The Met Opera serves John Adams’s luminous El Niño with a benchmark production

Soprano Julia Bullock with countertenors Key’mon W. Murrah, Siman Chung, and Eric Jurenas and the Metropolitan Opera Chorus in Lileana Blain-Cruz’s production of John Adams’s El Niño. © Evan Zimmerman / Met Opera

Rarely has one been washed away with such exquisite of color – aural and visual – as on Wednesday evening, when the Metropolitan Opera unrolled the third evening of Lileana Blain-Cruz’s new production of John Adams’s luminous nativity oratorio El Niño (1999-2000), conducted by Marin Alsop. Commissioned to celebrate the new millennium and premiered in December 2000 at Châtelet, Paris, the oratorio sets a libretto adapted from Latin American poetry, Wakefield Mystery Plays and various Biblical and non-canonic sources by Peter Sellars and the composer, presenting us with the story of Jesus’s birth according to Mary, intertwined with present-day overtones.

A contemporary Messiah, perhaps, the score of El Niño contains some of Adams’s most beautiful music – vocal and orchestral – as the composer examines the full spectrum of nativity – from domestic intimacy to the expanse of theological archetypes. Immaculately structured, the two-hour trajectory of El Niño is cast in two parts of tremendous emotional intensity and aching subtlety. Following the opening chorus, the first part extends from Annunciation to the birth of Jesus, whereas the second part involves the flight into Egypt, aligning, somewhat, with the narratives of Hector Berlioz’s sacred trilogy L’enfance du Christ (1853-54).

True to the oratorio tradition, the three main singers, a soprano, a mezzo-soprano and a baritone, are not assigned to singular rôles, appearing both as dramatis personae and evangelist commentators, joined by an ensemble of three countertenors. Full chorus appears in numbers aplenty, whereas the final moments are given to children’s chorus. In the pit, an orchestra of two flutes doubling piccolos, two oboes doubling English horns, two clarinets doubling bass clarinet, two bassoons doubling contrabassoon, three horns, three trombones, three percussion, piano, celesta, sampler, harp, two guitars and strings unfold instrumental settings of intricate rhythms, layered motifs, pin-point word-painting and ravishing melodies.

Although often performed in concertante settings, El Niño lends itself well to scenic productions, as resoundingly demonstrated by Blain-Cruz’s stage concept. In contrast to the pared-down visuals of Sellars’s original staging, presented in counterpoint with video narratives and choreographic commentary, the Met production embraces the colorist multitude of various Latin American sensibilities, celebrating the full timbral array of Adams’s vocal and orchestral designs – to an astounding effect.        

Harnessing the vast resources of the Met, the production excels in capturing the big moments of the score with unique dramatic splendor and power, without losing track in the often intimate key moments of the aural dramaturgy. Certainly, compared to most concert presentations, the stage ambiance calls for more projection from the singers in order to set the spacious auditorium alight, but aided by the unparalleled craft of the Met Orchestra under Alsop’s nuanced direction, not forgetting Mark Grey’s characteristically refined sound design, the musical setting at the opera house was quite remarkable indeed, enabling the cast to shine on the fine-tuned, expressive poetry of Adams’s vocal lines.

Baritone Davóne Tines surrounded by the stage resplendence of El Niño. © Evan Zimmerman / Met Opera

El Niño takes off with I sing of a maiden, a gorgeous tapestry for countertenors, chorus and orchestra, based on anonymous early English text. Altering between three and four-beat measures, the woodwinds, piano and strings sound out the core pulse, Alsop setting them into motion with somewhat faster tempi than the composer-led performances usually do, upon which the two guitars appear in gentle counterpoint. Once trombones, horns, harp and low strings establish their off-beat accents, thus completing the fabric, one is reminded of what national treasure there is at work in the pit – and on the podium. Two solo violas interlock à la Steve Reich, and soon the first choral sounds are heard, as sopranos and altos enter with syllabic oscillations, echoing Adams’s seminal processes if Harmonium (1980-81).

The syllables become words – repeats of “maiden”, actually – with tenors and basses answering with “king”, and the fabric gets transformed into marvelous choral fantasy, colored by countertenors. Descending from the ceiling, their angelic presence heralded by metallic percussion: crotales, cowbells and triangles. The two wondrous Marys, soprano Julia Bullock and mezzo-soprano Daniela Mack contemplate on the Annunciation in the words of Wakefield Mystery Plays and Rosario Castellanos, respectively, their voices completing each other in the most spellbinding manner. Culminating the opening section, the chorus and orchestra erupt into earth-shaking For with God no thing shall be impossible praises from the Gospel of Luke.

Onstage, vernal greens and liturgic blues alternate with emotionally motivated skyscapes, the palettes of Adam Rigg ‘s sets and Montana Levi Blanco costumes merging with the music in quasi-Messiaenic synesthesia, together with Yi Zhao’s lights and Hannah Wasileski’s projections.

