphony’s themes of life and death, light and dark, conflict and acceptance.

And it’s that last word – acceptance – that ended the performance so satisfyingly. As O’Connor sang “Der Abschield” (“The Farewell”), her voice led toward the ending that Mahler intended: acceptance of death as well as acceptance of the pairing of these compositions into a cohesive experience.

Symphony-Muny Collaboration Sings Sondheim’s Praises Sunday

Symphony-Muny Collaboration Sings Sondheim’s Praises Sunday

By CB Adams

Every so often, The Muny and the St. Louis Symphony come together like Peaches & Herb: “Reunited, and it feels so good…”

These two cultural cousins know how to celebrate. That was definitely the vibe at Power Hall on October 2 when these two local cultural titans combined talents for “A Little Sondheim Music,” a concert to celebrate composer-lyricist Stephen Sondheim, a titan of different sort. The last time the Symphony and Muny combined forces was to celebrate the The Muny’s 100th birthday.

With Mike Isaacson, the Muny’s Artistic Director and Executive Producer, at the helm as host and master of ceremony, the lively event perked along through a well-curated roster of songs from Sondheim’s career. This was no jukebox jaunt through Sondheim’s songbook. It was a journey into Sondheim’s impressive range of songs and characters, some of which aren’t among his greatest hits.

So, along with the familiar titles from “Follies,” “A Little Night Music,” “Company” and “Sweeney Todd,” the audience was also to treated to selections from the lesser-known “Saturday Night,” “Evening Primrose” and “Anyone Can Whistle.” Another entire concert or two could be created from Sondheim’s deep cuts from other shows. To borrow a line from “Send In the Clowns, “…well, maybe next year.” (hint, hint).

In his opening, Isaacson quoted the three guiding principles that Sondheim hewed to during his career: content dictates form, less is more and God is in the details. To which Sondheim also added, “All in service of Clarity, without which nothing else matters.”

Bryonha Marie in rehearsal. Julie Merkel photo.

Clarity ruled the afternoon performance and elevated the achievements of Sondheim rather than mourn his passing last November at age 91. Lending their vocal talents to the celebration were some of Broadway’s brightest babies:  Ben Davis, Bryonha Marie, Matthew Scott, Emily Skinner and Elizabeth Stanley. Their talents were on full display, whether performing individually, in duets or as an ensemble. And it would be unfair if not impossible to cite any one performance as a standout because they were all standouts.

Ask 10 audience members what their favorite was, and you’d probably get 10 different answers. My own personal favorite was Skinner’s interpretation of “Send In the Clowns.” Her use of pauses and emphasis provided new insight into the lyrics’ meanings and to the rueful ruminations of the character Desirée in “A Little Night Music.”  I’m just a sucker for that song.

Clarity was certainly one of the concert’s throughlines. Songs such as ”If You Can Find Me, I’m Here,” sung by Scott, and “Broadway Baby,” sung by Marie, exemplify Sondheim’s ability to pack an entire show’s worth of characterization into a single lyric. And Scott interpreted his song by channeling an inner Dustin Hoffman, ala “The Graduate,” and Marie delivered sass, sashay and plenty of boop-oop-a-doop to hers.  

Each Sondheim song is its own mini-musical. All of the performers tapped into this with brio and moxie, moving across the narrow strip of stag and conjuring the spirit of the actual musicals. Even if you didn’t know the show, you understood it from the song itself. That’s part Sondheim genius, part musical magic and part high-caliber performance from the artists.

Rehearsal photo of the two Bens – Davis and Whiteley. Photo by Julie Merkel.

Cases in point: Davis, fresh off this last summer’s successful Muny production of “Sweeney Todd,” reprised his take on the chilling “My Friends” by pivoting from fetishistic heavy petting of cutlery to the abrupt declaration, “At last, my arm is complete again!” Dexter should be so lucky.

