It's a rare pleasure to watch an opera becoming reality right in your
backyard, but that is the happy lot of San Franciscans who have witnessed
the emergency of Jake Heggie as an important composer -- first, of songs,
and now of the San Francisco Opera's commissioned "Dead Man Walking," due
in the War Memorial next season.

Apparently, Jake (whose first CD, "The Faces of Love," is to be released
next week) is right on schedule with the work.  A little bird attended a
run-through of the opera, and he/she gave permission to forward this
report.

   The opera is "Dead Man Walking," with a libretto by Terrence McNally
   (yes, of "The Lisbon Traviata," etc.) based upon Sister Helen Prejean's
   book, which was made into the movie starring Sean Penn Sarandon.
   The composer is Jake Heggie (born 1961), currently composer-in-residence
   at SFO.  This is his first opera.  World premiere will be October 7,
   2000.

   Disclaimer:  I happen to be a friend of Jake Heggie's.  I'll admit
   that behind this message is an element of wanting to help promote
   his opera.  On the other hand, if I didn't know him I wouldn't have
   been invited to the run-through.  So if you're suspicious of my
   motives for writing, I suggest you avoid reading this.

   Warning: I'm going to recount the plot (although if you saw the movie,
   you already know it, of course).

   Many of you are familiar with Heggie's songs:  they've been programmed
   in recitals by the likes of Frederica von Stade (who calls him "my
   Mozart"), Renee Fleming, and Jennifer Larmore.  In fact, these women
   plus Carol Vaness, Sylvia McNair, and Brian Asawa are among those
   featured on a CD to be released mid-September by BMG Classics, "The
   Faces of Love:  the Songs of Jake Heggie."

   For those unfamiliar with Heggie's music, I'd characterize it as
   "melodic 20th-century" in which the words and the drama are given
   importance equal to the music.

   If you're looking for a musical exegesis on the opera, you won't find
   it here.  One, I'm incapable of it; two, I didn't take notes and I
   got so caught up in the experience that I wouldn't have continued
   taking notes anyway.

   The run-through was held in a rehearsal hall in the depths of Davies
   Symphony Hall in San Francisco.  Inside were two grand pianos, a
   dozen or so metal chairs with music stands in front of them, about
   30 metal chairs for the audience, and a back table at which were
   seated (among others) McNally and SFO general director Lotfi Mansouri.
   A camera crew from local PBS affiliate KQED was there to record the
   session for a "Making of..." video.

   The only casting that has so far been announced is that of von
   Stade as the mother of Joe, the condemned.  (She was offered the lead
   role of Sister Helen, but declined it so that a younger singer could
   have the opportunity.) Von Stade, however, was not present for the
   run-through; young mezzo (and Adler Fellow, I believe) Elena Bocharova
   took her part as well as the parts of Sister Lillianne and Mrs.
   Charlton.  The other singers were:  Sister Helen:  Kristin Clayton,
   a soprano who will not sing this mezzo role at the premiere; Joe:
   baritone John Packard (a dead ringer, if you'll pardon the expression,
   for Kevin Bacon circa 1987); Sister Rose:  Donita Volkwijn; father
   of murdered boy/motorcycle cop:  Todd Geer; mother of the murdered
   boy/Sister Catherine:  Catherine Cook; father of the murdered girl:
   Robert Orth; mother of the murdered girl:  Nicolle Foland (who also
   sings on Heggie's upcoming CD); prison chaplain:  Jay Hunter Morris;
   prison warden:  Jere Torkelsen.  Some of these no doubt will sing
   their roles in the premiere.  There also will be a male chorus of
   prisoners.

 [NOTE:  SFO has just released official cast information for the principal
roles -- Sister Helen:  Susan Graham; Mother:  Nicolle Foland (replacing
the previously-announced Flicka); Joe de Rocher:  John Packard; Father:
Robert Orth; Father Grenville:  Jay Hunter Morris.]

