GETTING WITH THE PICTURE: Lyric production of early Wagner milestone has ups and downs

The Flying Dutchman is a tricky opera to get one’s head around, let alone bring to the stage, partly because its mythical story can easily come off as simplistic. A young girl, Senta, grows up infatuated with a fantasy-man whose portrait hangs, inexplicably, in her family’s living room. One day the real fellow – a cursed sailor who is doomed to sail the world’s seas until he finds a woman’s eternal love – shows up at her house, and sure enough she falls in love with him. The Lyric Opera of Kansas City has made a game attempt to bring Richard Wagner’s first significant opera to life, with a new production designed by R. Keith Brumley, directed byBernard Uzan and conducted by Lyric artistic director Ward Holmquist. Yet despite some strong singing and acting and a workable set design, the production shines only occasionally, ultimately falling short of the Lyric’s rising standards of excellence.

Richard Paul Fink performed the title role, one he has sung on many occasions, with a strong sense of character and a wide range of moods and emotions – from warmth to desperation, tenderness to gruff resignation. He is a granite-like presence onstage, which is appropriate for this role, and his Act 1 monologue (“Die Frist ist um / Wie oft …”) sets the stage for high drama. On opening night (March 2^nd) he struggled at times with vocal focus and, especially in Act 2, pitch control. But he rallied for Act 3 to deliver his stern farewells, strikingly lit (Michael Baumgarten was lighting designer) as he stood at the bow of his sea-worn ship with its blood-red sails. Melissa Citro performed Senta with a sense of determination, her impactful voice displaying drive and desire even while sounding unyielding at times. Her Act 2 Ballad was effective, as she injected each strophe with a new mood or sense of purpose, culminating in her brash declaration of devotion to the Dutchman. She hit her stride in her Act 2 duet, during which she and the Dutchman began to realize they may be destined for each other.

Philip Cokorinos as Daland, Senta’s father, sang with paternal warmth and a sort of purity of tone.  John Pickle was Senta’s earnest and indignant suitor, Erik, which he delivered with a bright, clear voice that only occasionally strayed from the pitch; Casey Finniganas the Steersman sang his number with wit and an honest, open sound. Especially effective among the smaller roles was Suzanne Hendrix as Mary the nurse, which she sang with a warm, vibrant mezzo and a good-natured twinkle in the eye. The Lyric Opera Chorus sang with muscularity and extroverted good humor where necessary.

Keith Brumley’s set designs were straightforward: The rough-hewn interior for Act 2 was attractive enough (though the portrait felt oversized) and the Dutchman’s ship looked aptly tattered and sinister. Mary Traylor’s costume designs emphasized warm tones for the villagers that contrasted with the Dutchman’s dapper crimson waistcoat and black overcoat. Particularly fascinating were the digitally animated sea-images that were projected on a scrim during the Overture, designed by Keith Johnson of Wide Awake Films, in conjunction with Venice Communications. They depicted both the Dutchman’s disheveled vessel and Daland’s spiffy white ship being tossed about violently on waves so realistic they made you seasick.

Members of the Kansas City Symphony under Ward’s direction performed the Overture with drive and spirit, though ensemble between singer and orchestra suffered in Act 1 and entrances sometimes lacked consistency. Bernard’s stage direction was strongest in small-scale moments between two or three characters, and it was effective in the double chorus of the sailors and the Dutchman’s crew (who seemed to be singing without moving their lips). Other touches lacked polish, like the comical to-and-fro of the sailors in their Act 1 opening chorus (why don’t they just hold onto something?), or the young Senta’s outstretched arms as she “worshipped” the Dutchman’s portrait. The sudden lighting changes from warm tones to cold blues (for dream sequences, etc.) felt a tad contrived, and the Dutchman’s (ostensibly spooky?) appearance in three different doorways in Act 2 drew laughter.

Not to spoil the ending, but suffice it to say that the team has rendered, with the aid of a striking visual image (and a nod to Dorian Gray and “Night Gallery”), a conclusion that seems perhaps intentionally ambiguous but that does not stray far from the story’s roots in mysticism, redemption and apotheosis.

The Flying Dutchman runs through March 10^th at the Kauffman Center. For tickets call 816-471-6344 or go to kcopera.org.

To reach Paul Horsley, performing arts editor, send email to phorsley@sbcglobal.net.