AUGUST 2016 — VOL. 81, NO. 2

Indies Ascending By Matthew Sigman

DESPITE THE CRIES OF DOOM befalling established American opera companies—dwindling audiences, perilous finances—each season a new crop of entrepreneurial companies invariably sprouts. Fertilized by the youthful spirit of singers, conductors and directors, these companies create innovative new works, reinvent classic repertoire, explore unusual venues and reach audiences outside the mainstream. The New York Opera Alliance, a consortium founded in 2011, boasts around forty members in the metropolitan area.

RHYMES WITH OPERA/2007 Four of the five founding company members of Rhymes with Opera, from left: composer Ruby Fulton, composer George Lam, soprano Elisabeth Halliday and baritone Robert Maril.

They may be saddened by the loss of adventurous peers such as Gotham Chamber Opera, but they’ve long since stopped sitting shiva. “They come, and they go,” says William Remmers, founder and artistic director of Utopia Opera, “but lately they come more than they go.” The Metropolitan Opera may cast a giant shadow, but the lights of New York are

more than sufficient for imagination to grow. With annual budgets ranging from $1,000 to $500,000 and ticket prices ranging from $20 to $80, some have an unabashed hey-kids-let’s-put-on-a-show ethos, while others deliver slick professionalism. In a recent roundtable discussion, hosted by opera news at the National Opera Center, leaders of three adventuresome New York companies discussed their aspirations, frustrations and growing pains. Take away a few zeros on the balance sheet, and the challenges they face are not much different from those of big-budget companies: they strive to create a distinctive brand, select compelling repertoire, lure and retain audiences, raise and earn money, and identify talent. None of these three companies—Venture Opera, Utopia Opera and Rhymes with Opera—is at a loss for vision and energy. But they could all use money and staff resources. When asked what he might do if a major unrestricted gift came over the transom at Venture Opera, founder and general director Jonathon Thierer doesn’t hesitate for a semiquaver: “Hire a development director!” he says. “Because at the end of the day, if you don’t have money, you can’t do anything. You need somebody to take over the job of building the finances and building the engine that powers your company, so that you can keep doing what you are doing.”