More intimate settings of St Luke ensue, in sublime renditions from the countertenor trio Key’mon W. Murrah, Siman Chung, and Eric Jurenas with Bullock. Adopting somewhat more traditionally operatic tone than in most concert performances of the score, the singers deliver the music with vividness and detail, their timbral arches aligning with the visuals in appealing manner.

Poignant domestic drama ensues as Joseph, portrayed with commanding presence and well-conceived masculine frailty by baritone Davóne Tines, attempts to come to terms with Mary’s pregnancy through the words of Gospel of James and Martin Luther, set with keen dramatic sense by Adams, well translated into stage action by the Met production, combining the talents of James Ortiz’s puppet design and Marjani Forté-Saunders choreography. The sequence goes zenith with Shake the Heavens from Haggai – a setting true to its lines, sung with remarkable fortitude by Tines and the chorus, propelled by the orchestra under Alsop.

A lyrical trio rendition of Castellanos ensues, providing meditative interludes before the staggering full-ensemble finale, The Christmas Star, where settings of Gabriela Mistral and Hildegard von Bingen come together into one heated allegory of childbirth, again marvelously captured into onstage and pit theatre.

The conclusion of the first part of El Niño. © Evan Zimmerman / Met Opera

The second part is a darker affair. Painted with poignantly pared-down textures of Pues mi dios ha nacido for mezzo-soprano, chorus and a transparent orchestral fabric of solo winds, harp and divisi strings echoing the musings of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz in apt contrast to the large-scale vistas of the first part opening. Given in refined reading, the meditative opener sets the stage for flight into Egypt and the Massacre of the Innocents, juxtaposed with a blissful setting of the Gift of the Magi.

Appearing as ego-driven military dictator with cocaine-boost paranoia, Tines’s Herod draws parallels between oppressive governments of the past and the present, as he seeks to find and destroy the newborn Redeemer. In Woe unto them that call evil good from Isaiah, Adams draws hair-raising sonorities from baritone voice, chorus and orchestra, their menacing potential unleashed in full measure by Alsop and Blain-Cruz.

Appearing between two of El Niño’s most abhorrent dramatic twists, Adams sets out to write one of the biggest strokes of genius in the entire score – that is to say the hovering, dream-like baritone number Dawn Air, based on Vicente Huidobro’s creationist/surrealist text, beautifully brought to its sounding raiment at the Met.

Once the dream fades, soprano, chorus and orchestra plunge into the very heart of darkness in vehemently violent triptych of And he slew all the children, Memorial de Tlatelolco and In the day of the great slaughter, where Biblical sources and accounts of 1968 Mexican military massacre merge into shocking tableaux. Rendered with the most powerful tools of music theatre, both the stage production and Adams’s scoring left their profound mark on the collective psyche of the audience.

Jesus and the dragons. © Evan Zimmerman / Met Opera

However, the there is a notable shift in mood and texture, as El Niño proceeds towards its almost pastoral closing scenes, depicting the Holy Family on their refugee quest into Egypt. Told through the words of Sor Juana, the Gospel of Pseudo-Matthew and Castellanos. Here, the music adopts more playfully narrative tone, reflected by brightly-colored stage images. Puppet mastery comes to fore in Jesus and the Dragons, where the three mighty beasts, impersonated in the orchestra by gnarly low reeds and trombones, submit themselves to the infant Jesus, resolving into gentle acts of worship.

Concluding El Niño, the solo voices and reduced orchestra, joined by children’s chorus, deliver one of the most miraculously beautiful musical numbers in the oratorio, an airy fantasy, where Jesus commands a palm tree to provide nourishment to his parents and their company, encapsulating the very essence of divinity in the language of a seemingly simple fairy tale. Solo voices and orchestral instruments fade out one by one, leaving only children’s voices and solo guitar to render the final fourteen measures of soft, spell-like reiterations of the very last words of the libretto, landing on “poesía”.     

A benchmark production for one of the founding stones of contemporary oratorio literature, the Met production presents us with an El Niño to remember. Beautifully sung and played under Alsop, the sounding fabric mounts to compelling theater alternative to concertante productions, whereas the staging pairs the music with truly stellar imagery, going hand in hand with Adams’s game-changing score.

The Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and Chorus

Marin Alsop, conductor

Julia Bullock, soprano

Danela Mack, mezzo-soprano

Davóne Tines, baritone

Key’mon W. Murrah, countertenor

Siman Chung, countertenor

Eric Jurenas, countertenor

John Adams: El Niño (1999-2000) – Nativity oratorio for soloists, chorus, children’s chorus and orchestra. Libretto based on original sources, arranged by Peter Sellars and John Adams

Lileana Blain-Cruz, production

Adam Rigg, set designer

Montana Levi Blanco, costume designer

Yi Zhao, lighting designer

Hannah Wasileski, projection designer

Mark Grey, sound designer

James Ortiz, puppet designer

Marjani Forté-Saunders, choreographer

The Metropolitan Opera House, New York, NY

Wednesday 1 May 2024, 7.30 pm

© Jari Kallio

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