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            Stewart Wallace, The 
            Bonesetter's Daughter: 
            Libretto by Amy Tan after her novel. Soloists, orchestra of San 
            Francisco Opera, Steven Sloane, conductor, War Memorial Opera House, 
            San Francisco. 13.9.2008 (HS) 
             
            Composer Stewart Wallace and novelist Amy Tan worked for four years 
            to create an opera based on Tan's novel, The Bonesetter's 
            Daughter. Saturday night it grabbed the stage with a highly 
            emotional story, colorful staging that included Chinese acrobats, 
            dancers and musicians, a cast that supplemented standard opera 
            singers with one from Chinese opera and another from the Chinese pop 
            world, and some ravishing music by Stewart Wallace that drew from 
            all those sources. 
             
            Wallace, whose music was last heard here when San Francisco Opera 
            premiered his other San Francisco-based opera, Harvey Milk, 
            is not afraid to use the conventions of opera, however. There is a 
            mad scene, a fiery curse scene, and a Chinese wedding ceremony. 
            Characters respond to emotional moments with arias and duets, but 
            the music carefully transitions out to avoid stopping for applause. 
            The bad guy, Chang the coffin maker, introduces himself with a 
            malevolent bass aria like a 21st-century cross between Dulcamara and 
            Scarpia. 
             
            There's something else I like about Wallace's music. The melodies 
            set the words clearly. You can understand every phrase because they 
            move slowly enough and the orchestral elements never block them. And 
            his melodies go somewhere. Not for him what seems to be the fashion 
            of modern opera to write melodic fragments that evaporate instead of 
            landing somewhere.
            
            
            Hao Jiang Tian (Chang the Coffinmaker) and Qian Yi (Precious Auntie)
            
            
            Perhaps the most amazing thing is that they made it all work with 
            very few missteps. Future productions, and there should definitely 
            be some, might want to cut back on some of the artsy film 
            projections and aerial acrobatics. Or maybe not. They certainly 
            added to the sense of otherworldliness, of being in between two 
            cultures. This theme pervades this book, and much of Tan's writing, 
            including her most famous work, The Joy Luck Club. But for the 
            much-anticipated world premiere, it was simply dazzling.
            
            Musically, Wallace created a score that pulses with rhythmic life 
            even when it seems to be in stasis, using percussion some of the 
            time but often it's the thrust of the orchestral elements. The 
            company's orchestra made it sound luminous. He and Tan made several 
            trips to China for research, and while he asserts that he used no 
            actual Chinese music (no appropriation of famous Chinese melodies à 
            la Puccini in Turandot), it feels like it, a tribute for his 
            ear and composing ability. He seems to have consciously avoided 
            using the cliché of music that relies a pentatonic scale, and it all 
            feels fresh and vibrant.
            
            
            Zheng Cao (Ruth Young Kamen) and Ning Liang (LuLing Liu Young)
            
            
            The opera opens with two Chinese musicians positioned in the Grand 
            Tier playing suona, trumpet-like reed instruments. They later 
            reappear on stage, leading moments that emphasize Chinese parts of 
            the story. After some aerial acrobatics, the three main characters 
            appear in a fog, telling an elliptical version of the story. The 
            phrase, "These are the things I know" recurs, and the whole scene 
            reprises just before the final scene. This is a nice stroke. Having 
            seen the whole story play out, we hear the words and music in a 
            whole new context.
            
            We don't know in this prologue, for example, that the three 
            characters represent three generations of women: LuLing, who left 
            China for San Francisco, her mother, known only as "Precious 
            Auntie," who killed herself in the old country, and her 
            American-born daughter Ruth, who has married an American Jewish man 
            with two children. The extra resonance from the return of the 
            opening words and music is one of the opera's highlights.
            
            This music here and throughout echoes the clash and melding of 
            cultures that is inherent in the story. Mezzo sopranos Zheng Cao, 
            who plays Ruth, and Ning Liang, as the present-day LuLing, have sung 
            key roles at major opera houses, including the Met, La Scala and San 
            Francisco. Precious Auntie, being a character entirely of China, is 
            sung by Qian Yi, a star of the Chinese opera. Wallace brilliantly 
            incorporates the swoops and gestures of Chinese opera into the 
            English language. Elsewhere the melodies move as in western opera.
            