Like many opera entrepreneurs, Thierer is a singer who has recast himself as a producer. The Chicago native, a baritone who graduated from Manhattan School of Music in 2015, sees the potential to create a new place for opera in modern society by placing traditional repertoire in immersive environments. His objective is to brand Venture as “opera on an intimate scale—intimate enough that the audience connects with each and every emotion.” The company selects venues to match its mission: “You are not a thousand feet away from the stage, like the Met,” says Thierer. “It’s one person to another.” Venture recently presented Carmen at Diamond Horseshoe, the showman Billy Rose’s former nightclub in the basement of the Paramount Hotel, now a popular space for experimental theater. Remmers hails from Long Island and has been on the opera scene for several years as a baritone, director, conductor, pianist, percussionist and producer at several indie companies. Utopia Opera, he says, started as “an ad hoc group of friends” and is only now beginning to become a professional organization. (“One more signature and we’ll be incorporated.”) The company performs at the Ida K. Lang Recital Hall at Hunter College, a 148-seat theater without wing, fly or depth space, let alone a proscenium—but which, Remmers says, can be transformed into a fully theatrical experience with costumes, props and a few footlights. He acknowledges that the minimalist approach can last only so long. “Our singers and audiences expect—demand—that we get better with each show,” he says. Despite the creeping pressure to grow, he still sees Utopia as “a mom-and-pop company that does not pander or condescend.” The company brings wine and snacks for the audience. Remmers believes another element differentiates Utopia’s brand in the crowded indie field: “We are the funniest company,” he insists. They perform mostly comedies, from Falstaff to a transgender transposition of Gilbert & Sullivan’s Princess Ida. Robert Maril, a cofounder of Rhymes with Opera—and yet another baritone—was raised in Oklahoma, studied at DePauw University and received a master’s in music from the Peabody Conservatory in 2004. He defines RWO as “a contemporary ensemble that commissions new works by emerging composers.” It performs most often in the seventy-five-seat Bank Street Theater in Greenwich Village. With, say, seven performers and six crew, the ratio of audience to company may be five to one. “The theater is small,” Maril acknowledges, “but new music fans in New York City have big opinions. A lot of our audience is composers and musicians and their friends—everyone you would expect to come to an indie opera production.” Maril’s fellow RWO founders, composers George Lam and Ruby Fulton, are well networked into both the academic and new-music scenes. While Venture and Utopia stick to more traditional fare, albeit with highly divergent degrees of interpretation, Rhymes with Opera sits on the cutting edge of innovative repertoire. Where else would you find Lam and John Clum’s Heartbreak Express, a new opera that follows four Dolly Parton “superfans” waiting to meet their idol for the first time? “Our operas tend to focus on interpersonal experiences,” says Maril. “They don’t have to have a time period or even a plot or words.” RWO productions have emphasized projections and puppetry as much as people. For Erik Spangler’s Cantata for a Loop Trail, an RWO commission, the company positioned singers and environmental sound installations throughout Manhattan’s Isham Park. As part of its mission, RWO also presents an eight-week summer music program for composers and singers. At the end of the workshop, each composer emerges with chamber pieces that the company performs. “The whole reason for our company is that George and Ruby were young composers, and they know that it’s almost impossible, if you are a young composer, to get an opera staged.” WHILE THE MET LOOMS LARGE, none of these companies see the $300-million Goliath as competition. “The Met is who we are competing with the least,” says Thierer. “It’s a separate audience.” If anything, companies such as Venture compete with Netflix, or any of the many stay-home-or-go-out choices available to urban culture consumers. Venture’s specific target is city-dwelling millennials, age twenty-five to forty. The companies’ “new and edgy” productions are built with that audience’s aesthetics in mind. Social media, web banners and word of mouth are their targeted marketing channels, not print or posters. Audience word of mouth is essential. There is no competition among these smaller companies. “There’s a lot of communal feeling,” says Maril. “We support each other. At the end of the day, we are all after the same thing.”

