Manon at San Francisco Opera

The 1731 novel Manon Lescaut by Abbé Prévost depicting the rise and fall of a pleasure-seeking young woman in Paris has spawned adaptations galore over the centuries, from French films to a full-length ballet by Kenneth MacMillan and two major operas, one by Puccini and an earlier 1884 version by Jules Massenet. The San Francisco Opera is currently presenting the Massenet version in a revival of Vincent Boussard's stylish, minimalist production from 2017 with soprano Amina Edris as the title character and Music Director Eun Sun Kim leading the orchestra in an exquisite, colorful rendition of the musical score. (All production photos by Cory Weaver.)

The story begins with the teenage Manon being sent off by her family to be shut away in a convent. She is met at an inn by her cousin Lescaut, a neglectful young guardian who is more interested in drinking and gambling than looking after her. Meanwhile, the rich old Epstein Class of the time, depicted by Stephen Gaertner as De Breigny and Steven Cole as Guillot de Morfrontaine, take notice of the beautiful teenager and offer her enticements to join them and their entertaining harem trio consisting of Sofia Gotch as Poussette, Laura Krumm as Javotte, and Taylor Raven as Rosette.

Coming to the rescue is a young student, the Chevalier des Grieux, who is outraged that Manon's family is cruelly shutting her away, and the pair impulsively escape to Paris together where they cohabitate in a barely furnished garret while apparently making love day and night.

It is here in Act Two that Pene Pati sings a famous aria, En fermant les yeux (Le rêve), where he relates his daydream of living in a cottage in a forest with his beloved. Pati's rendition was so achingly beautiful, singing softly over the simple, wave-like accompaniment of the orchestra, that I burst into tears, especially knowing how the rest of the tale plays out. He is kidnapped soon after by a group hired by his father, the Comte des Grieux, sung powerfully by bass-baritone James Creswell, and Manon goes off with De Bretigny to be a rich man's courtesan.

Act Three begins with Lescaut, sung by the handsome Brazilian baritone Vitor Bispo, leading fellow bon vivants at Paris's boulevard Le Cours-la-Reine, where Manon makes a spectacular entrance involving a high wall and balloons. It was at this point that Amina Edris seemed to falter vocally and dramatically. The role requires a high, sparkling soprano voice (think Beverly Sills or Ruth Ann Swenson) and a surfeit of charm. Edris is beautiful and an accomplished singer, who was totally believable a few years ago as Cleopatra in John Adams's Antony and Cleopatra opera, but she didn't convince as Manon at all for me, even though she's sung the role in France to acclaim a few times.

The performer who stole every scene in which he appeared was the 77-year-old character tenor Steven Cole as the rich, lecherous Guillot de Morfontaine, who's had his eye on Manon since the beginning of the opera. He was by turns funny, creepy, charming, and authoritative, and it's amazing that he's still performing at such a high level.

Meanwhile, des Grieux has taken vows to become an abbé, musing that his only misgiving is his still smoldering love for Manon. Usually, the character of des Grieux comes across as a sap while Manon, for all her flaws, is the vital center. However, in this production, Pati is so sympathetic as an actor and singer that you end up caring more about him than his gold digging ex-lover.

During the St. Sulpice scene, with its Flying Jesus overhead, Manon seduces des Grieux and comes across as a greedy person who wants it all, both riches and true love.

When Manon urges a reluctant des Grieux to gamble so they can live in the style to which she has become accustomed, the scene just feels nasty, and her final death scene as a prisoner marching to Le Havre had me muttering, "Well, she deserves it," which is not the intended emotional response. The production is definitely worth seeing, though. Besides the glorious orchestra, there are dozens of small roles capably filled, and Broussard's direction of the chorus was brilliant. Instead of clunkily moving on and off the stage, they were used abstractly and with wit. Above all, the Pene Pati performance is instantly legendary.

Vote Fascists Out to End the Nightmare

During last weekend's very warm Saturday afternoon, I made my way to the top of Dolores Park to see about joining yet another No Kings march to Civic Center.

There were a number of delightful people who showed up for the same purpose, but compared to the tens of thousands at previous marches, the crowd was small.

Dolores Beach, however, was quite crowded...

...with sun worshipers showing off their beautiful young bodies.

Having too many skin cancers over the years after growing up on Southern California beaches, I decided to get out of the sun.

Besides, the fun protest looked like the concurrent human signage at Ocean Beach imploring us to VOTE! TO END THE NIGHTMARE.

