Louis Gossett Jr., 1st Black man to win best supporting actor Oscar, dies at 87
ENTERTAINMENT

Opera's 'Silent Night' breathtaking tale of war, people

Janelle Gelfand
jgelfand@enquirer.com
  • A work that resonates as a reminder of war%27s human toll.
  • Repeats at 7%3A30 p.m. Saturday in Music Hall.
  • Tickets%3A 513-241-2742%2C www.cincinnatiopera.org.

The French lieutenant wearily tabulated his dead and wounded, while daydreaming about his wife back home, against an orchestral backdrop of glimmering beauty. It was just one of many poignant moments in the deeply moving new opera, "Silent Night," presented by Cincinnati Opera Thursday night in Music Hall.

German soldier Nikolaus Sprink (Thomas Blondelle) is reunited with his lover, Anna Sorensen (Erin Wall) in “Silent Night.”

With a terrific cast of singing actors, a hauntingly beautiful score and an impressive high-tech scenic design, "Silent Night" was nothing short of breathtaking.

"Silent Night" is the true story of the Christmas truce of 1914, when soldiers came out of their trenches on the Western Front to celebrate Christmas Eve together in no-man's land. They shared family photos and brandy, played football, observed Mass and buried their dead. Premiered by Minnesota Opera in 2011, the two-act opera by Kevin Puts to a libretto by Mark Campbell is based on the 2005 French movie, "Joyeux Noël."

Brilliantly staged by Eric Simonson, it made for riveting theater. And despite the large cast – mostly men representing the armies of Scotland, France and Germany – the creators managed to bring depth to the characters and make us care about them.

It is the first opera by the gifted American composer. One could only marvel at Puts' multi-layered orchestral score, which turned on a dime from battle scenes – a cacophony of dissonances, edgy intervals and machine gun sounds – to moments of serene, lyrical beauty.

The opera unfolded cinematically, both visually and aurally. It began with a prologue: Opera singers Anna Sorensen (Erin Wall) and Nikolaus Sprink (Thomas Blondelle) are performing a Mozartean opera (which Puts created with astonishing authenticity) when they are interrupted by a German general announcing that war has broken out. The scene shifts to a Scottish church, where two brothers are enlisting, then to a Paris apartment, where Lt. Audebert, warmly sung by Phillip Addis, is saying goodbye to his pregnant wife.

Then the opera plunges into war, with marching armies singing in three languages and a vividly choreographed depiction of battle.

Francis O'Connor's scenic design was stunningly effective. It featured a raised platform (no-man's land) encircled by the bunkers of each army, which rotated on a turntable. Front and rear projections of grim landscapes and, in the end, moving trains (designed by Andrzej Goulding) added to the cinematic feel as the opera progressed.

Yet, it wasn't all grim. There was a love story between Sorensen and Sprink. Blondelle sang ardently as the German singer conscripted into the army, whether performing as an opera star or angrily confronting his commanding officer. As the diva who conspires to join her man on the front, Wall conveyed her role with ravishing tone.

One of the opera's most unforgettable moments was when, surrounded by soldiers, she delivered a performance of ethereal beauty in her a cappella "Dona Nobis Pacem" (Grant Us Peace). As she finished, bombs could be heard in the distance.

The three lieutenants – Addis as the French Lt. Audebert, Gabriel Preisser as the Scottish Lt. Gordon and Craig Irvin, as the German Lt. Horstmayer – all baritones singing in three different languages, brought convincing character and vocal heft to their considerable roles. Even in their multilingual ensembles, their individual personalities shone through.

Kenneth Shaw made a formidable French general, who later would punish his soldiers – and his own son, Lt. Audebert – by sending them to Verdun. Hugh Russell was excellent as Father Palmer, who sings Scottish folk songs and holds Mass. And Thomas Glenn was fine as Jonathan, the Scottish soldier who vows revenge after his brother is killed.

There was comic relief, and often the audience laughed out loud. As the charming aide-de-camp, Ponchel, Andrew Wilkowske brought humor and vocal nuance whenever he was onstage. With an alarm clock to remind him when he used to have coffee with his mother, his character added a human touch.

The excellent chorus, prepared by Henri Venanzi, added sumptuous atmosphere in a "Sleep Chorus," a heartbreaking lullaby for the exhausted soldiers.

Campbell's text was both economical and lyrical, and Puts' vocal settings were seamless. The singers' music was a conversational arioso that sometimes soared into tunes imitating folk songs, prayers and even an art song by Schumann.

In the pit, David Charles Abell captured every detail of the score, and the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra played wonderfully. There were echoes of Britten, Stravinsky, Shostakovich and even Debussy in a sunrise scene, lush with strings. Mainly, this was a skillful soundtrack that captured the drama while bringing emotion to every moment.

After the cease-fire, the soldiers were punished for fraternizing, and sent to new fronts, doomed to die. Perhaps nothing captured the feeling of deep sadness and futility so much as the excerpts of letters read by the soldiers against a backdrop of falling snow.

By serendipity, this year is the centennial of the start of World War I. In a world that still struggles with war, "Silent Night" is a work that resonates as a reminder of war's human toll.