A challenge these companies do face is coordinating their schedules with other indie companies. “A lot of people who go to shows by companies like ours are also performers in shows like ours,” says Remmers. “They can’t see the show, because they are doing another opera.” Among the objectives and functions of the New York Opera Alliance has been to maintain a shared website, with an online event calendar to minimize such overlap. Administrative offices for these companies are bedrooms, coffee shops or wherever they can get Wi-Fi or a cellular signal. Maril relates a recent meeting of Rhymes with Opera leadership, which convened via Google Hangouts, an online platform that allows for voice and video teleconferencing. Participants linked in from Hong Kong, Baltimore, San Diego, New York City and Washington, D.C. Artistic headquarters for these companies are in Manhattan. Whereas hipster Brooklyn, with its “lumbersexual” culture, is the incubator of the avant-garde—and home to the particularly successful LoftOpera—the artistic locus for Utopia, Venture and RWO remains the island of Manhattan. (For the record, none of these clean-shaven, well-groomed interviewees arrived on a skateboard. No tattoos or piercings were readily apparent.) Says Thierer, “The brand we are building for the company is better suited to Manhattan. We are achieving our demographic goals.” And while mega-million-dollar condos are sprouting all around Greenwich Village, the quiet, cobblestoned side-streets still offer a bohemian atmosphere suitable to the offbeat brand of Rhymes with Opera. Says Maril, “To have something ‘downtown’ is cachet.” Venture Opera casts through agents, with a focus on artists at the level of major vocal competitions. “You just know they are going to be great, but they haven’t had their break, so they are eager for work,” says Thierer. Utopia holds auditions but often casts from within its artistic family. At Rhymes with Opera casting is also mostly “an inside job,” says Maril, who performs regularly with the ensemble. RWO does, however, hold auditions for its summer program; it also looks for artists whose interests and passions match the company’s composer-driven mission. “We love it when people come with a piece a composer friend has written for them,” says Maril. “We don’t want to hear Menotti.” GOVERNANCE FOR these companies is still in the hands of performers and a coterie of their friends, some of whom fundraise or perform pro bono professional services, but proper boards are in various states of emergence. These leaders know that in order to achieve their artistic vision they must cede to stronger, more independent board leadership. Thierer relates a recent conversation he had with Opera America president Marc A. Scorca. “He said the board of directors cannot be just friends. It has to be people who are going to be checks and balances. They have to be people who will look at your sales and fundraising and say, ‘This is what you need to cut.’” Remmers notes that, for a small company, even the appearance of bad financial management is bad public relations. “It’s very easy to overstep your bounds with one big production, then cut back for the next,” he says. “But people will have less and less faith in the company. If you can’t keep the momentum going forward, people will say, ‘This company is foundering.’” Despite their different missions, there is one strategy that all three leaders agree on: shedding the stereotypes of the art form. Whether it’s Venture through immersion, Utopia through humor, or Rhymes with Opera by pushing the possibilities of music as theater, each strives to reach a contemporary audience by breaking away from classical norms. Gimmickry, however, is out of bounds. “Audiences are smart,” says Remmers. “Is it a gimmick or is it meaningful? The audience will know.” Thierer agrees that meaning comes through interpretation, not spectacle. “Art is a reflection of us at a given period of time. There is no way you could take Norse gods and suddenly put them in jeans and hightops and have a hipster Ring cycle,” he says. As for Rhymes with Opera, despite the seriousness with which some of their most outré work is curated, one might think that every now and then the limb they go out on will break. Has the company’s leadership or audience ever said, “This has gone too far?” Maril answers, with a mischievous grin, “Not yet.”

November 18, 2015

A Trio of 21st Century Operas at Untraditional Venues By James Jorden

A scene from Heartbreak Express. PHOTO: Janette Pellegrini

You’ve got to love New York. Most places would be overjoyed to have a new production of Berg’s Lulu at their major opera house, let alone so sharp and splendid a presentation as is currently in the repertoire at the Met. But here in Gotham last week, we had no fewer than three 21st-century operas playing simultaneously. Most successful was an unpretentious gem entitled Heartbreak Express, presented Saturday (and running through November 21) by a scrappy little group called Rhymes With Opera. This odd but delightful opera is a character study of four fans of singer Dolly Parton who are waiting for an audience with the legendary lady.

Librettist John Clum took his inspiration from a documentary film about Ms. Parton fandom, For the Love of Dolly, loosely basing his characters on fans depicted in that movie. In the opera, quarreling smalltown sisters Darlene and LuAnne have dressed up in homemade butterfly costumes to honor Dolly. Joining them in a waiting area are a gay couple, Travis and Don, whose relationship is strained by Travis’ obsessive collecting of Parton memorabilia. These four unhappy people have come on a pilgrimage in hopes of having their questions answered and their problems solved. (As they approach the divine presence, a mysterious Assistant warns, “She can touch you, but you can’t touch her.”) But in the end, worldly pain is not so easily assuaged: Dolly helps those who help themselves. So offbeat a topic might have tempted a composer to bizarre and campy excesses, but George Lam kept his music heartfelt, always attentive to the cadences of speech. This is one of the few operas I’ve attended lately that didn’t include projected titles of some kind, and, to be frank, one of the few that never needed them. Mr. Lam makes a few charming references to Parton’s musical roots, in particular a honky-tonk waltz that wells up from the saxophone during Darlene and LuAnne’s first argument. When the Assistant (countertenor Peter Thoresen) takes a moment to ponder his boss’ oblique wisdom, his music, flipping between a fluttery chest register and flute-y head tones, seems to echo the Nashville diva’s distinctive vocal stylings. Elisabeth Halliday brought commitment to LuAnne’s bitter recriminations and Karen Hayden captured Darlene’s sulkiness with a powerful lower range. John Callison’s warm baritone evoked sympathy for Don’s worries about his relationship, and Robert Maril’s slightly fussy vocalism was altogether appropriate for high-maintenance Travis. In contrast to Heartbreak Express’ modesty, Tom Cipullo’s Glory Denied, presented Thursday by Chelsea Opera, seemed to overreach. This 2008 work (first heard locally five seasons ago) A scene from Heartbreak Express. PHOTO: Janette Pellegrini

