Magical transformations: The Atlanta Opera takes on “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” with an insightful original production

Mark Gresham | 8 FEB 2024

In English folklore and culture, Midsummer marks a transitional period between the seasons. Celebrated on or around June 24, when “Time is at his apogee,” it is near enough to the typically June 21 date of the astronomical Summer Solstice to be conceptually interchangeable. While the solstice is considered beginning of summer in the northern hemisphere today, Summer traditionally began in northern Europe on May Day (May 1). The cultural traditions surrounding Midsummer delve into the mystical and magical, often associated with themes of fertility, abundance, and the supernatural.

Midsummer Night was considered one of the liminal times of the year when the boundary between the mortal realm and the supernatural world was at its thinnest, allowing communication with spirits and faeries. Bonfires were lit, and rituals were performed to ward off evil spirits and ensure good fortune.

The term “liminal” originates from the Latin word “līmen,” meaning “threshold.” In anthropology, liminality describes the uncertain middle phase of a rite of passage. Participants are neither in their previous state nor fully transitioned into the new one. They stand at the threshold between their old identity, time, or community structure and the new one that is established by completing the rite. That includes not only passage from one place or situation to another but one status to another, including marriage and initiation ceremonies.

Liminal spaces are places of transition, such as an arch or doorway — perhaps even a theater’s proscenium or the stage itself.

The Atlanta Opera explores all of these aspects of liminality in its new, original production of Benjamin Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre.

Britten’s opera whittles down Shakespeare’s play a little, conspicuously omitting the first act with Shakespeare’s grounding premise of the forthcoming marriage of Theseus, Duke of Athens (bass Cory McGee), and Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons (mezzo Rehanna Thilwell), thus making them more minor roles though retaining them in the final act as a purposeful and unifying element to the three subplots as the opera nears its end. However, the libretto compensates (as much as it can) for the redaction with the opera’s sole additional line: “Compelling thee to marry with Demetrius.” Otherwise, Britten and Peter Pears (who co-wrote the libretto) closely adhere to the storyline of the play. As a result, the woodland setting and the fairy characters receive much more prominence.

This shift is evident from the outset, signaled by the chorus, “Over hill, over dale,” sung by Tytania’s attendant fairies, portrayed by trebles of the children’s chorus (directed by Rolando Salazar). The arrival of Puck (mezzo Megan Marino, in her debut of the spoken role, which she says has been on her “bucket list”) heralded by trumpet and snare drum just before the arrival of Oberon (countertenor Iestyn Davies) and Tytania (soprano Liv Redpath), launching the “fairie” subplot of their contention over possession of a changeling Indian boy.

Unrelenting, Tytania exits, and Oberon calls upon Puck to seek out a particular herb, “the juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid will make or man or woman madly dote upon the next live creature that it sees.” And that sets the critical device that underlies all three subplots of the story, centered on the “Fairies,” the four “Lovers,” and the working-class “Mechanicals” respectively.

Oberon’s plan is when Tytania is asleep, he will “drop the liquor of it in her eyes” and take the changeling boy before ending the charm.

But the best-laid schemes of mice and fairies don’t always go as planned, especially when humans get involved, even if involuntarily.

Iestyn Davies (Oberon) and Meg Marino (Puck, in gas mask) in The Atlanta Opera’s production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” (credit: Raftermen)

Enter the quartet of young lovers whose amorous objectives are at odds. Lysander (tenor Kanmeron Lopreore) is in love with Hermia (mezzo-soprano Melody Wilson), but her father disapproves of him and has arranged for her to marry Demetrius (baritone Luke Sutliff) instead. They attempt to flee Athens through the forest. Demetrius pursues Hermia into the forest. Then there is Hermia’s friend, Helena (soprano Susanne Burgess), who loves Demetrius. He does not reciprocate, yet she follows him in the pursuit.

In their interactions with each other and the fairy world, they confront obstacles, misunderstandings, and illusions that test the authenticity of their feelings. These feelings and their allegiances fluctuate under the influence of magic, highlighting the fluid nature of love and the potential for personal transformation, all while providing some of the opera’s comic relief.

Oberon sees Helena and Demetrius arguing and feels pity for Helena. He decides to help her by instructing Puck to put the same herbal love potion gathered for Tytania in Demetrius’ eyes, compelling him to reciprocate Helena’s love. In his notable aria, “I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,” Oberon describes Demetrius to Puck: “Thou shalt know the man by the Athenian garments he hath on.”

That’s where things begin to go awry, as Puck mistakes Lysander for Demetrius and puts the potion in Lysander’s eyes instead.

At the end of Act I, Oberon successfully anoints Tytania’s eyes while she sleeps, and Demetrius finally gets his intended dose from Puck later in Act II, further complicating the lovers’ subplot.

