On August 19th New Wave Opera gave their second-ever performance at the Raven’s Manor in Old Town. The group–founded by Lisa Neher, Lindsey Rae Johnson, and Kimberly Osberg–performs vocal music by living composers. Their first performance was a low-key backyard concert on a Saturday afternoon in late July. Thus their show at Raven’s Manor in Portland was their big coming-out show to a wider audience.
I first heard about New Wave Opera via their Instagram page. “Performing Vocal Music by Living Composers,” especially for treble voices, appears to be a quite general goal. But it hides a more noble goal behind the scenes: opening a space for more vocalists to perform. It’s a simple issue of supply and demand: there are so many great vocalists in Portland and the metro area, and only so many roles in major opera productions. New Wave Opera is thus the latest ensemble in Portland, along with groups such as Renegade Opera and Portland State’s Queer Opera, that are expanding the places where we can hear opera, and in what scenarios.
And no, New Wave Opera doesn’t appear to have anything to do with the New Wave music from the late ‘70s and early ‘80s (Magazine, Wire, Cure, et al) that editor Matthew Andrews mentioned in his recent article ranting about how there’s too much good music. Though maybe someone should get to work on a proper New Wave Opera (Rock me Amadeus? Invasion of Siouxsie and the Banshees?)
This may be the first time opera has ever been performed at Raven’s Manor, a gothic bar in the vein of the Coffin Club (the bar formerly known as The Lovecraft). Both venues share a macabre atmosphere, decorated with candelabras dripping wax, gothic furniture, curiosities and esoterica. The drink menu included a wide selection of absinthes, cocktails served in a wooden box with dry ice mist seeping out of its corners, and beers served in skull-shaped glasses. Even a normal clear electric kettle seems like an alchemist’s tool such as an alembic. Wendy Carlos’ soundtrack to The Shining poured out of the speakers.
The waitresses (and many of the customers) wore all-black outfits along with blue lipstick and cut-crease eyeliner. It’s all a bit silly, a la “Keep Portland Weird,” but in a somewhat tongue-in-cheek way: what’s wrong with being a bit silly?
During the performance, some patrons waiting to be seated smiled in delight at the opera performance, knowing they picked the right night to go out to the Raven. Others may not have been expecting opera that night, but rolled with it. Fully expecting guests to come in-and-out, NWO performed many of the pieces twice, which was a great choice. That way, people who arrived late wouldn’t worry about missing out. Each set was only about twenty to thirty minutes long, leaving ample space for breaks and chit-chat.
All the strange things
Throughout the night New Wave Opera performed works by composers you may know: Gabriela Lena Frank, William Bolcom, Melissa Dunphy and Libby Larsen. But most germane to us here at ArtsWatch are the pieces by NWO founders Lisa Neher and Kim Osberg as well as Cascadia composer Dianne Davies.
New Wave Opera is a larger collective of performers for piano and voice, but at the Manor we heard just four: vocalists Neher, Johnson and Allison Kim-Yok Knotts, all accompanied by pianist Stephen Lewis. A while ago, I heard someone commend Philip Seymour Hoffman’s performance in The Master specifically by talking about his chin–sticking it out in an assertive, but overcompensatory way befitting of a nascent cult leader.
Considering that, I was interested in seeing how the three vocalists convey meaning through their expressive movements. For Neher, it was her eyebrows; for Johnson, her hand movements; for Knotts, her mouth. Hopefully that unusual anecdote gives you an idea of what it’s like watching these three perform together.
The trio of Neher, Knotts and Johnson performed Osberg’s If You Cheese, a humorous micro-opera about the stresses and vagaries of preparing charcuterie. The libretto (also by Osberg) is littered with the cheesiest puns you’ve ever heard, helpfully capitalized LIKE THIS to make sure you got the joke. In the performance the puns were delivered with the dad-jokey “I know this joke is corny but I’m gonna sell it so it becomes funny” cadence.
Neher had two pieces on the program: the miniature song cycle Snapshots and How Doth the Little Crocodile? The text of Snapshots comes from various student submissions to the University Daily Kansan, the student newspaper at University of Kansas, where Neher received her master’s degree. The cycle combines humorous vignettes–sometimes less than thirty seconds long–with banal texts rendered significant by their brevity and sense of mystery. Some were surrealistically funny, like “Turtle Fence:”
A Turtle Fence is exactly what you think it is. It is a fence that keeps turtles from being hit by cars.
Some were more heartwarming, like “Tuesdays and Thursdays”:
The best part of my Tuesdays and Thursdays is getting to talk to you on the bus.
And “Rain,” while still poignant, carries a sentiment wholly foreign to the PNW:
Rain brings out all the strange things people do to avoid it.
Snapshots reminded me of Gabriel Kahane’s craigslistlieder, or the mini-songs of Gyorgy Kurtag. Neher herself also cited Franz Schubert as one classical precedent to this short-and-sweet approach to art song composition.
Neher’s other work, How Doth the Little Crocodile, sets one of Lewis Carroll’s many absurdist poems in the vein of “Jabberwocky” or “The Walrus and the Carpenter.” The setting rooted around D minor exudes a mysterious and playful chromaticism, with pianist Lewis punctuating the doubled vocal lines with angular runs.
Dianne Davies’s Sleep Saga details the myriad reasons we have for not sleeping. Whether it be the monster in the closet, anticipation for The Big Day, intrusive dramatic thoughts or anxiety, Davies turns it into a beautiful art song accompanied by music-box-like piano textures.
Neher mentioned as we were talking after the concert that music should be willing to be funny and less serious. It takes the pressure off musicians and audiences from expecting perfection. It’s a burden to feel the weight of centuries upon our performances, as if we are turning Bach over in his grave if we deign to disagree with performance conventions (Glenn Gould and his many critics are a perfect example).
As I mentioned above about the willingness to be silly, there is a space for music that is entertaining above all else. Music is valuable in and of itself; it doesn’t need to justify its existence. But it can feel tough for artists to feel pressure to make our art seem relevant to the current moment. Or they can feel pressured to speak to the moment. Sometimes we want to hear a song about a jellyfish, and hearing a trio sing about a cheese board doesn’t mean we can’t also enjoy more socially conscious music. It isn’t a zero-sum game. There is space for both in our musical culture, and I’m glad that New Wave Opera is open to addressing lighter themes.
There are two shows upcoming in New Wave Opera’s inaugural season next month. The first is on October 5 at Mendelssohns, featuring Neher, Johnson, Carolyn Quick and Hannah Early performing much of the same repertoire as was performed in August. Then on October 21 and 23, they will be back at Raven’s Manor for a quartet of spooky contemporary operas. Two of the operas are based on works by Edgar Allen Poe: The Oval Portrait by Felix Jaffar and THUMP by Osberg. The other two are equally intriguing. She conjures by Lisa Neher and Bea Goodwin deals with Scottish folk music and witchcraft. And finally, an opera by Del’Shawn Taylor and Joanie Brittingham that parodies Sex and the City, called Serial Killers and the City. If while watching the HBO show you ever wondered, “what if Carrie Bradshaw was a murderer?” then this is the opera for you.