For its latest musical adventure, Long Beach Opera requisitioned the basement of an old bank building downtown, vault and all. Now known as the Underground Club (part of the Federal Bar), the space operates effectively enough as a black box theater. Patrons were seated at tables Saturday night and served sliders as part of the ticket price. Drinks from the nearby bar were apparently extra.
All were assembled for a little ditty called “La Voix Humaine” (“The Human Voice”) by Francis Poulenc. Composed in 1958 and based closely on a play of the same name by Jean Cocteau, the opera (or, more precisely, tragédie lyrique) is performed while its only character (Elle is her name, though we never hear it) is on the telephone, in the painful throes of a breakup.
Soprano Suzan Hanson starred. She’s been a regular with the company for almost 15 years and a favorite with its audiences, a brave, committed and believable actress and a nimble and forceful singer. We were in good hands. The orchestra part here was played on piano by Kristof Van Grysperre, who regularly conducts with the company.
Poulenc wrote the work for Denise Duval, a close collaborator of the composer’s who died in January at age 94. Much of it is sparely scored, the soprano singing alone in speech-song, the orchestra/piano punctuating or commenting tersely. The piece does rise on occasion to full-blown melody, however, and once or twice just about to the level of aria. Motifs are repeated, going round and round as if trapped with the soprano in her emotional dead end.
She is suicidal, and attempted it a day or two before the phone call, we come to learn. He is leaving her, though she agrees it’s probably for the best. But not all is in the key of anguish. There are a lovely series of Impressionistic chords that we come back to whenever Elle reminisces on the better days with her lover.
Andreas Mitisek, LBO’s general director, was the stage director and production designer. You can’t easily update this opera and have your soprano on an iPhone; it is integral to the plot, such as it is, that Elle is on a party line (look it up, kids) and is interrupted and cut off during the course of events.
The production was set in her apartment, then, in the late ’50s or ’60s. Hanson wore a black nightgown and dressing gown. Her hair was a mess and she was drinking. There was a bottle of pills around and a man’s clothes too, which she put to her nose now and then, to remember. The telephone was red, with a dial.
Simple enough and simply, effectively delivered. With Hanson subtly negotiating the emotional ebb and flow, and without overstating the character’s desperation, we became slowly wrapped up in her situation, eavesdropping on her phone call. The rich amplitude of Hanson’s climaxes was earned, the quieter passages were clearly articulated and enunciated. Supertitles were absent and not needed. Van Grysperre supported her warmly, precisely, eloquently. Sometimes, understatement is a virtue.
“La Voix Humaine” is usually done as a double bill. Instead, Long Beach Opera offered a first half (with dinner served) of chamber music and song by Poulenc and Erik Satie, performed by baritone Robin Buck, violist Seulgee Park, cellist Christopher E. Brown and Van Grysperre. Good enough.
Contact the writer: 714-796-6811 or tmangan@ocregister