portrays the frustration of the real-life Vietnam War POW Col. Jim Thompson, who returned home after nine years of captivity to find his marriage destroyed and the country unrecognizable.

Mr. Cipullo’s method of condensing this vast story into two hours of stage time recalls the dramatic structure of the Sondheim/Goldman musical Follies. Thompson and his wife Alyce each are presented in “younger” and “older” versions, a solution I found confusing when the performers of these roles were called on to portray other characters, as well (for instance, the warden of Thompson’s prison camp). A further complication is that Mr. Cipullo’s music was so unremitting. It makes sense, of course, that a scene of torture or even an angry confrontation between husband and wife could be noisy or even brutal, but the wildly leaping vocal lines and percussive orchestra almost never relaxed. With so much of the text incomprehensible, I could only guess at the story. Only when I read the program notes afterward did I realize that the older Thompson’s odd posture in the final scene was meant to indicate that he had suffered a stroke. If Alyce comes off as a two-dimensional shrew in this piece, that’s less Mr. Cipullo’s fault as that of the shrill singers Kate Oberjat and Martha Guth as the younger and older incarnations. (They weren’t helped by a pair of singularly unrealistic wigs.) Tenor Brandon Snook swung his light tenor fearlessly at the younger Thompson’s tormented wails, while baritone Peter Kendall Clark rose to an impressive frenzy in the retiree’s breakneck patter song about changes in American society. Lynne Hayden-Findlay, one of the founders of Chelsea Opera, gamely staged the piece on a platform improvised above the altar of St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, though she might have rethought the nonstop smoke effects. Carmine Aufiero kept a tight rein on the bombastic orchestration even when he fell off his stool in mid-scene. Also covering the singers was the relatively small band of You Us We All at this musical theater piece’s American premiere at BAM Wednesday. That’s particularly bizarre since the singers were all body-miked. Not that you missed much, because the libretto by playwright-director Andrew Ondrejcak runs to such epigrams as “I forgetith how glorious the sunset is at thy infinity pool.” That observation is part of a colloquy between the allegorical figures of Hope and Virtue, who knock back martinis and debate whether to take the party to a nearby lap-dance club. Later in this modern reimagining of a 17th-century English court masque, Death asks his boyfriend Love if his failure to reply to an email constitutes a breakup. It’s not unpleasant. The music by Shara Worden is happy-shiny pop with a seasoning of Philip Glass, at its bubbliest in a series of fan letters to pop divas like Beyoncé, sung by Hope (Ms. Worden) in a gossamer little-girl soprano. But the piece has so little substance it seems to drag on much longer than its actual duration of under 100 minutes. People took their clothes off, Time (scruffy actor Carlos Soto) rolled up the glossy stage floor to reveal a trap door to nowhere and Death (Bernhard Landauer) wailed in an anguished countertenor as Love (baritone Martin Gerke) delivered blow-up rabbit dolls to the rest of the cast. The audience laughed here and there, usually at an easy pop culture reference. As for me, I loved the rabbits, but otherwise You Us We All was not my cup of twee.