Barry Banks (Flute), Wayne Odle (Snout), Andrew Gilstrap (Starveling), Jason Zacher (Snug), and Andrew Potter (Quince), Bottom’s fellow Mechanicals. (credit: Raftermen)

In the meantime, we are introduced to a company of six “rude mechanicals” of Athens, all skilled tradesmen): Nick Bottom, the weaver (bass Kevin Burdette); Francis Flute, the bellows-mender (tenor Brian Frutiger): Tom Snout, the tinker (tenor Wayde Odle); Snug, the joiner (bass-baritone Jason Zacher), and Robin Starveling, the tailor (bass-baritone Andrew Gilstrap), led by Peter Quince (bass Andrew Potter), whose trade is not named but is seemingly a playwright&emdash; perhaps a parody of Shakespeare himself.

They are amateur (and mostly incompetent) actors proposing a play for the wedding festivities of Theseus and Hippolyta: “A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus and his love Thisby; very tragical mirth.”

These characters represent ordinary people, “everyman” archetypes. They also collectively embody the archetypal roles of the “fool” and the “wise fool.” Bottom, in especially, serves as the quintessential fool—boastful, oblivious, and yet possessing a certain wisdom and insight.

The Mechanicals provide both comic relief and commentary on human folly and pretension through their antics and bumbling attempts at theatrical production. Their struggles with language, earnest but misguided attempts at artistry, and aspirations for social advancement reflect universal human desires and insecurities. In their pursuit of theatrical fame (or at least a pension from the Duke), they embody the timeless quest for recognition and validation.

Britten’s music for their Pyramus and Thisbe play adds another layer of meaning to this as a parody of nineteenth-century Italian opera. Thisbe’s lament parodies Donizetti’s “Il dolce suono”–the “mad scene” from Act III, Scene 2 of Lucia di Lammermoor.

In its blatantly comedic way, the play-within-a-play addresses the blurring between theatrical illusion and reality, echoing themes of appearance versus reality found throughout the play, inviting reflection on the nature of art, representation, and the human capacity for self-expression.

In this entirely new production of Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream by The Atlanta Opera, those themes are greatly expanded visually, spatially, symbolically, and psychologically across the entire opera. The company’s executive and artistic director, Tomer Zvulun, was the show’s production director. Zvulun concluded that none of the existing productions available for rental were suitable and that The Atlanta Opera should create an original, home-grown one. (In my opinion, that was absolutely the right approach, as Atlanta should be a vibrant originator and exporter of creativity in the performing arts.)

Scenic designer Steven Kemp and projection designer Nicholas Hussong have centered the physical staging on a wood scaffolding of platforms, arches, and staircases that are (thankfully) not entirely symmetrical (for symmetry is the death of art), though enough to feel well-balanced, encompassed by 13 LED video screens of different sizes: five placed behind the proscenium beside and behind the set, and four each on either side, left and right, outside the proscenium in the hall, on the extremes of the aprons and under and above the first set of box seats on the first balcony.

At the back of the stage is a neutral drop screen, effectively the back wall, to which lighting designer Thomas Hase adds balancing illumination as needed. On the left of center stage is a lone, bare, curving tree. Although it seems odd that foliage is absent at Midsummer, its simple spareness is otherwise in line with the non-electrical elements of the set.

A wide view of the stage and set for The Atlanta Opera’s 2024 production of Benjamin Britten’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” (credit: Raftermen)

The array of LED screens is primarily used to display a changing photorealistic composite image of the forest where most of the opera’s action occurs. Coordinated with stage lighting, this easily accommodates rapid shifts in location, time, and daylight desired for scene changes.

But there are some downsides: While the array of LED screens outside the proscenium stage may seek to make the opera a more “immersive” experience for the audience, they also draw the eye away from the central action onstage and make the drama and the actors seem visually smaller. There is also the occasional superimposition of a word or phrase from the libretto on these screens in huge type, which feels distracting, totally annoying, and without good purpose.

While that “literal” device does not work, a symbolic “abstract” one that does, in both the scenic elements and props, is the use of illuminated rods and spheres. These represent Oberon (rods) and Tytania (spheres) and their masculine and feminine energies, respectively. Their quarrel symbolizes the imbalance in nature when these energies are in conflict, which affects not only the fairy world but also the mortal realm, as seen through the disruption of the natural order caused by their dispute.

Liv Redpath (Tytania) with Iestyn Davies (Oberon) in The Atlanta Opera’s production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” (credit: Raftermen)

Glowing spheres (the feminine element primarily associated with Tytania and her fairies, who open the opera) appear at the onset and throughout (in particular, a large one that hangs above center right stage), and they are used extensively, including when the children’s chorus of fairies bring their small ones out into the aisles of the audience in the final scene of Act III (“Now, until the break of day, through this house each fairy stray”).

