Review of Come to Me in Dreams
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A review of Cleveland Opera's production of Come to Me in Dreams.
Eternal optimism
One of the definitions of the word 'celebrate' is: to observe a notable occasion with festivities. Certainly this week's double-bill from Cleveland Opera is exactly that, honoring as it does, the seventy fifth anniversary of the birth of Anne Frank. A German-Jewish teenager, she spent the last few years of her life crowded with six others into an attic in Amsterdam, before a betrayal to the Nazis sent them off to concentration camps. Three months before her sixteenth birthday in 1945, Anne died of typhus at Bergen-Belsen.
What is important about this young woman, and why we remember her, is her eternal optimism and belief in humanity. She was given a diary for her twelfth birthday, and kept it faithfully as long as she could. First published in 1947, it has since been translated into sixty seven languages, becoming one of the most widely read books in the world.
David Bamberger, Founding Director of Cleveland Opera, wanted to honor Anne's life on this milestone occasion. He knew of the mono-drama, The Diary of Anne Frank, by the Russian composer Grigori Frid, but it was hardly long enough at just over one hour in length to occupy an entire evening. Not finding a suitable companion piece, he created one -- Come to Me in Dreams -- which had its world première on Wednesday 9 June 2004 in Cleveland's Ohio Theatre.
Utilizing various art songs by composer Lori Laitman, Mr Bamberger devised a work for three singers and one silent actress, while keeping the three instrumental collaborations originally specified by the composer. There is no spoken narrative, but none is needed. The concept works brilliantly. Ms Laitman had put music (for soprano and saxophone) to several poems by children who had been interred at the Terezin deportation camp, I Never Saw Another Butterfly. Another song cycle Holocaust, 1944 was for baritone and double bass. There were also other songs that she had written, some with a connection to the holocaust. As Mr Bamberger listened to these songs, he realized that by pulling the cycles apart and rearranging them, a slight narrative emerged. It's enough.
Baritone Sanford Sylvan -- on stage for the entire forty five minute work -- is The Survivor: husband and father, grieving for his lost wife and older daughter. He is unable to share his burden with his younger daughter and surviving child (Sarah Renea Rucker). Mezzo-soprano Fenlon Lamb is The Wife, while petite soprano Megan Tillmann is The Lost Child. Each of the soloists is accompanied, to great advantage, by the instrument used in the original song cycle. The double bass of Maximilian Dimoff, of the Cleveland Orchestra, sang in near-duet fashion along with Mr Sylvan, lending his songs great gravity. At the beginning, Mr Sylvan was not given much to do other than gaze with longing at his ghostly wife and child, who appeared briefly to sing, and then disappeared again. He was convincing, nonetheless.
All of Ms Lamb's songs had piano accompaniment, wonderfully provided by Judith Ryder, Director of Cleveland Opera on Tour and Music Director for this production. These songs had a wider range, such as the rather flirty Wild Nights with text by Emily Dickinson and reflective Echo set to a poem by Christina Rossetti, among others.
Ms Tillman was by turns joyful or sad in the way of children, with melodious saxophone accompaniment played by Paul Cohen. Yet, these poems were by far the most optimistic of them all. It was only when this child was taken away by two Nazi soldiers that the living child awoke from a nightmare, and was then consoled by her father in a touching scene.
In a lovely coda to the piece, Ms Laitman composed new music for all three instruments behind Ms Lamb, who sang the final song from which the title for the new work was drawn. 'Come to me in dreams ...'
There was no credit given for costume design, but they were entirely appropriate for the time portrayed -- the 1950s. The set was rather minimal, but greatly enhanced by the lighting of Izzy Einsidler, who also designed the lighting for The Diary of Anne Frank. The sometimes erratic projected titles worked erratically throughout the evening.
-- Kelly Ferjutz, www.mvdaily.com, © June 12, 2004.
One of the definitions of the word 'celebrate' is: to observe a notable occasion with festivities. Certainly this week's double-bill from Cleveland Opera is exactly that, honoring as it does, the seventy fifth anniversary of the birth of Anne Frank. A German-Jewish teenager, she spent the last few years of her life crowded with six others into an attic in Amsterdam, before a betrayal to the Nazis sent them off to concentration camps. Three months before her sixteenth birthday in 1945, Anne died of typhus at Bergen-Belsen.
What is important about this young woman, and why we remember her, is her eternal optimism and belief in humanity. She was given a diary for her twelfth birthday, and kept it faithfully as long as she could. First published in 1947, it has since been translated into sixty seven languages, becoming one of the most widely read books in the world.
David Bamberger, Founding Director of Cleveland Opera, wanted to honor Anne's life on this milestone occasion. He knew of the mono-drama, The Diary of Anne Frank, by the Russian composer Grigori Frid, but it was hardly long enough at just over one hour in length to occupy an entire evening. Not finding a suitable companion piece, he created one -- Come to Me in Dreams -- which had its world première on Wednesday 9 June 2004 in Cleveland's Ohio Theatre.
Utilizing various art songs by composer Lori Laitman, Mr Bamberger devised a work for three singers and one silent actress, while keeping the three instrumental collaborations originally specified by the composer. There is no spoken narrative, but none is needed. The concept works brilliantly. Ms Laitman had put music (for soprano and saxophone) to several poems by children who had been interred at the Terezin deportation camp, I Never Saw Another Butterfly. Another song cycle Holocaust, 1944 was for baritone and double bass. There were also other songs that she had written, some with a connection to the holocaust. As Mr Bamberger listened to these songs, he realized that by pulling the cycles apart and rearranging them, a slight narrative emerged. It's enough.
Baritone Sanford Sylvan -- on stage for the entire forty five minute work -- is The Survivor: husband and father, grieving for his lost wife and older daughter. He is unable to share his burden with his younger daughter and surviving child (Sarah Renea Rucker). Mezzo-soprano Fenlon Lamb is The Wife, while petite soprano Megan Tillmann is The Lost Child. Each of the soloists is accompanied, to great advantage, by the instrument used in the original song cycle. The double bass of Maximilian Dimoff, of the Cleveland Orchestra, sang in near-duet fashion along with Mr Sylvan, lending his songs great gravity. At the beginning, Mr Sylvan was not given much to do other than gaze with longing at his ghostly wife and child, who appeared briefly to sing, and then disappeared again. He was convincing, nonetheless.
All of Ms Lamb's songs had piano accompaniment, wonderfully provided by Judith Ryder, Director of Cleveland Opera on Tour and Music Director for this production. These songs had a wider range, such as the rather flirty Wild Nights with text by Emily Dickinson and reflective Echo set to a poem by Christina Rossetti, among others.
Ms Tillman was by turns joyful or sad in the way of children, with melodious saxophone accompaniment played by Paul Cohen. Yet, these poems were by far the most optimistic of them all. It was only when this child was taken away by two Nazi soldiers that the living child awoke from a nightmare, and was then consoled by her father in a touching scene.
In a lovely coda to the piece, Ms Laitman composed new music for all three instruments behind Ms Lamb, who sang the final song from which the title for the new work was drawn. 'Come to me in dreams ...'
There was no credit given for costume design, but they were entirely appropriate for the time portrayed -- the 1950s. The set was rather minimal, but greatly enhanced by the lighting of Izzy Einsidler, who also designed the lighting for The Diary of Anne Frank. The sometimes erratic projected titles worked erratically throughout the evening.
-- Kelly Ferjutz, www.mvdaily.com, © June 12, 2004.