November 17, 2014

In performance: Rhymes With Opera “Heartbreak Express” By Michael Berg Alongside the frequent (and highly publicized) struggles of large opera companies, there lies a compelling trend: a growing wealth of smaller-scale opera companies that prioritize innovative productions of everything from standard repertoire to obscure gems to entirely new works. Rhymes With Opera is a perfect example of such a company. Since their founding in 2007, they have provided consistently highquality performances of new operas, often in varying stages of development. Friday night’s concert performance of Heartbreak Express at the charming H.B. Playwrights Theater is no exception; in this semi-staged reading, RWO treated its audience to selections from this compelling new piece, which the company hopes to present fully staged before long. Kudos to RWO for the evening’s inventive programming: they invited pop trio Siren to perform small sets between the selected numbers from the opera. In the spirit of the opera, the trio played several Dolly Parton songs, while including several original pieces as well as selections by everybody from Beyoncé to Alanis Morissette. Between their intricate harmonies and clever arrangements of well-known works, Siren’s delightful performance provided a perfect counterpart to the opera.

Robert Maril, Karen Hayden, Elisabeth Halliday |Photo Credit: Janette Pellegrini

Heartbreak Express tells the story of four Dolly Parton fans who have an opportunity to meet the country star, first focusing on their interaction as they arrive at Dollywood and then on their reactions afterward. These four fans, supervised and herded by Ms. Parton’s assistant, arrive in two couples: LuAnne and Darlene are middle-aged sisters who dressed in angel-wing costumes for the meeting, and Don and Travis are a couple whose entire home is a shrine devoted to Dolly paraphernalia. For Darlene and Travis, meeting Ms. Parton has the air of a holy experience, on which they pin hopes for some form of personal salvation or revelation; their counterparts, LuAnne and Don, are not as devoted, but make the trip out of a combination of love and obligation. During the interview, Darlene has a nervous breakdown, and LuAnne— who appeared not to expect much from Dolly—is struck by her graciousness and sensitivity. Travis, meanwhile, is crushed by the fact that Dolly does not (indeed, can not) live up to his expectations, and Don is deeply troubled by his partner’s obsessive behavior both before and after the interview. The structure of the piece is, in effect, a Classical or Baroque aria writ large: the first act is expository recitative, while the second act is a series of lyrical reflections in which the characters relate the experience of meeting their idol. The libretto, written by John Clum (who also served as director for the production), adroitly contrasts witty and fast-paced dialog with poignant reflection throughout the piece. George Lam’s score is evocative and nuanced, featuring a muted perpetual motion in the orchestra ensemble out of which individual instruments emerge to intertwine with the vocalists. Under the baton of Joon Andrew Choi, the orchestra played with precision and expression, providing the perfect counterpart to the narrative as it unfolds. The singers appeared more comfortable with the music of the second act than with the recitative-like music in the first; there were moments of discomfort for all four as they navigated the less lyrical passages, but they acquitted themselves well overall. Soprano Elisabeth Halliday sang the role of LuAnne with crystalline intensity, particularly in her stunning performance of the Act II aria, “Ease This Burden.” Soprano Karen Hayden (Darlene) conveyed charming naïveté with her well-crafted presentation of the younger sister, singing with earnest warmth. In the role of Travis, baritone Robert Maril sang with searing fervor, effectively portraying the character’s blinding obsession and the crippling disillusionment he experiences after meeting Dolly. Baritone Gerald Yarbray (Don) sang with subtlety and expressivity, doing a marvelous job of acting with the voice and reacting to his partner’s worrying mania. And countertenor Peter Thoresen (the Assistant) sang with agility and passion in a role that ebbed and flowed between comic relief and eerie reflection.

Gerald Yarbray, Robert Maril | Photo Credit: Janette Pellegrini

All told, RWO’s concert reading of Heartbreak Express was an engaging performance that the full house enjoyed with great enthusiasm. The second and final performance was Saturday, November 15th, but if you found yourself unable to attend, don’t fret: RWO has promised a fully staged production, which—if it lives up to the promise of last night’s performance—will be a marvelous experience for all involved.

