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South Pacific goes operatic
BY JEFFREY GANTZ
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South Pacific
Music by Richard Rodgers. Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II. Book by Oscar Hammerstein II and Joshua Logan, based on James A. Michener’s Tales of the South Pacific. Directed by Patricia-Maria Weinmann. Set by Janie Howland. Costumes by Rebecca Hylton. Lighting by Christopher Ostrom. Sound by Bill Wynn. With Amanda Crider, Kimm Julian, Jason Karn, Cindy Sadler, William Thorpe, Sipra-Céline Agrawal, William Molnar, Nikolas Nackley, Asa Sutton, Annina Hsieh, Timur Bekbosunov, and the Boston Landmarks Orchestra conducted by Charles Ansbacher. Presented by Opera Boston in front of the USS Cassin Young at the Charlestown Navy Yard (closed).
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It seemed like a good idea: Opera Boston (until last year the Boston Academy of Music) following up on its 2000 free Charlestown Navy Yard presentation of Gilbert & Sullivan’s H.M.S. Pinafore before the USS Constitution with a free production of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s South Pacific before the World War II destroyer USS Cassin Young. Opera Boston as BAM had, after all, built a fair part of its reputation on doing G&S operettas, so R&H’s 1949 musical, which ran for more than 1900 performances on Broadway, didn’t seem too much of a stretch. The company even managed to get all three of its scheduled performances in, dodging the predicted thunderstorms. But the decision to cast opera singers in the major roles resulted in a South Pacific that was a little stilted and didn’t swing. The Cassin Young did provide a magnificent backdrop; Saturday evening it was bathed in streaky moonlight (the full moon broke through over the mainmast during Lieutenant Cable’s "Younger Than Springtime"), with the Constitution berthed next to it (a kind of history lesson in the development of US warships) and, in the distance, the blinking red lights of the Bunker Hill Bridge calling like Bali Ha’i. And Janie Howland’s thoughtful set placed Commander Brackett’s office (utilitarian chair and desk, Scotch stashed in the drawer, no glasses) and Émile de Becque’s plantation verandah (wicker-basket table and chairs, hanging wooden ceiling festooned with flowers, cognac on the table, cognac glasses) at opposite sides of the stage, with Bloody Mary’s grass-skirt emporium, Bali Ha’i, and everything else mediating between them. Trouble began when the Boston Landmarks Orchestra struck up, the strings flat and the brass wobbly in the humid air. There were some nice touches, like the echo of "Some Enchanted Evening" that turns up in Émile’s "This Nearly Was Mine"; there were also some clunkers, like the Lawrence Welky harp glissandi at the end of "A Cock-Eyed Optimist" and the reprise of the "Double Soliloquy." Charles Ansbacher’s measured tempi were at times edifying but more often static. Of course, the tempi have to be measured if you’re going to turn this musical into opera, but that begs the question. No Mary Martin, Amanda Crider was nonetheless chirpy and personable as Nellie Forbush, and she’s not a bad actress, though her accent moved Little Rock to the Midwest and she was an improbable flibbertigibbet when talking to her commandant. Crider can sing, too, but do you want to hear "I’m as corny as Kansas in August" in a cultured voice? Kimm Julian’s French accent was likewise dodgy, with touches of German. His Émile had a large, soft, easy presence with Nellie that grew French-little-boyish when talking with the officers (you want a kind of Ricardo Montalban authority here). His big numbers — "Some Enchanted Evening" and "This Nearly Was Mine" — are indeed operatic (Ezio Pinza was the original Émile), and he has a big, resonant voice, but it didn’t always stay big or on pitch. Jason Kern as Joe Cable was callow to a fault, in both his acting and his singing; Sipra-Céline Agrawal’s Liat was sweet but immobile (why cast an opera singer in a non-singing, almost non-talking part that has to express itself through movement?). William Molnar’s Brackett was sporadically military; Nikolas Nackley was no more successful as Harbison than he was in the title role of Opera Aperta’s Don Giovanni last summer. William Thorpe and Cindy Sadler have experience that transcends opera, and it showed in their well-acted, down-to-earth Luther Billis and Bloody Mary. The seabees were hearty and heartfelt, albeit polite, in "Bloody Mary Is the Girl I Love" and "There Is Nothing like a Dame"; the nurses were a little rote. Patricia-Maria Weinmann’s direction and blocking were perfunctory; Sara Sweet Rabidoux’s rudimentary dance steps were unacceptable in a town with so many good choreographers. And though the Cassin Young sported a few grass skirts, the only action it saw was the presence of its own crew, some of whom served on the ship during World War II, as extras (though as Opera Boston board member Paul Buddenhagen noted before curtain, "they weren’t extra then"). For the Boston National Historical Park, these evenings are always enchanted — they’re sure to draw more visitors to the Navy Yard. The Boston Landmarks Orchestra has played better, and those whom Opera Boston hopes to draw to its regular season (Candide, Nixon in China, Luisa Miller) will probably expect more for their money. But this free South Pacific pleased a lot of people, and with all its faults it still blew the glib touring production that came to the Colonial in December 2001 (top price: $75) out of the water.
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