And Stanley provided a disarmingly plaintive interpretation of “In Buddy’s Eyes” from “Follies” that reworked the breathless suffering usually associated with this song – written for an older character – into an ironic conscience examination of someone younger.

Also providing clarity to the concert was the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, under the direction of Maestro Ben Whiteley, who has long been a member of the Muny artistic family. Host Isaacson thanked Whiteley “…who really created this program, bringing his incredible knowledge and passion to the creation of this program.”

The orchestra launched the performance with the opening overture to “Merrily We Roll Along” and was featured post-intermission with the overture to “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum,” as well as a smooth and graceful “Night Waltz” from “A Little Night Music” in the second half. These were a potent reminder of the beauty of Sondheim’s compositions and how much a fine performance of them deepens their impact.

Also in the second half was a special appearance by St. Louis native Ken Page who sang “Anyone Can Whistle” with a sage-like preciousness that did the Old Deuteronomy cat proud.

As the concert drew to a close, Isaacson quoted Sondheim who answered an interviewer’s question about what he hoped his legacy would be. “Oh, I just would like the shows to keep getting done. Whether on Broadway, or in regional theaters, or schools or communities, I would just like the stuff to be done. Just done and done and done and done and done.”

With a concert like “A Little Sondheim Music,” The Muny and the Symphony have ensured that at least one of those done’s was accomplished – and done to perfection. It doesn’t get much clearer than that.

Featured Photo: Ben Whiteley, Michael Baxter, Nicolas Valdez, Bryonha Marie, Ben Davis, Matthew Scott, Emily Skinner.. Photo by Julie Merkel.

Matthew Scott in rehearsal. Photo by Julie Merkel.

St Louis Symphony Opens Season with Alluring, Boundary-Busting Line-Up

St Louis Symphony Opens Season with Alluring, Boundary-Busting Line-Up

By CB Adams
It’s been more than a week since the Saint Louis Symphony’s (SLSO) opening performance, the first salvo in the 2022-23 season. Across the St. Louis cultural landscape, as we have emerged from the isolating effects of the pandemic, the last several
months have seemed like a time of emergence, anticipation and expectation for theater, live music and the visual arts. The pandemic was not a pleasant experience, but for some, this hunker-down time was like a creative chrysalis or inspiring incubator.

Such seems to have been the case for Stéphane Denève, Music Director of the Symphony, and his development partner, Erik Finley, the SLSO’s Vice President and General Manager. “Stéphane’s big idea for 2022/23 was the French word ailleurs,” Finley is quoted in the
Symphony’s Playbill. “Loosely translated, the word means ‘elsewhere,’ or ‘another place.’ Stéphane and I began our conversation around the idea of ‘journeying’ – of traveling the world through music.”

The onus on reviewers is usually to provide one’s critique like a loaf of freshly baked bread – best hot from the oven (i.e., performance). But some reviews benefit from a little more time, more of a stew, perhaps (to continue the culinary metaphor). Such is the case
with the SLSO’s prix fixe season opener that included Antonín Dvořák (best known), Jacques Ibert (less well-known) and Nathalie Joachim (perhaps the least known, especially outside of the symphony world).

Preparing for the opening performance, I ranked the pieces in that order. Yet, with the passage of some time, that order has been upended – at least in terms of what has had the most staying power. And that’s thanks to that sense of ailleurs, especially Joachim’s
“Fanm d’Ayiti” (“Women of Haiti”) Suite, which was sandwiched between the Ibert and Dvořák pieces.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from Joachim, a Brooklyn-born self-identified Haitian- American who is a Grammy-nominated composer, vocalist and flutist whose works range from classical to pop and indie-rock, and whose affiliations include Oregon Symphony
(where she is the Artistic Partner) and the flute duo, Flutronix (which she co-founded). She’s also a newly appointed faculty member at Princeton University.

The full-length “Fanm d’Ayiti” (2019), which earned the Grammy nomination, consists of 11 pieces for flute, voice (in “kreyól” or creole), string quartet and some electronics. Grammy.com noted that “Fanm d’Ayiti” “…constitutes an ethnographic research
undertaking.” It is based on Joachim’s conversations with family members and others in the Haitian community, as well as additional field research.