January 22, 2014

Theatre Review: ‘Red Giant’ by Rhymes with Opera By Jessica Maiuro Ever heard of a sci-fi opera? Me neither. The possibility of these opposite-world genres coexisting came to life at the Barrow Street Mansion this past Sunday (1/19) thanks to the brilliant minds behind Rhymes with Opera. RWO is a non-profit Baltimore and New York City based contemporary music and opera ensemble who combined these categories in a story called “Red Giant.” The drama captures a day in the life of three characters on board a claustrophobic space ship years after their planet has exploded in a fiery doom. “Red Giant,” performed in an intimate setting with few stage props, opened with the world premiere of Baltimore composer Erik Spangler’s “Damascus Mix.” Soprano Bonnie Lander was the soloist and an all-out one woman show. Lander began by recording herself making guttural sounds with her mixer and iPhone. Lander then introduced these recorded sounds to a larger cut-up of international news reports. While it was difficult to make out specific words or phrases, the intention was clear.

The journey of the music quickly picked up its pace and the pressure built leaving the audience completely transformed. New cut-ups flowed into intergalactic shooting stars that transformed into a hip-hop beat and then an EDM (Electric Dance Music) beat, all while Lander’s operatic notes floated through. The room was overwhelmed with sound and listeners seemed to float along in space with her.

The lights dimmed, preparing for a wild experience within a one-act play. The production opened with three characters, one man and two women, dressed in what looked like futuristic potato sacks, sleeping. They immediately debated whether to turn the lights on, and viewers quickly got the sense that this question was a part of their daily struggle. The man (baritone Rober Maril) fought against Lander’s character to keep the lights off for fear that the seemingly sicker, more fragile third character might be disturbed by it, “Why turn the light on if there’s nothing to see?” The possibilities were as vast as the outer space they were in. Alliances and characters become clearly defined – there’s Mr. Headstrong (Maril), Ms. Fragile (Elisabeth Halliday) and Ms. Realist (Lander). Ms. Fragile seems to put all her hopes in the other two getting along like a young child clenching a pillow hoping her parents don’t divorce. All her energy lies in their unity. Mr. Headstrong is optimistic that as long as he’s in command, things should be ok. Later on however, he admits that he dreams of walking out of the spaceship and drifting in the vast darkness alone. Ms. Reality tries to keep everyone in check and focused about exactly what has and is occurring. At one point, Lander’s character sneaks out a book from underneath piping and spaceship pieces and is subsequently begged to read a story by the life-starved Ms. Fragile. It is then that the story unfolds about how they wound up in darkness, how they drank every night and how they thought they’d be the last to merrily survive on their planet. A deep sadness grows. In this type of intimate space, the audience could almost touch the actors without even fully reaching. Despite this, however, none of the actors broke character. The acting, particularly by Lander, was phenomenal. She connected on a deep personal level with “Red Giant.” Towards the end, there was a chilling, goose bumps-inducing scene in which a radio signal comes in. As static interrupts the conversation, enthusiasm rises as the characters (and the audience) long for good news. Soon enough, however, a news anchor becomes audible and the mood plummets. They’ve heard this before. The anchor signs off, thanking everyone for listening. They all go back to sleep and “Red Giant” ends. Overall, the story begs the question about hope and its capacity to survive against uncertainty. It’s the show’s music, however, that kept it engaging. The live seven-piece orchestra, albeit small, produced a sound that could have filled the entire block, and the score could easily be mistook for the soundtrack of an indie bohemian Star Wars.

