Kings, queens, demons and two surprisingly resilient corpses played leading roles as three major opera premires took place in as many cities last week. At the Opera Company of Boston, the scene was 16th century Mexico in the long-awaited US. premiere of Roger Sessions' Montezuma. At the Baltimore Opera Company, it was 14th century Portugal in the world premiere of Thomas Pasatieri's Ines de Castro. At the New York City Opera, the setting was the land of Talmudic legend in the U.S. premiere of Ashmedai by Israel's Josef Tal. All three operas were sung in English. Though the music varied in worth, all three productions boasted brilliant stagecraft and demonstrated once again the vitality of U.S. regional opera.
MONTEZUMA. Some people transform a stage. Sarah Caldwell revolutionizes it. At the premiere of Montezuma, it was difficult to recognize the tiny (26-ft.-deep) stage of Boston's old Orpheum Theater. The apron had been built out 8 ft. The lower boxes had been converted into overflow basins for extra members of the orchestra, mostly percussion. Through the upper boxes paraded soldiers and Aztec natives on their way to destiny. Behind scrims and translucent screens soldiers fought silhouetted battles that suggested endless depth.
Montezuma is about as grand as opera can get. The story is that of Cortez's conquest of Mexico and subjugation of Montezuma, the enlightened ruler of the Aztecs. In its clash of cultures and religions, and in its juxtaposition of war and idyllic love scenes, Montezuma is a powerful statement about the human condition that calls for astute judgment and courageous imagination. This Caldwell has provided, with astonishingly flexible sets (by Helen Pond and Herbert Senn) and bold lighting effects (by Gilbert Hemsley) that the Aztec sun gods might have admired. On the musical side, Boston's impresario/director/ conductor has assembled the shiniest of casts, notably Tenor Richard Lewis as Montezuma and Soprano Phyllis Bryn-Julson as Malinche, the princess turned slave.
Until last week, Montezuma had been performed only once—and poorly —over a decade ago at The Deutsche Oper in West Berlin. Among those in the audience, however, was Caldwell, and ever since she has been patiently trying to get the money together to stage the opera in Boston. Montezuma is indisputably twelve-tone music's finest hour on the operatic stage. Whether it finds its way into the standard repertory or, like Berg's Wozzeck (which it rivals), stays on the fringes, is something only the years can determine. For now it is enough that Montezuma is a work that imbues the mind with searing resonances.