“I found such a kinship in their stories as artists, and specifically female artists, really trying to make it in a field where women’s voices are ever-present but really under- represented,” Joachim was quoted by Grammy.com.

On paper, Joachim’s project seemed a risky choice for the SLSO because of its ethnographic, almost academic, approach. “Yes,” I thought, “but is it any good?” My skepticism was almost immediately allayed within the first minutes of the three selections: “Suite pou Dantam,” “Madan Bellegrade” and “Fanm d’Ayiti.”

What remains of this performance is a warm sense of being transported to the Haitian country, of “being there.” Joachim’s voice was smooth and sweet, as was her flute playing, and the orchestra’s performance was intermingled with recorded voices of her maternal grandmother and of an all-girls choir from her family’s hometown.

Overall, it was a visceral experience, not dryly academic. It’s no wonder, then, that the performance earned a mid-concert standing ovation. Because “Fanm d’Ayiti” is the least well-known of the evening’s music makes it deserving of the lion’s share of coverage. It was an important choice, and based on its success, it helps strengthen the relationship – the trust – that should exist between music director and those who support the SLSO. It’s as if Denève and Finley were saying, “Trust us, you’ll like this.”

SLSO at Powell Hall

They weren’t wrong with “Fanm d’Ayiti.” The success of “Fanm d’Ayiti” was elevated by the works that surrounded it, forming a
musical travelogue that transported the audience to the Czech Republic, nee Bohemia, and ports of call in the Mediterranean. The combination integrated thoughtfully well, especially as it relates to the notion of ailleurs.

The evening began with Ibert’s 1922 suite “Escales” (“Ports of Call”). “Escales” is a story in three movements that begins at sea and explores the soundscapes of three ports of call, “Rome—Palermo,” “Tunis—Nefta” and “Valencia.” Denève directed Ibert’s colorful suite with a vigorous, cinematic soundtrack sensibility. Ibert’s score made fine use of the skills of Jelena Dirks, principal oboist.

The evening concluded with Dvořák’s Symphony No. 8, Op. 88. The names of symphony’s four movements (Allegro con brio, Adagio, Allegretto grazioso and Allegro ma non troppo) offer some indication of why this was a fine way to end the evening with
an energetic, cheerful, exuberant and poetic performance. Denève and D (let’s call them the Two D’s) drew upon the SLSO’s strong woodwinds during the numerous solo passages.

In her Playbill introduction, SLSO President and CEO, Marie-Hélène Bernard, wrote, “We believe that music is a universal language and in creating an environment where music is accessible to all. This is made possible through a more welcoming concert experience and for new and returning audience; broader programming that makes the orchestra a vital part of everyone’s life…”

Every journey begins with a first step, and the opening performance of this new season was indeed a terrific first step toward that ideal of ailleurs. There is no substitute for experiencing a live orchestral performance – especially one as diverse and satisfying as
this one. It’s amazing to view the musicians assembled on Powell Hall’s stage and to consider all that practice, practice, practice that led them to this point. And for the next several months, it’s up to us to listen, listen, listen.

SLSO Conductor Stephane Deneve

Hard Bop Messengers Play Tunes to Remember in ‘Live At the Last Hotel’

Hard Bop Messengers Play Tunes to Remember in ‘Live At the Last Hotel’

By CB Adams

St. Louis’s Hard Bop Messengers new, first album, “Live At The Last Hotel,” has been on my repeat play in recent weeks – partly because I enjoy it, partly because I don’t listen to a lot of new jazz, and partly because I’ve been struggling to find a way to describe it.

As a visual and written artist myself, I often listen to jazz while I’m doing my own creating, but that’s more than a little unfair to those musical artists. It’s akin to saying I like a painting because it matches my couch. There just are times when one needs to be focused and present when experiencing a piece of music.

