NEW YORK — Heartbeat Opera brought Massenet’s irresistible but doomed material girl Manon to Brooklyn for a three-week run at the Space at Irondale. Heartbeat productions always present a provocative point of view, but an overheard comment before the lights dimmed Jan. 29 — “I’m very proud of the sex acts I choreographed for the overture” — suggested an unusually interesting evening in store. In fact, the stylized romp à trois, set to music from the Act III ballet (eliminated here) was lively but discreet, serving to emphasize up front the eroticism underpinning the opera. The story of Manon, with a few tweaks and tucks, comfortably fits into the general outlines of 21st-century musical theater.
Based on an 18th-century novel by Abbé Prèvost and condensed from Massenet’s 1884 opera, Manon! (note the exclamation point, not in the original title) is the story of a high-spirited but innocent country girl torn between true love and her desire for the high life. Sent by her family to a convent, she escapes both the nunnery and abduction by a wealthy banker, Guillot, by running away with the just-met handsome young Chevalier Des Grieux. His father blocks their marriage by having him kidnapped from their spartan Paris love nest; warned in advance, Manon allows the kidnapping because she realizes that poverty is not for her.
Living in luxury as Guillot’s mistress but missing her Chevalier, she learns that he is about to take holy vows and persuades him to abandon the priesthood and return to her. When they run out of money, she takes him to a gambling house. Betting against Guillot, he wins, but the frustrated banker accuses him of cheating and has them arrested. The Chevalier’s father bails out his son, but not Manon, who is to be deported for prostitution. On the way to the ship, she dies in the Chevalier’s arms.
For the Heartbeat presentation, co-adaptors Rory Pelsue (director) and Jacob Ashforth (Heartbeat’s artistic director) trimmed Massenet’s five-act opéra comique into a single 90-minute act, eliminating several characters and the atmospheric crowd scenes so beloved of French opera composers and audiences.
This condensed and rearranged version has the narrative drive of a modern Broadway musical, reflective of the energy and intricate timing of Massenet’s original. The English translation served the original with grace, with snappy dialogue (spoken and sung) and expressive arias that landed like modern ballads.
Massenet’s score marries two different musical languages: a delicate, pseudo-Baroque style, using 18th-century dance forms and Rococo flourishes to represent the conventions of 18th-century society, and 19th-century heart-on-sleeve lyricism, expressing more turbulent emotions.
In the hands of the brilliant music director-arranger Dan Schlosberg, eight musicians — playing violin, cello, bass, horn, oboe/English horn, bassoon, harp, and keyboard — provided enough volume to support ensembles as well as the signature sonorities of the most important scenes. Schlosberg’s arrangements never fail to astonish with their unexpected rightness.
Unusually for Heartbeat, the production was set in the original 18th-century time period, indicated mostly by David Mitsch’s costumes. Men wore breeches and formal knee-length coats, their clothing becoming fancier as the action moves deeper into the demimonde. The two courtesans wore frilly 19th-century undergarments, donning (but soon doffing) petticoats. Manon at first wore a simple blue dress over a shift, but as her station in life evolved her clothing grew both more luxurious and revealing. One exception: In the pivotal and passionate St. Sulpice scene, both of the lovers were fully covered, Des Grieux in long black cassock, and Manon in a lavish robe a la française. But Manon ends her days in a ragged shift, huddled under a blanket by the edge of the road.
Alexander Woodward’s set was a long, low platform, surrounded on three sides by the audience, with the orchestra along one long side. Eight crystal chandeliers rose and lowered over the platform, glowing in mood-setting colors. The stage was minimally furnished with simple pine trunks and that petite table, with a long rug and candles for the St. Sulpice scene. Cast members efficiently rearranged the stage during instrumental transitions.
Choreographer Sara Gettelfinger gave the production a dynamic energy, emphasizing both the work’s erotic undercurrent and Manon’s eagerness to live her best life against all odds. Freeze-frames in the ensemble dances worked with Yichan Zhou’s pinpoint lighting to direct focus. The players rarely stood still, racing across the stage, climbing the furniture, interjecting from the balcony, and dancing minuets, waltzes, and even hip hop. At times, the constant movement felt excessively frenetic, but the visual tempo relaxed to give important arias and duets time to land.
A departure for Heartbeat was the casting of artists experienced primarily in musical theater, whose acting and dancing were as strong as their singing. While all the singers wore body mikes, amplification was unobtrusive — these singers would have managed Broadway’s acoustic era with ease. Emma Grimsley, who has played Cunegonde (Candide) and Christine (Phantom of the Opera), was an innocent and winsome Manon, with clear sound and the vocal chops to handle one of French opera’s most challenging roles. She spun fearless high notes and coloratura while in nearly constant motion. Her Chevalier des Grieux, Matt Dengler, was an appealing and mellifluous mangenue, despite a bit of struggle in the demanding St. Sulpice aria, “Go away, dreams of love” (“Ah, fuyez”). The chemistry between the young lovers was white-hot.
Glenn Seven Allen, accomplished in both musical theater and contemporary opera, played Guillot, the rich old banker with a taste for young women, as an arrogant aging finance bro. As Manon’s opportunistic cousin Lescaut, Jamari Darling stole the show with frisky and comic physicality, as well as his confident baritone, which occasionally ventured into falsetto. Justin Lee Miller’s smooth and sturdy bass gave the older Count des Grieux sympathatic dignity.
Kathryn McCreary (Pousette) and Natalie Walker (Javotte) made a vivacious and entertaining pair of singing and dancing courtesans, whose main function seemed to be taunting Guillot’s frustrated sugar daddy ambitions while laughing maniacally. Their edgy hilarity expressed the precarity of women caught in the uncertain life outside of respectable society.
Heartbeat has another winner in their latest operatic adaptation. With their small-scale stagings in less conventional venues, they continue to offer fresh and enthusiastic perspective on both standard and less popular repertoire. In a time of massive arts cuts, Heartbeat provides vigorous proof that opera is nowhere near dead.
Manon! runs through Feb. 15. For tickets and information, go here.