A Superstar Piano Trio at Davies

In my experience, chamber music in San Francisco's Davies Hall tends to get overwhelmed by the largeness of the theater, but last Thursday there was a major exception. The Thibaudet/Batiashvili/Capuçon Trio consists of three global superstar soloists, with Jean-Yves Thibaudet on piano, Lisa Batiashvili on violin, and Gautier Capuçon on cello. Putting soloist egos aside, the three have been playing together since 2018 and their joy in collaboration is obvious to behold.

They started a cross-country tour of the United States last week with a delightful program, starting with the rediscovered Piano Trio No. 1 in C Minor that a lovesick 16-year-old Dmitri Shostakovich composed in honor of a beloved. What's amazing is that the 15-minute work is instantly identifiable as Shostakovich, and like most of his early compositions, it's a complete delight.

Next was another rediscovered Piano Trio in G Majorr by Claude Debussy, written when he was 18 years old, and it sounds nothing like the composer of La Mer and Pelleas et Melisande. Scott Foglesong, the program annotator, notes: "Anyone expecting to hear a lost Debussy masterpiece is likely to be disappointed, for this lovely trio evokes the pastel elegance of Massenet and Delibes." Thibedaut in particular was masterful on piano all evening, shaping the tempos and never drowning out his two string colleagues.

After intermission, they played a big, serious 45-minute work, Antonin Dvorak's 1883 Piano Trio No. 3, and it was such a gripping performance that the audience burst into applause after three of the four movements. Thankfully, they also remained silent at the end of the heavenly third Poco Adagio movement before exploding at the finale. The trio never played too loudly to fill up the hall, but their sound was forceful enough to be heard even at its softest.

I have somehow missed Gautier Capuçon's many appearances with the SF Symphony over the years, but was always amused by how his publicity photos made him look like the ultimate French matinee idol. To my utter surprise, he actually looked the same in real life, and both his solo moments and interplay with the luminous Lisa Batiashvili were sublime. If you have a chance to catch the trio anywhere on this stateside tour, do so.

Early Voting

Walking up Van Ness Avenue early Tuesday evening I heard loud chants echoing through the streets that sounded like a protest but turned out to be dueling electoral supporters of Scott Wiener and Connie Chan. The two Congressional candidates were scheduled for a debate that night at the Sydney Goldstein Theater at the corner of Hayes and Franklin. For a report on the actual debate, click here for Yujie Zhou's post on Mission Local.

Either candidate would probably be a fine congressperson, at least in comparison to the vast majority of their future colleagues, but there is a huge division in their local support. Wiener is the favorite for the local Democratic establishment and tech sector, raking in millions of dollars in contributions, while Chan is the upstart candidate from the neighborhoods. The most intriguing mystery of the race is why retiring congresswoman Nancy Pelosi, whose seat they are vying for, endorsed Chan rather than Wiener in the race. What did Wiener do that so pissed her off that she's bucking her own political allies? Nobody is saying.

Meanwhile, I received the above email from California's Secretary of State advising that my midterm ballot had been sent to the Post Office on October 2nd and that I should be receiving it in a mailbox between October 5th and 7th.

However, by Wednesday, October 14th, no ballot had appeared so I walked to San Francisco City Hall to vote with a new ballot.

Paranoid from multiple stories about the US Postal Service screwing with the elections for the criminal federal regime, I asked an elections clerk if there had been an uptick in "lost" ballots from the USPS, and she assured me that so far it was the usual amount of missing strays. There was hardly anyone beside myself at the City Hall basement Voting Center except for a male couple having a loud argument, ending with the older gentleman repeatedly screaming "Don't use my address!" before storming out of the building.

With its roster of judges, school board members, state and county propositions, local and state and federal candidates, the California ballot this year is overwhelming so I sat down with the printed guide at the disabled seating area and actually did a speed read through all the candidate statements before filling the ballot out.

One of the joys of visiting San Francisco City Hall is that there is a daily weddingpalooza occurring under the dome, and on Wednesday morning there were at least eight wedding parties scattered around stairways, balconies and alcoves.

I voted for Connie Chan, by the way, and realized after reviewing my finished ballot that most of the candidates I had chosen were Chinese-American, which made me feel mildly virtuous. Asians are a foundational community in San Francisco but they have been treated like crap by the presiding power structure for over a century. It's lovely to witness a sea change.