“We grow through love, but we grow even more through tears,” are the concluding lines of Jacques Offenbach’s The Tales of Hoffmann, his final work and only proper opera, which he left unfinished upon his death in 1880. Attending any performance of it will certainly allow those lines to ring true.
Based on the popular tales of the German Romantic writer E. T. A. Hoffmann, in which the writer appears as the narrator of fantastic yarns of misfortune, the opera’s tales are the stories of three great loves he found and lost. The first, Olympia, was an automaton manufactured by an associate of Hoffmann’s. Through a special pair of glasses, she appears to be a real girl only to the hero; but, as the result of a business dispute with her creator, the evil Coppélius destroys both the robot and Hoffmann’s illusions. Next up is Antonia, a young, aspiring singer who is stricken with a terrible illness and is forbidden to sing in order to protect her health. Her predicament is brought to a fatal conclusion by the quack Doctor Miracle, who urges her to sing nevertheless, causing her death and Hoffmann’s despair. Finally, we have Giulietta, a Venetian courtesan who pretends to be enamored of Hoffmann, but who is really in the service of the devilish Dapertutto (whose name is Italian and means “Everywhere”). He has commissioned her to steal Hoffmann’s soul before abandoning him for another lover (a child attending the performance at the Palm Beach Opera was heard to say, “The very pretty lady went away with the ugly old man,” in what may have been a precocious understanding of romance in America’s premiere island resort community).
Framing Hoffmann’s three failed romances—each of which is told over the course of an act—is the tale of a fourth failed love for the Italian singer Stella, whom our sad protagonist has known in Italy and hopes to meet after a performance in Nuremberg. His plans are disrupted by the scheming city councilman Lindorf, who diverts Hoffmann’s note to Stella and takes her away, after Hoffmann drinks himself into a stupor while telling fellow inn guests of his romantic failures, even as Stella performs on stage.
Palm Beach Opera is one of America’s most successful regional companies, and it has captured the work in an excellent production that showcased welcome ambition and admirable growth. The company is no longer confined to the core standard repertoire, but took risks to stage this philosophically sophisticated work, which also demands an impressive cast. As Palm Beach moved ahead, there was some grief as David Walker, its general and artistic director, announced his resignation on the day of the first performance, after nine years with the company, to “pursue other opportunities in the performing arts.” Walker was a dynamic force, presiding over record-breaking ticket sales, highly successful fundraising, and the first live opera performances following the COVID-19 pandemic.
Walker will be sorely missed, but his legacy will live on, capped by this outstanding production with sets from the Virginia Opera and costumes from the Sarasota Opera Association. Rather than a literal representation, Erhard Rom’s imaginative production updates the action to a glamorous pan-European 1920s, a time of great spiritual doubt combined with a popular sense that anything was possible in the new world that was emerging from the traumas of the First World War. Much of the action is flanked by impressive bar shelves stocked with bottles from the tavern that features in the frame story, reminding us that the events of the opera emerge from Hoffmann’s inebriated mind.
The main parts are demanding, with Hoffmann, his loves, and the villains all on stage almost the entire time for nearly four hours of performance. The loves are so demanding, and range so widely in vocal type, that they are normally cast for four different singers. Only in very intrepid productions will one soloist take on all of them. In the soprano Kathryn Lewek, a near-last minute replacement, Palm Beach found a credible lead. Lewek’s greatest gifts are in the coloratura range—she holds the Metropolitan Opera’s record for the largest number of performances as the treacherous Queen of the Night in Mozart’s The Magic Flute (a role she sang here during the post-COVID-19 festival format)—and her Olympia was the most inspired and natural of the four female roles. Antonia requires a rather fuller dramatic soprano sound which came out reasonably well but sounded a touch underpowered. Giulietta is low enough in tessitura for mezzo-sopranos to perform the role, but Lewek had the guile and stage presence to pull it off.
The male leads have an easier time by comparison. The opera’s four villains are also different characters, but all four parts are scored for dramatic baritones of the same type. The outstanding Zachary Nelson played up their evil antics to the hilt, literally never missing a beat in conveying their evil scheming. His delivery of Dapertutto’s grand aria “Scintille, diamant,” which was added to Offenbach’s unfinished score some two decades later, was the highlight of his evening. Possessing a fine and well spun legato, he delivered each part with a commanding presence.
The superb Chinese tenor Kang Wang was our Hoffmann. The voice is warm and bright, perfectly well suited for the title’s character’s initial innocence, but also capable of rendering his depth of feeling when encountering deception, devastation, and betrayal. Like the other principals in the cast, he has a fine future before him.
Tales of Hoffmann has a sprawling supporting cast, and Palm Beach filled it admirably. The American mezzo-soprano Emily Fons was taut and impressive in the trouser role of Nicklausse, a sidekick who watches Hoffmann’s back but also turns out to be the Muse of Poetry. The role adds an ethereal quality to the opera, and this talented young singer brought it out well. Julius Ahn sang the comical “valet tenor” parts with a flair that resisted the temptation to be annoying and added relief to the dramas going on around them. Bass-baritone Ben Brady was memorable as the innkeeper Luther, emitting a solid tone that could portend his future casting in the villain roles. Cloe Sanantonio, a rising mezzo, left a strong impression as Antonia’s mother. Tenor Devin Eatmon and baritone Edward Thomas Bland rounded out the cast in comprimario parts.
Palm Beach Opera’s music director David Stern led an energetic performance that kept the action moving without rushing through the score.