            
            Zuo Jicheng (Suona Player), Wu Tong (Priest, Suona Player)
            Li Zhonghua (Percussionist)
            
            
            The story begins in a Chinese restaurant. The waiters are acrobats 
            suspended in midair. It is LuLing's birthday and Ruth has arranged a 
            banquet. We learn that Ruth is a ghost writer who is working on a 
            book by one of the attorneys in the O.J. Simpson murder trial. 
            Agitated by an unwelcome gift, the mother starts to babble about 
            having been at the murder scene, and collapses with a stroke. 
            Unconsolable and alone, Ruth sings of how her mother disciplined her 
            as a child and contemplates suicide. A ghost who has been floating 
            through the scene puts a Chinese cloak on Ruth and ushers her to the 
            China of her mother's young adulthood.
            
            In scene 2 we meet Chang the coffin maker (bass Hao Jing Tian, who 
            was the general in the Met's The First Emperor last season), 
            who upsells his coffins by telling everyone that cheap ones let the 
            ghosts out to haunt the survivors. At the ink factory where he sells 
            his surplus wood, he leers at LuLing, a young slave girl. In a 
            lovely stroke, she is played by Cao, who was Ruth in scene 1. Qian, 
            who was the ghost, is working alongside her, and Chang boasts that 
            he has had his way with her. She has also raised LuLing, whom she is 
            said to have found as a baby. Chang decides he want to take LuLing 
            as his fourth concubine. The wedding ceremony brings in Chinese 
            music and pageantry, and a vengeance aria from Precious Auntie, who 
            immolates herself, burns down the house and promises to haunt Chang.
            
            Act II opens with LuLing homeless in Hong Kong harbour, writing 
            letters for the wives of men who have gone ahead to America. Chang 
            appears, having stalked LuLing, intent on raping her. The emotional 
            moment triggers a trio of the older LuLing in her hospital room, 
            Precious Auntie in her limbo and the young LuLing. Precious Auntie 
            breaks through her ghosthood to confront Chang and extra his 
            confessions: he murdered her father, raped her, and was about to 
            rape his own daughter. They reprise the prologue, which leads to the 
            final scene; in a moment of lucidity, LuLing and Ruth find 
            reconciliation in a lovely duet, and the music ends with 
            extraordinary delicacy as LuLing dies and reunites with the ghost of 
            Precious Auntie.
            
            The staging relies on abstract settings, a moving back wall that can 
            reveal projected moving images and extends a walkway high above the 
            stage where Precious Auntie can deliver her curse. Director Chen 
            Shi-Zheng, best known for bis staging of the Chinese opera Peony 
            Pavilion, has created two hours 40 minutes of beautifully 
            controlled movement and, despite the stories within stories that 
            move through time and space, keeps it all lucid.
            
            Qian, the Chinese opera star, and Wu Tong, a conservatory-trained 
            Chinese pop singer who plays the suona and portrays a Taoist priest, 
            singing in a clear, high voice, wear head microphones and are 
            amplified to balance the opera singers in rest of the cast. The 
            sound is unobtrusively done. In smaller roles, baritone James 
            Maddalena does well as the clueless American husband, Artie, and a 
            team of Chinese percussionists provides plenty of musical color.
            But the stars are Cao, 
            as Ruth, and Liang, as her mother. Cao's music skews toward the high 
            end of the mezzo range, Liang's to the lower end, and they sing with 
            extraordinary richness and plangency. They also look the parts. The 
            other vocal star is Tian, as Chang, his sound alternately rock solid 
            and dangerously sinuous.
            
            Conductor Steven Sloane, who conducted the world premiere of Grendel 
            at Los Angeles Opera last year and Le Nozze di Figaro at Covent 
            Garden, elicited some gorgeous playing from the orchestra and kept 
            everything in balance. The chorus, in its few crowd scenes, sang 
            well in something resembling medieval polyphony.
            
            It's a strange and wondrous mix of sounds and sights, but the 
            emotional core packs the biggest punch, especially in the final half 
            hour.
Harvey Steiman
            
            
            Pictures © Terrence McCarthy
            
	
	
			
	
	
              
              
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