Review: “Candide”, a journey of one critic from the rehearsal room to the theater

Traditionally, I get to see a show by going to the theater. But in the month of December, providence brought the theater into the photo/dance studio where I work. The New York City Opera rolled into the studio with all the chicken legs and dummies and scenery pieces and rehearsed the operetta “Candide” tirelessly for a month, accompanying my daily routine of answering emails and preparing equipment for photo-shoots.     

 photo by Sarah Shatz 

At roughly the same time as NYCO moved into my work space, the concept of “embedded criticism” entered my life trough Daniel Buy, reflecting on the work of such London critics as Maddy Costa and Jake Orr. Methods of both Ms. Costa and Mr. Orr are based on watching and documenting the rehearsal process. There are interesting observations on the prospects of this method as well as the controversy regarding the ethics and value of it in their blog posts, which you can read if you click on the links.

I am not a stranger to the behind-the-scenes of creative processes. My work as a still photographer on film sets made it feel very organic to be a theater critic in the rehearsal room. My variation of the “embedded criticism” method, although initially inspired by Costa and Orr, ended up being a blend of the unique circumstances (NYCO rehearsing in the space where I work, literarily behind my back) and my interest in photographing the behind-the-scenes, which allowed me to be an observer.

Unfortunately I didn’t have the luxury of being fully immersed in the rehearsal room, as I had to do my work as a studio manager. But constantly listening to the actors rehearsing, seeing and chatting with cast and crew every day, certainly affected my impression of “Candide” when I saw it in the theater last Saturday. I rooted for the production, as everybody was kind to me and I enjoyed listening to the opera every day at work.

photo by Asya Danilova

I noticed that witnessing the rehearsals up close on a regular basis leads to the “humanization” of the star, which the entertainment industry is actively cultivating. That doesn’t lead to the demolishing of the work that the actor does, on the contrary, this aids in appreciating the actor for their performance and not the cloud of fame around them. Acknowledging the talent of unknown ensemble member, and giving a respectful but critical look at the performance of the star of the show, seem like obvious requirements for the critic, and yet it is easy to get carried away.

The New York City Opera managed to gather a star filled group of people of both cast and creators for this theatrical version of Voltaire’s satire novella written in 1759. With music by Leonard Bernstein and the current version of the book written by Hugh Wilbur, “Candide” is a revival of NYCO’s successful production of 1982. Remarkably, the principle creative positions for this production are held by the same people from 35 years ago, with the director Harold Prince, associate director Arthur Masella (assistant to Mr. Prince in 1982), choreographer Patricia Birch, scenery designer Clarke Dunham, costume designer Judith Dolan and lighting designer Ken Billington. Charles Prince, Harold Prince’s son, is conducting this time. 

photo by Asya Danilova

The concept of the show, sets and a lot of the staging remained very close to the 1982 production of “Candide”, and it’s a little strange to see the actors of the current production perform the same tricks and little physical jokes as their predecessors did 35 years ago. And yet actors had to find their own way of portraying the characters, which I had the honor of witnessing during the month of rehearsals. This is another advantage that embedded criticism gives – to be able to see the character forming before costumes and wigs will enter the stage and shape the image in it’s entirety.

This opportunity was especially valuable since “Candide” is a heavily stylized satire where characters are easily perceived as caricatures and puppets in Dr. Voltair’s street show. Exuberant costumes on the verge of being ridiculous, along with a carnival-like, busy set with multiple moving platforms and changing backdrops, took the satirical plot to an almost surreal level. Personally, the costume designer Judith Dolan went overboard, which was especially evident during the mass ensemble scenes. But over all, it suited the mood of the operetta; a high-energetic fantasy of the colonial world in the 18^th century.        

    

The adventures of four young people from imaginary Westphalia, “best of all possible world”, is a fast-paced romp, where violence and abuse are presented as laughable events. Most of the villains in the show are played by the duo of Chip Zien and Brooks Ashmanskas, portraying eight and four characters respectively. It was especially fascinating watching them during the rehearsals, creating all of these vignette characters with no costumes and facial hair to hide behind.

photo by Asya Danilova

Gregg Edelman, besides being Dr. Volter, the narrator of the story, played four other roles, sometimes changing wigs and coats on stage in the midst of his monologue. He opened the second act emerging from the orchestra pit with conductor Charles Prince helping him to dress up. The timing of his maneuvers around a multi-leveled stage, and effortless change of appearance during the performance, were impeccable and deserve acknowledgement. The authority of a story teller (after all, it is “Voltaire’s Candide” written above the stage) as well as the fact that he openly changes his masks and jumps in and out of the plot, allowed for an interesting multi-faced character which Edelman took a full advantage of.