All of this is to say that I’ve been seeking a way of explaining why the Hard Bop Messengers, led by John Covelli, deserves more name recognition – in and out of jazz circles – both locally and beyond. To borrow an old phrase,  “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.” I’m dancing to explain why their “Live At The Last Hotel” deserves a wider audience, even as their most recent shows in and out of town have been well-attended by jazz venue standards.  

To address these challenges, I am reminded of something from William Deresiewicz’s 2020 The Death of the Artist: How Creators Are Struggling to Survive in the Age of Billionaires and Big Tech. “When people get a little extra money, one of the things that they spend it on is art…We do not need the government to pay for art, or the rich with their philanthropy. We only need each other.”

Although not endemic to St. Louis, the various arts tend to become stovepiped – if not downright inbred — within their own communities and patrons. Jazz people hang with jazz people, abstract painters with other abstract painters, stage folks with stage folks, etc. So, it’s hard to attract attention outside of one’s artistic sphere.

But “Live At The Last Hotel” is the sort of jazz album that should pull most anyone out of their usual orbit. As hinted by its title, “Live At The Last Hotel” tells a story. In fact, it’s the equivalent of a book of connected short stories. The genesis of this collection was a tune called “The Lobby,” written by Covelli, who was inspired to conjure the vibe of sets played by the Hard Bop Messengers in the real-life lobby of downtown St. Louis’s The Last Hotel.

Under the leadership of Covelli, the band is composed of Ben Shafer (alto and tenor sax, flute), Luke Sailor (piano) Chris Meschede (upright bass) and Nick Savage (drums) and Matt Krieg (vocals). The album was recorded in 2021 at Webster University Studio A and engineered and mixed by Daniel Ruder.

Based on positive response to “The Lobby,” Covelli began creating a cinematic cycle of songs set at the fictionalized hotel with titles such as “Meeting Friends,” “Standin Up Against the Wall” and “Make the Beds.” Each song tells a story, and the entire sequence provides a cohesive narrative that is sometimes slightly melancholic and sometimes upbeat and bouncy.

There’s something about the tone of this album that is captured in Billy Joel’s “Days To Remember” and the lines “…We walked on the beach beside that old hotel / They’re tearing it down now / But it’s just as well…” Perhaps that tone is the result of the album’s production during the band’s pandemic-enforced live performance shutdown.

As befits their name, the style of the Hard Bob Messengers falls within the hard bop subgenre extension of bebop, but titles like this fail to accurately capture the band’s fizzy, subtle influences from rhythm and blues, gospel music and blues. There are two distinct voices in this album. One voice is Krieg, who provides vocals for Covelli’s minimalist lyrics that provide the setting for each of the album’s 11 songs in two acts.

The other voice is from Covelli’s trombone – a voice that weaves and blends into, not away from, the songs. Don’t let the word trombone throw you off. Covelli’s is not of Music Man’s “76” variety. If anything, it is closer to Star Trek’s William Riker’s variety of jazz.

Among the stringed instruments, the cello is said to be the closest in range to the human voice. Among the wind instruments, the same could be said for the trombone, especially as blown by Covelli. Hector Berlioz got is right when he said, “… the trombone is the true head of the family of wind instruments… It possesses nobility and grandeur to the highest degree.”

But make no mistake. This is not a “trombone” album. It is an ensemble affair, and all players have the opportunity to shine in their own ways. The Messengers have a cohesive camaraderie that is surely as comfortable to play as it is to listen to.

There’s the old line about “A jazz musician is someone that puts a $5,000 horn in a $500 car and drives 50 miles for $5 gig.” That’s a funny – but sad and true – commentary about much in the arts. Perhaps the Hard Bop Messengers could enjoy a better fate than that with their album sales and attendance at their gigs. They surely deserve it.

“Live At The Lost Hotel” is available from www.pacificcoastjazz.com, Amazon and iTunes, and their Facebook page (@hardbopmessengers) lists upcoming performances.