   The pianos were played by Peter Grunberg and Heggie, who also sang
   a few incidental parts (and apologized for his voice in advance--indeed,
   it's not his strongest point, but it's better than Burt Bacharach's).:-)

   Maestro Patrick Summers, who will conduct the premiere, gave the
   downbeat, and we were off.  I had thought this would be a stop-and-start
   rehearsal, but, except for two brief halts to correct false entries,
   the whole two-act opera was sung right through, with one brief
   intermission.  Well, almost the whole opera:  the final scene, Joe's
   execution, was unwritten at the time (it's since been completed, and
   orchestration--for 70-piece orchestra--begun).

   I was amazed at how quickly I was drawn into the story in that
   impersonal, boxy hall.  This Friday-afternoon run-through was the
   culmination of a week-long rehearsal period, and the singers knew
   their parts well.  In no time I was transported to the world of Joe
   and Sister Helen, even thought the lights were bright, the camera
   crew was all over the place, the singers were reading from scores,
   and I already had fanny fatigue from the metal chair.  Act I built
   from the introductions of the characters through Sister Helen's first
   prison visit--meeting the chaplain, the warden, and Joe; to a courtroom
   scene in which Mrs.  De Rocher pleads for Joe's life (*great* scene
   for von Stade!); to the visiting room at the prison, where the climax
   of the act rises to a crescendo of voices clamoring in Sister Helen's
   mind (most of the characters in the opera sing in this scene).  Since
   the finale to the opera wasn't presented, this scene was the emotional
   and musical highlight of the afternoon for me.  It's a big, gorgeous
   ensemble, powerful and wrenching.  The friend who sat with me was in
   tears, and I was close to tears myself.  Pretty amazing, considering
   that I've never cried at the opera, much less at rehearsals.  I can
   remember thinking then, If they can transfer the emotion in this
   sterile hall into the opera house, they've got it made.  And think
   of what else will be available:  scenery, a darkened auditorium,
   acting, lighting, an orchestra...

   Act I focuses on Sister Helen, who is serving as spiritual advisor
   to a condemned prisoner for the first time.  During the act she
   travels through self-doubt and fear, encounters divided loyalties
   (the parents of the murdered teenagers turn on her for working with
   Joe), and finally succumbs to the pressure by fainting at act end.

   The second act offers the crux and climax of the drama:  Sister
   Helen's attempts to get Joe to assume responsibility for his actions
   ("Tell the truth, Joe; the truth will set you free") and Joe's
   execution.  Joe's brother, we've learned, plea-bargained to avoid
   the death penalty; Joe went to trial protesting his innocence, but
   was found guilty and condemned to death.  On the night of the execution,
   Sister Helen and Joe talk, and we begin to see him as a highly flawed
   human being rather than a monster.  (If that fails to come across,
   the drama fails.) Joe then has a tearful farewell with his mother
   and two younger brothers (another moving scene for von Stade, not to
   mention the Joe).  When Joe has been prepared for execution, Sister
   Helen gets him to relive the murder.  Finally, she's broken through
   his defenses:  he tells her the whole story and, sobbing, admits his
   guilt.  (This, I thought, was the most powerful scene in the movie;
   Heggie's music adds another layer of feeling and emotion that heightens
   the drama yet again.)

   That's where the run-through ended.

   The roles of Sister Helen and Joe could well be career-makers for
   the singers who land the roles.  Clayton and Packard performed them
   will great skill:  singing beautifully, enunciating well, and inhabiting
   their characters fully, even though Packard had a cold.  McNally's
   libretto masterfully delineates the characters while propelling the
   drama, and Heggie's music supports and enhances the words in a powerful
   flow of melody.

   My own operatic tastes are rooted in the 19th century.  I find Heggie's
   music unabashedly modern, yet tied strongly to the melodic tradition
   of opera from its outset.  I guess you could say you can definitely
   hum it, but you won't be humming florid cadenzas.  I didn't hear a
   single note, however, that didn't fully serve both the characters
   and the drama.  For his first time out as a composer of operas, Heggie
   has created a work that I think could be a lasting success--if the
   critics give it a chance.  I hope many of you will be able to attend
   the first run and decide for yourselves.

Janos Gereben/SF
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