San Francisco Opera are celebrating 100 years since its creation, and in what might be its most intriguing piece to tie into the affair, Antony and Cleopatra is a big, new opera by John Adams and holds up as an exciting offering. Though the company has worked with John in the past, acclaimed director Peter Sellars is nowhere to be seen, having worked extensively with the composer over the decades. Here, the direction is from Elkhanah Pulitzer, with some moments of moody beauty, others cluttered and underdeveloped.    

An awkward start sets off the opera with little establishing of neither the setting or mood. This is Shakespeare’s take on the tragedy (the odd touch of Virgil, Plutarch and others pops in and out) so there are of course discrepancies with factual matters, at least from what we know. Added to the fray are shimmers of 1930s Hollywood, along with a clever twist of Rome being made up of quasi-Mussolini types, black shirts and all. 

Egypt is costumed with whites, linens and cotton, some formal and stylish pieces on display here from Constance Hoffman. My major bugbear with this production is the annoying amount of darkness on stage: David Finn has clogged up so much light, you find yourself gasping for any at all. The video design by Bill Morrison has varying degrees of success. The projection onto stonework often looks choppy, though its his hyper detailed portraits of the leads that shine through the dark and add a clamour of drama to the whole. 

Adam’s score in Antony and Cleopatra is typical with his nods to Charles Ives, the bouncy, bolstering orchestration, along with a gentle, fitting handling of the libretto. Conductor Run Sun Kim had a good time getting this score up and running, her bravado seeping through the screen for viewers at home and in person. You never could tell which set of instruments would play for the next two bars; it’s very alluring and has been the big seal for his music for decades, his other operas now classics in the field, though if this one makes it past this season remains to be seen. The standout instrument might be the cimbalom, bringing the spice of antiquity to our ears. 

The lead singers are titans for their efforts. Amina Edris is our Cleo… the passion, the fury, the resignation. It’s all here and more, with a super voice which sings to ring out back into history with the spirit of the Queen and the Incarnate Isis. Gerald Finley has dazzled with Adams before in his Doctor Atomic, his honeyed voice quite perfect for this sung take on Shakespeare. The great pleasure one finds in listening to him sing is thanks to his baritone of another plain, a rare feat out of the circus of singers around today. His meaty role joins Edris, and though they may not have had the most chemistry, the love and defeat all came through both. 

Antony and Cleopatra sees Paul Appleby as the naughty Caesar (or Octavian) who plots and schemes in Rome, the downfall of the lovers, the inevitability of the sad ending permeates each scene. Some fine supporting singers had some mic problems in the live stream, though most issues were quickly remedied. I did note the odd patter of talking I assume in the wings during changes. 

Another great voice is Elizabeth DeShong as Octavia, sister to Caesar who has some nice moments with her forced marriage to Antony, though the happiness is brief and she walks off stage heavily pregnant not to be seen again. Most of the messengers who deliver bad news have hands thrown at them, a reoccurring motif about the handling of events and the sense of control fading away. The chorus, who amaze with their power, have little to do in this work. Some blocking and crowd scenes lacked focus and attention which fell flat.

The intensity drew us in towards the well-known end. Fair to say I’d have rather been present, as opposed to watching at home, to take in more of the drama. This feels like Antony And Cleopatra pays off, even with dreary lighting and a slightly overlong runtime.
Antony And Cleopatra runs at San Francisco Opera House till Wed 5 Oct. Info: here 

words JAMES ELLIS image CORY WEAVER/SAN FRANCISCO OPERA