HGO gives 'Julius Caesar' the Hollywood treatment

Some operas are so stage-worthy they feel like they could make do as a play without music. That's not often the case with baroque opera, whose threadbare plots need the help of a canny stage director. Houston Grand Opera's "Julius Caesar" got one such director, as James Robinson has uprooted the story from its ancient Egyptian setting and transported it to a film's soundstage in 1930s Hollywood.

Black and white dominate the set and costume design, making colors, like Caesar's red military jacket, really pop. Curtains, palm trees and Egyptian-themed props move swiftly on and off the stage, against a changing backdrop of Egyptian vistas and vivid desert sunsets, to create dynamic scenes and playing spaces. One backdrop features a Warhol-esque field of Cleopatras looking like Jean Harlow and receding into infinity. Caesar even makes his first entrance atop a full-size tank. The feast for the eyes feels inexhaustible, but never calls attention to itself at the singers' expense.

The second production in the George R. Brown Convention Center after Hurricane Harvey ousted the opera from its usual performance home of the Wortham Theater Center, "Caesar" shows the HGO using this unconventional space for what it is, and to its benefit.

But this was more than a case of dropping an imaginative production into the GRB. Using the exhibit hall's unadorned flooring and steel-beamed ceiling, and having the prop lighting instruments of the Hollywood soundstage give way to the performance lighting blurred the line between stage and audience space. Exposing the artifice of the film production within the opera mirrored the artifice of creating a makeshift opera house in a convention center exhibit hall.

Opera is not just about staging, though, and cast, conductor and orchestra alike all were game to create an extraordinary musical experience to match the extraordinary setting. HGO Artistic Director Patrick Summers led an idiomatic and sensitive performance Friday night from one of two harpsichords onstage. His energetic but unhurried reading kept the opera flowing briskly forward. No tedious parade of da capo arias here.

Placing the small baroque orchestra center stage and slightly to stage left, along with some very judicious amplification, created good balance between orchestra and singers. Despite the space's dry acoustics, there was no need for anyone to over sing to be heard. Plus, Summers was able to engage with the opera's characters from time to time, and concertmaster Denise Tarrant donned a white tuxedo and playfully interacted with the title character as she played the violin obbligato to one of his arias.

When "Julius Caesar" premiered in 1724, the superstar Senesino was one of three castrati (men surgically altered in youth to retain their treble voices after puberty) in the cast. Later, boy sopranos worldwide breathed a collective sigh of relief when opera turned first to mezzo-sopranos, then to countertenors (classical male falsettists) to sing these roles.

Leading the countertenor charge for HGO was handsome, charismatic countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo, who dug fearlessly into Caesar's wide dramatic and musical range. His pointed, clear-toned voice was haunting in Caesar's Act 3 lament, then thrilling later in the act as he dispatched slithery melismas with abandon in "Quel torrente, che cade dal monte" (The Cascade Rushes Down the Mountain).

Having starred in the title role 14 years ago during an HGO production of "Caesar," David Daniels is now clearly having fun in the role of Cleopatra's dastardly brother, Ptolemy. Costumed in black military garb, like a Saddam Hussein wannabe, Daniels reveled in the smarmy debauchery of the failed Egyptian king, his voice opening thrillingly at the top of his range. HGO Studio member Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen, the third of the night's countertenors and a young artist to watch, made a striking HGO debut as Cleopatra's servant Nirenus.

Baroque opera's limitations are particularly exposed in the roles of Roman General Pompey Magnus' widow and son, Cornelia and Sextus, who often come across as dramatically one-dimensional. The singers cast here made the most of their musical opportunities and the production's illuminating elements. While HGO Studio mezzo-soprano Megan Mikailovna Samarin sounded a bit unfocussed in her first aria, she warmed up to turn in a beautifully lyrical account of Sextus' call for peace of mind toward the end of the first act.

American singers are renowned for their ability to sing absolutely anything, but mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe is exceptional, singing everything from baroque and early opera to Wagner and everything in between, including the Kate Smith songbook. Her sumptuous voice coped best with the space's dry acoustics, carrying easily and effortlessly, and she employed a wide array of vocal colors and impressive dynamic control to lend dignity and nobility to the unfortunate Cornelia.

As Cleopatra, Heidi Stober took the role that launched Beverly Sills' international career and made it her own. Her "V'adoro pupille" (Beloved Eyes) was a performance highlight, managing to be vocally ravishing, seductive and funny all at once. Looking like Ginger Rogers flanked by chorus boys in top hats and tails, Stober poured forth one shimmering, silver vocal line after another as the aria became an over-the-top Busby Berkeley number behind her. Her Act 3 lament "Piangerò la sorte mia" (I'll weep for my fate) was as dramatically gut-wrenching as it was musically exquisite.

Aside from parking issues - there seemed to be something going on at nearby Minute Maid Park - and less than plush seating - if you have stadium cushions, bring 'em - the evening was a success. HGO pulled it all off with aplomb.