The highly anticipated appearance of Linda Lavin as Old Lady was highly praised by the critics but brought up mixed feelings in me. Sure, her “I am Easily Assimilated” solo number, where a retired courtesan is trying to seduce a company of old Spaniards, is a gem of the show. But at other times I found Lavin rather tired and absent from what’s going on. Her comedic presence was less strong than everybody else’s, as the level of energy simply didn’t match.      

Jessica Tyler as Paquette did a spectacular job swimming against the stream, so to speak, as her character is written as simply a dumb and promiscuous maid. There is not much space for wiggle room, yet alone a way to develop a complex personality. Tyler created an adventurous, coquettish girl who simply enjoys men and is fully in charge of who she sleeps with. I couldn’t imagine a better rendition of Paquette. Another sidekick to Candide, Maximilian (Keith Phares), is obsessed with his own beauty and is a wonderful addition to the quartet of young people thrown into the cruel world.

photo by Asya Danilova

The biggest surprise in difference between rehearsal and performance was Jay Armstrong Jonson, playing Cadide, and Meghan Picerno in the role of his lover, Cunegonde. Both talented actors and singers, I was quite surprised that their voices didn’t coincide in intensity once I heard them in the theater. Picerno’s soprano filled the Rose Theater at Jazz at Lincoln Center effortlessly, powered by her playful presentation.

I was absolutely in love with the way Picerno held herself on stage, goofing around even more than during rehearsals. It was evident that both the character and the actress are genuinely enjoying themselves, which is something you can’t fake. Between seemingly sloppy, self-ironizing dancing and the strong, rock-solid singing of Meghan Picerno, Cunegonde comes across as a more sophisticated character, as one might suspect.

Jay Armstrong Johnson’s solos sounded much more modest, revealing the contrast between singers of an opera and musical. I am not entirely sure why they decided to go with a non-opera voice for the lead character. Good thing is that the lack of vocal oomph was compensated by the clean performance in the case of Jonson. He absolutely nailed the naïve and delusional Candide, making his craving for Cunegonde’s love and the meaning of human existence very sincere. In the world of hysterical optimism, Candide seems to be the only person capable of longing, which he shares in the “It Must Be So” number while squeezing between two rows in the orchestra.     

After surviving the inquisition, torture, and earthquake in Lisbon, prostitution in Paris, misfortunes in Spain, slave trade and storm at sea, to name just a few, the company of four, once careless, youths, Old Lady, and two sheep from Eldorado (don’t even ask…), arrive to the cave of the Wisest Man only to find their beloved teacher, Dr. Pangloss, who doesn’t recognize them and isn’t in a good state of mind. As Gregg Edelman, draped in the longest beard of the show, throws pages of wisdom down from the balcony to the amusement of the audience member sitting two inches from him, as the hope of finding sense in the cruelties of this world fades away. Candide picks up one of the pages and reads that the only way for man to exist in this world is to work. The decision to marry Cunegonde now seems like an act of desperation rater than romantic impulsion.

 

photo by Asya Danilova

As the entire cast sung the final “Make Our Garden Grow”, Meghan Picerno wiped her tears. Maybe she cried because it was the last evening of the NYCO’s “Candide”, which only had 10 performances. Maybe the reason is the emotional power of the song. It sounded monumental with every member of the cast aliened on stage, staring at the audience. But to me the finale of the show came across as incredibly sad, which was surprising in the context of this vaudeville-ish and, seemingly, purely entertaining operetta.

For a month and a half I have been asking myself, why “Candide”? Why do we need to listen to a satire on the 18^th century world with the music from 1956 and staging from 1982? You can blame me for redundant liberalism or the absence of a sense of humor but I found the majority of the sexist and colonial jokes in the show played out and not funny at all. If not for the young and levelheaded actors, who brought ease and fresh air, “Candide” would be very troubling for me to take in, especially in the anticipation of “the best of all possible countries” becoming “great again”.