IPSA DIXIT – a stunning breakthrough in the reality of postopera
It was a warm Sunday afternoon, with Long Beach Opera set to host their closing matinee of “Ipsa Dixit” at the Art Theatre on Retro Row. Billed as a philosophy-opera, Kate Soper’s monumental work became a Pulitzer finalist back in 2017, and now, it looked for new life with the beloved experimental opera company. With James Darrah directing, Christopher Rountree as music director, and Jane Eilber choreographing a duo from the Martha Graham Dance Company, the synergy and quality of the production was undeniable from the very start.
I can think of no better place for this show than the iconic Art Theatre, history rich in its walls as the oldest single-screen hall in the city. Every detail of the Art Deco space was exemplified by clever production choices by LBO, from the dramatic lighting and the use of exit doors, to the abstraction of silent black-and-white film and the obfuscation of picture with bold blue lines. Even the dancers’ elaborate costumes were reminiscent of the prohibition era. One can only equate this unique viewing experience to a live debut screening of an experimental foreign film.
As you enter the theatre to look for your seat, you find yourself intruding upon a dance rehearsal on the satellite stage. To the delight of the audience, Leslie Andre Williams and Anna Souder can be found practicing their choreography in concert black, talking it out and making adjustments right in front of you. At this point, any preconceived notions you may have about opera were instantly obliterated. This subtle detail was powerfully engaging and proved to be a cautionary tale, a tone setter for the rest of the program, one that encourages to forget everything you knew about opera. I found their “rehearsal” was effective in making the overall experience more accessible to a less frequent crowd.
As soon as star soprano Anna Schubert sang her first words, one could not help but be mesmerized and stay that way for the entirety of the 90-minute show. “Sing” is truly an oversimplification. Beyond the role of an opera singer, Schubert was asked to be a philosopher, a narrator, a lover, a conductor, a Dadaist speech puppet, and even Socrates for a movement or two. More importantly, she was the driving force behind this high-octane, tongue-twister of a soprano part, one that she handled with brilliant lyricism and unparalleled conviction. Not to mention, she actually played almost every single instrument on stage as well.
Each member of the supporting ensemble were carefully chosen, with just three heavyweights replacing an entire orchestral pit. Playing their trained instruments was no longer the sole challenge here. Beyond tackling virtuosic moments, they were each asked to push the limits of extended techniques, all the while having to shadow Schubert with their instrument and voice or engage with her verbally in theoretical debate. As the opera descended into themes of love and tragedy, flautist Rachel Beetz demonstrated her technical prowess on more than one type of flute, filling each of them with sharp slices of air, colorful bites of overtones, and keeping toe to toe with Schubert through extremely fast and difficult speech. In the midst of well-timed chaotic images behind them, the duo showed outstanding chemistry and timing in this spiraling portray of madness and despair.
In perhaps my favorite role, percussionist Sidney Hopson emerged into the character Crito, Socrates’ wealthy Athenian friend, reinterpreting their famous conversation in an attempt to convince Socrates to escape prison. Hopson and Schubert were placed on opposite sides of the marimba, against a luring backdrop of a purple dream, a vision that Socrates had before his day of execution. Carefully pacing back and forth around the keys, the duo acted out an elaborate and verbose scene with stunning ease, interspersing dialogue with hypnotic marimba lines.
Finally, it was violinist Mona Tian’s turn to shine. In the very last duo with Schubert, Tian exhibited massive stage presence on par with that of a rock star, mastering sound, placement, and choreography to support Schubert in her rhetoric and (de)construction of language. Tian can be seen shredding on her violin as Slash would on his guitar, whipping her bow like a samurai after a kill, and moaning with anguish and vibrato in the upper register of her instrument, building significant momentum for the final climax of the piece. The finale was supported by the Martha Graham dancers performing the same routine as their earlier “rehearsal”, this time with full dresses, before they changed into something even more extravagant, wandering through the crowd and confusing everyone with popcorn and soft drink in their hands.
“Ipsa Dixit” was completely transformed by Long Beach Opera in a way I’ve never seen before. A stunning examination of philosophy and art, this breakthrough opera itself can be seen as a gold standard to the genre of postopera, a term first coined by Jelena Novak to describe the reinvention of opera through new media, de-syncrhonization of image and sound, and the redefinition of sex-gender-voice relationships. However, I would argue that Soper’s masterpiece moves beyond Novak’s foundational research and goes further to ask these meaningful questions: What is opera? What makes an opera good or bad? What separates opera from other musical forms? What role should opera strive for in order to survive the rapidly changing landscape of classical music? It seems as if the closest one could get to these answers is the singular inimitable experience that is LBO’s phenomenal production of “Ipsa Dixit”.