January 13, 2014

Novel works from Generous Company, Rhymes With Opera By Tim Smith Getting out of the local cultural mainstream, I recently took in the premiere of "Where the Whangdoodle Sings" by Generous Company at Theatre Project and the first staged presentation of "Red Giant" by Rhymes With Opera at the Windup Space. "Whangdoodle," a play by K. Frithjof Peterson, struck me as a rather forced fantasy, centering around a haunted tattoo artist named Voula and her equally haunted client, Benj, a stained glass window maker. The script combines a whole lot of issues -- myth, baseball (Hank Aaron's career gets particular emphasis), suicide, family ties, secrets, shame, regret, illusion -- and takes its time getting to its philosophical points. Many a scene calls out for editing and tighter focus. Still, there's something to be said about a play that brings to life one of the odder creatures from folklore, the inspiration for the song "Big Rock Candy Mountain," which is woven throughout the piece. As the Whangdoodle explains, "I'm a mythical hobo bird. I transact in trickery, thievery, guilt and coercion." He's also testy, given that a children's animated movie is about to paint a way-too-goody-goody portrait of the species. The Whangdoodle demands that Benj illustrate the truth (at least this bird's-eye view of the truth). Meanwhile, Voula's work on Benj triggers unexpected visions for both of them. And the fate of Benj's brother, lying in a coma after what might have been an accident caused by Benj, is another prominent matter. Sometimes witty, sometimes poetic, often obtuse, the play has been well-served by Generous Company, which developed "Whangdoodle" at its WordBRIDGE Playwrights Laboratory four years ago and gave it a reading at Theatre Project in 2012. The cast for the premiere staging, fluently directed by J. D. Sivert, neatly communicates the strongest material, including sharp observations about how we cope with what we know and what we only think we know. Bits of humor are delivered in telling fashion, too. Ren Marie (Voula) and Jon Kevin Lazarus (Benj) reveal tight chemistry. William R. McHattie makes a forceful Whangdoodle. Will Carson brings intensity, if not always clarity of articulation, to the curious role of Bad Henry, "myth-eater." Even if, like me, you find yourself not quite convinced by the play, the performance should leave you impressed.

Rhymes With Opera, one of the coolest DIY groups in town, put together an intriguing program over the weekend. Two programs, as it turned out. Common to both was "Red Giant,"a short opera with music by Adam Matlock and sci-fi libretto by Brian Slattery. The work, commissioned by RWO, received its first full staging at these performances. On Saturday night, Erik Spangler's "Damascus Mix" had its premiere. It was to have been repeated on Sunday afternoon, the show I attended, but had to be set aside because the soprano soloist, Bonnie Lander, was unwell -- fortunately, she felt strong enough to reprise her role in "Red Giant." In place of the Spangler work, soprano Elisabeth Halliday and saxophonist Zach Herchen, stepped up with two fascinating substitutions: "Fire Balloon" by Amy Beth Kirsten, and "The Person In The Room Wishes To Be Left Alone" by RWO co-artistic director George Lam. Music for voice and sax is quite the rarefied genre. The contributions by both of these composers reveal a knack for exploiting the human and manufactured instruments in colorful, finely nuanced form (Kirsten gets extra mileage out of the breaths both musicians take). The pieces were vividly performed. "Red Giant" concerns three Earthlings heading into the deep unknown via spaceship, while their old planet is being consumed by the sun. If the libretto sounds at times like one of the more arty "Star Trek" episodes, it conjures up an effective vision of our endangered species adrift in an unsettling sea of distant stars. The best moment may be when a character says of the voyagers' fate when they find a new home: "We'll know how to do everything better." LOL. Matlock's score makes good use of minimalist pulses and patterns, with lots of lyricism holding everything together. Vocal lines, including a fair amount of sprechtstimme (this helped Lander handle the assignment while under the weather), emerge naturally against the subtly colored orchestration. Halliday, baritone Robert Maril and what-a-trouper Lander sang and acted sensitively. The orchestra, conducted by Lam, did fine work. The staging, directed by Britt Olsen-Ecker, featured a spare set by Dustin Morris, effective lighting by David Crandall, and costumes by Rachel Christensen that suggested the opera's subtite could have been "Scarecrows in Space."