But later that evening at the ceremony opera’s Nov. 1 opening day performance, Philadelphia’s FringeArts place was transformed into a ground of wonder. We Start in the Dark and Death is the Birth of Life, and Your Past Made My Potential Possible are Cauleen Smith’s intricate and large banners that were first displayed in the black field theater’s curtained area.
The 90-minute musical job was created in collaboration by Smith, multidisciplinary artist Helga Davis, producer Charlotte Brathwaite, and director Sunder Ganglani, but they were n’t spotlighted in the system or the creation. The musical “has a social ceremony ending,” exploring” the ways we put lifeless things to sleep as a point of departure, and posing questions about the nature of individual and collective fix.” A pedestaling of order, and one of the most important aspects of opera, the idea of singer, were put to rest.
Helga Davis in” We Have Gone as Far as We Can Together” – Photo by Malick Welli
At the door, I received instructions that I may sit or stand, sing, dance, walk about, change seats — “engage with this job in whatever way you feel moved”, the programme noted. I had mixed feelings about whether it would work, whether an audience may be given the task of properly participating without causing mayhem.
The theater had already begun, in some ways, as I scurried into the place to find the best seat. A mound of dirt was encircled in the middle of the place by the visitors. The painted drama was overflowing in hues of orange, purple, and clean, a large fabric suspended in the air and spread across the market. A mixture of humming, singing, Tarus Mateen’s flute, and a haze of synthesized meditative sounds wafted about the room, Anaïs Maviel slowly moved about dangling a string of bells.
” We are together to make peace, grief, and joy possible by communally letting go of old concepts or versions of ourselves”, the program said. The opera did n’t start – it happened, a defining feature of the experience: we did n’t just observe, we experienced. No announcement demarcated time, the texture of sound simply evolved.
The instrumentalists and choir sat seated on the floor next to us, which only became apparent as some tapped their legs and softly clapped in rhythm while others remained in audience mode. A smoke machine joined the conflict. As Alexis Marcelo’s broken piano trills solidified into a rhythm, a choir member joined Jade Hicks on bass guitar and one lone voice that repeated,” We Begin,” and was still not quite recognized as a choir member.
Alexis Marcelo in” We Have Gone as Far as We Can Together” — Photo by Malick Welli
The performers surrounded the mound of dirt, circling it in rhythmic steps with claps and sung chords that metered, cornered, and channeled, morphing from freely searching lines into a defined direction as the phrase” We Begin in the Dark …” developed. Transitions between the six opera sections occurred in the same way each time: layers were removed without warning and arbitrarily replaced with new instruments or voices underneath. ” Opening” and” Invocation” shaded into” Connection to the Spirits” and” Planting a Seed/Funeral”, followed by” Transformation” and” Liberation”. The program was just as sly, stating “order subject to change”.
Helga Davis was supposed to be the lead actress, but she mostly sabotaged the sea of bodies that were circling the dark theater. Without a single musician serving as the main point, it was impossible to discern, let alone discern, where particular phrases and styles were going until after they had left. Inflections ranged from atmospheric and avant garde to jazz, gospel, and rap. It should have been messy, crowded, confusing, disorienting, but each shift was engineered to hold continuity. The constant formation of new ideas even as ideas deteriorated gave the impression of unbroken lines.
Participation was encouraged, but not haphazardly. The choir and instrumentalists gave specific instructions for performing five-note modal patterns and forming conductors over their audience segments. If one” conductor” misdirected a group, another would turn them to a different section to a spill of laughter.
Anaïs Maviel in” We Have Gone as Far as We Can Together” — Photo by Malick Welli
After the audience had finally shed its reluctance to fully participate, the opera reached its most communal climax. ” Do n’t you go knocking on doors that do n’t want to be opened”, the choir sang in rounds with the audience. Sometimes, a non-pitched shout of “do n’t go knocking on doors” mixed in, a friction between community and unity abounded.
But suddenly, Maviel sang out above the choir, pleading,” Open this door! Open this door please“! with an elongated spread of syllables. Light applause and laughter welcomed the line, and within moments, a mass of voices layered on a holler:” Open it up! Open them up to me”! The tapestry suspended above the dirt and audience glowed green as one pillar of light, smoke clearly rising within it, illuminated in one corner.
We Have Gone As Far As We Can Together is a triumphant reconceptualization of what opera feels and sounds like — enchanting, complex, and good. Although there are frequently failed attempts to enlist the audience’s participation, incorporate movement and dance, or introduce new staging, these elements all helped to enhance the immersion in this ritual opera.
The composer I spoke to earlier that morning said he might enjoy opera if he had seen more possibilities for what opera could be in his musical studies. He wants to like opera. The ritual opera We Have Gone As Far As We Can Together might be a good place to start because it offers a vision for the genre’s future and runs through November 9.
The American Composers Forum’s I CARE IF YOU LISTEN is an editorially independent program made possible by generous donors and institutional support. The author’s opinions are those of themselves, and they may not reflect ICIYL or ACF’s opinions.
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