A glowing rod first appears in Oberon’s hand during his initial entrance (symbolizing the masculine element in nature). Glowing rods continue to appear as hand-held props and, most conspicuously, hang straight down in a group from the flies amid spheres of different sizes. During one scene of more intense conflict, the spheres and rods turn bright red, and the rods hang at disarrayed angles rather than straight down.

With this emphasis on the fairie, woodland, and fantasy aspects, it is no surprise that with Oberon, Tytania, Puck, and the dancers is where costume designer Erik Teague and wig/makeup designer Melanie Steele show off their best work. Secondly, the apparel of the Mechanicals suits both their station in life and, in the cases of Starveling and Quince, gives them a little offbeat character (which would pass in certain Atlanta neighborhoods as normal). The lovers’ and royals’ modern attire is itself not as interesting, but these characters are not expected to be outside that box.

Interestingly, Puck sometimes wears a gas mask, which, by its abstract shape alone, mentally connects to the donkey head he placed on Bottom. (The vapors it protects against collectively induce sleep in the four lovers.)

Even more intriguing, but left unexplained, is the presence of a non-speaking “Shadow Puck” (dancer Bailey Jo Harbaugh) who is a kind of companion to Marino’s speaking Puck. In costume, they are almost doppelgangers except for Marino’s hair, which is conspicuously brighter red (good choice on the part of Steele for that one difference).

Bailey Jo Harbaugh (“shadow” Puck), Megan Marino (Puck, holding the changeling), and fairie-dancers Jimmy Joiner, Gwynn Root Wolford, Brandon Nguyen-Hilton, and Ayana Dubose. (credit: Raftermen)

Bottom and Puck are the two characters that connect and progress the three central subplots. Puck is introduced in the fairies’ story, accidentally creates the disruption that underlies the lovers’ story, and places the ass head on Bottom. Likewise, Bottom is performing in the play-within-a-play that (unintentionally) parodies the lovers’ story (reaction to parental disapproval) and his interactions with Titania in the fairies’ story.

Fortunately, both Burdette and Marino both understand that in the context of a large stage and set, especially with a comic role, you not only have to project your voice, you have to project your body movements as well, and that is not just a matter of size of gesture. Both, in their respective critical roles that link all the subplots, successfully manage to do that well enough to compensate for the wide extension of the mental stage thanks to the LED screens placed beyond the proscenium.

The part of Oberon also stands out, not only because of Davies’ superbly ringing countertenor voice but also because Britten wrote this lead role for countertenor in the first place. Oberon is no Wagnerian heldentenor; instead, the part hearkens back to the heroic roles of great Baroque operas, which perfectly fits the story’s classical Greek foundation and the English fairie-fantasy elements applied to it.

It is a large cast for an opera: 15 named roles in the program (with 10 players making their Atlanta Opera debuts). Add to that the dancers and the significant children’s chorus of fairies. In typical Zvulun casting style, it is also a well-balanced ensemble, with all the chain’s links being sufficiently strong. The Atlanta Opera Orchestra, under the baton of Louis Lohraseb, well supports the cast in executing Britten’s often challenging music.

But prospective attendees should be aware: be patient. After the engaging opening scene, Act I takes a while to get its exposition of the three subplots and their characters rolling. A couple to my left did not return to their seats after the first intermission, and that’s a pity because the momentum picked up in Act II and more so in Act III for an enjoyable conclusion where all the human foibles and chaos of liminal rite of passage resolves to a happy end. ■

The final two performances of The Atlanta Opera’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” take place at the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre tonight (Friday, March 8) 8 p.m. and Sunday afternoon (March 10) at 3 p.m.

EXTERNAL LINKS:

• The Atlanta Opera: atlantaopera.org

About the author:

Mark Gresham is publisher and principal writer of EarRelevant. He began writing as a music journalist over 30 years ago, but has been a composer of music much longer than that. He was the winner of an ASCAP/Deems Taylor Award for music journalism in 2003.

Read more by Mark Gresham.

RECENT POSTS

Georgia Philharmonic blends multicultural flair, concerto premiere, and Firebird firepower for 40th season finale • 21 May 2025

Henry Cheng named music director of Johns Creek Symphony Orchestra, signaling new era of innovation and growth • 20 May 2025

Diakun makes strong Atlanta Symphony debut, Hamelin delivers luminous Bartók • 18 May 2025

Atlanta anticipates annual Jazz Festival’s free Memorial Day Weekend shows at Piedmont Park • 17 May 2025

North Carolina Symphony draws packed house for Mozart’s poignant ‘Requiem’ • 17 May 2025