An ancient story with music by Handel received a fresh take by the astute director Chas Rader-Shieber, resulting in a charmed operatic experience at Lincoln Performance Hall (August 4). Produced by OrpheusPDX, the nimble Portland-based opera company that is in its third season, operagoers got the very rare treat of Acis, Galatea and Polyphemus, which Handel wrote in 1708 when he was 23 years old, deploying a libretto by Nicola Giuvo. It should not be confused with the Acis and Galatea that Handel penned ten years later.
Drawn from Book XIII of Metamorphoses of Ovid (43 BCE to 17/18 CE), Acis, Galatea and Polyphemus and Handel’s latter incarnation retell the legend of the water nymph Galatea, the shepherd Acis, and the cyclops Polyphemus. Galatea and Acis love each other, but Polyphemus is smitten by Galatea. Because she does not return his affections, he kills Acis with a boulder. Acis is then turned into a river so that Galatea can be with him forever.
Most scholarly texts designate Acis, Galatea and Polyphemus as a cantata or a serenata, rather than as an opera. However, Rader-Shieber, who directed Monteverdi’s L’Orfeo in OrpheusPDX’s inaugural production, struck the right chord in a well-paced presentation of the ill-fated love triangle. Little things helped to move the story along, like Polypemus giving Galatea a bouquet of flowers, which she quickly lets drop to the ground, and the time when Acis and Galatea hid behind their couch to avoid the prying eyes of Polypemus as he spied on them through his telescope.
Canadian soprano Katherine Whyte, sporting a thin moustache, starred as the ill-fated Acis. Whyte’s vocal agility and prowess glittered like gold. Sometimes she would pop out a note that was at least an octave or two higher, jolting her florid delivery with an extra-thrill-factor. Whyte was complemented superbly by mezzo-soprano Hannah Penn (Galatea), who especially excelled in the lower register where other mezzos might fear to tread. Whyte and Penn blended delightfully in their duets, all lovey-dovey and a bit full of themselves.
In the role of Polyphemus, bass-baritone Douglas Williams, embodied the calculating and emotionally inflamed rival. His excelled magnificently in the aria in which Polyphemus laments his fate as a “dazed butterfly who will never find joy,” conquering passages with notes that span over two and a half octaves.
Photo Credit: Owen Carey
Katherine Whyte (Acis) and Douglas Williams (Polyphemus) at Orpheus PDW
George Manahan, the former Music Director of Porland Opera and New York City Opera, led an eleven-piece ensemble, which included theorbo specialist John Lenti, from the harpsichord. Since Handel did not write an overture for this work, Manahan and forces opened with the first two movements of Handel’s Concerto Grosso, op. 3. That provided a smooth segue into the action.
The sets, also designed by Rader-Shieber, neatly divided the stage into half. The left side was decorated with flowers, a couch, a huge painting reflecting their bucolic life, and a large mirror. On the right offered Polyphemus’s study with piles of books, a desk, a large black and white painting of scientists from the Age of Enlightenment, and a ladder with a telescope perched at the top. Porcelain figurines, including two white geese, lined the front of the stages. Two supernumeraries, dressed as elegant satyrs, served Galatea and Acis, and provided a bit of comic relief in an otherwise serious drama.
Wonderfully evocative costumes designed by Sydney Dufka accented the production. Candy-colored outfits, including bouffant 17th century hairdos, proclaimed the carefree nature of Acis and Galatea. Polyphemus, by contrast, cast a very serious demeanor in all-black clothing, topped by a powdery-white wig, which he tore off and cast aside in frustration at the end of the story. He also didn’t wear an eye patch or anything that indicated him as a cyclops. Instead, he was portrayed as a regular human being, albeit one with an unhealthy obsession.
A very large painting depicting a boulder was suspended above the middle ground and Acis walked into that area when Polyphemus unleashed it. The audience chuckled a bit as the boulder came down to lower the boom on Acis, but they quieted down as he and Galatea gazed at each other’s reflection in the mirror – placed by Galatea on the floor – which symbolized the waters where they would be reunited.
The final epilogue, in which all three characters gave a toast to lessons learned and proclaimed the virtues of faithfulness and constancy, wrapped up the production on an upswing, although some listeners initially laughed at it. Perhaps they were just too jaded to feel any empathy. Still, the production received a standing ovation and that response carried the day.
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James Bash enjoys writing for The Oregonian, The Columbian, Classical Voice North America, Opera, and many other publications. He has also written articles for the Oregon Arts Commission and the Grove Dictionary of American Music, 2nd edition. He received a fellowship to the 2008 NEA Journalism Institute for Classical Music and Opera, and is a member of the Music Critics Association of North America.
