On February 21 and 22, Light Opera of New Jersey presents the delightful operetta “Die Fledermaus” by Johann Strauss II in Basking Ridge. The operetta, which first debuted in 1874, will be performed in English (so you can get the jokes), despite keeping the German-language title. That’s often the case with this operetta, since it’s known best as “Fledermaus,” and it feels really weird to call it “The Bat.” (And by “Bat” I mean the flying mammal, not a baseball bat. And no, this isn’t some vampire comedy either. But you’ll figure that out when I get to the plot-telling below.)
You may have noticed that I called this an operetta, rather than an opera. As you might guess from the name, operetta is a light form of opera – light in terms of the music and the subject matter. (So no, there are no tragic operettas, nor do they come with ominous-sounding leitmotifs.) They often come with some spoken dialogue, and include catchy songs and dances. Perhaps the most well-known operettas today are the works of Gilbert and Sullivan (such as “H.M.S. Pinafore” and “The Pirates of Penzance”), but there are a number of others from composers such as Johann Strauss, Jacques Offenbach, and Franz Lehar.
It’s hard to really pinpoint when operettas first developed, but they really flourished from the mid-1850s through the early 1900s. In some ways, operettas can be considered the forerunners to the 20th century musical theatre comedies. Operettas definitely influenced the development of music theatre, and both existed side-by-side, influencing each other, until musicals really took over in the 1930s or so.
Operettas are characterized by crazy plots – often with many mistaken identities – witty librettos, dialogue, dancing, and songs. Oh, and they’re a lot of fun, too. In this country, you’ll often find that operettas written in other languages are translated into English (as is the case with LONJ’s “Die Fledermaus”), which you don’t normally get with operas. This really allows the audience to “get” all the fun as it happens, rather than the misplaced audience laughter that often happens in comic operas when the audience reads the joke on the supertitles either before or a bit after the joke is sung on stage.
In speaking with William (Bill) Corson, LONJ’s co-founder and executive producer, and his wife Lauran Fulton Corson, co-founder and artistic director, their “Fledermaus” audience is definitely in for a night of great fun and terrific music. They are using the Metropolitan Opera’s lyrics for this production, which are often considered one of the funniest versions out there.
“Fledermaus” is being directed by Reegan McKenzie, who the Corsons tell me “really gets it” in terms of the genre’s stage action. Opera fans may be very familiar with the old “park and bark” mode, where the singer just plants themselves in a spot onstage and sings without moving much. But you won’t get that here – the Corsons described McKenzie’s style as more “active stageography.” (Nope, that’s not a usual theatre term, but one she’s coined to describe a style that’s more than just staging work. While it’s not overt enough to strike the audience as actual dance choreography, it will have tons of little steps and movements incorporated throughout, making this a much more active staging than most audiences get to see.)
And not to be outdone on the music side, the musical direction is led by the masterful Jason Tramm, a conductor well-known to New Jersey music audiences and beyond. And as you might guess for an operetta being done in English with a heavy emphasis on humorous dialogue, the singers are accomplished actors, as well as great vocalists. And they’ve also engaged several actors for some of the speaking parts, including a Shakespearean actor, Hank Barre, as Frosch – performing in his first operetta!
The Corsons also emphasized to me how important the ensemble is to them and they take great pride in the role of sound in the works they mount for LONJ. And really, there’s no better way to my heart than to hear that there’s an emphasis on quality of sound not only from the soloists, bur from the ensemble as well.
In terms of musical numbers, there are two songs I would especially want you to listen for, both in Act 2. First is Price Orlofsky’s aria “I love to invite my friends” ("Ich lade gern mir Gäste ein” in the original German). The role of Prince Orlofsky is traditionally sung by a female mezzo-soprano, which is what we call a “pants part” or “trouser role.” It’s something that often shows up in 18th and 19th century operas, where a lower-voiced female takes the part of a character that is usually an adolescent or young man, and usually wears trousers or pants (as you might expect). There are a bunch of these roles in opera, but I just love this particular aria here. In case you think that because operettas have light music that the singing is easy, you’re in for a surprise – there are some amazing vocal fireworks in store here. (I first fell in love with that aria in the mid-1990s when Jennifer Larmore included it on her “Call Me Mister” CD – a disc entirely of trouser arias!)
But not to be outdone, later in Act 2, we have the Czardas (also called “Sounds of my homeland” or “Klänge der Heimat"), which is sung by Rosalinda, in disguise as a Hungarian woman. It’s such a great piece of music and you may recognize it when you hear it, since it’s often included in by sopranos in recital.
Ok, I’ve promised you a crazy plot, so I guess I’d better get to explaining it!
The Plot
Before I begin, let me remind you that this a farcical operatic comedy. The telling of the plot is also a bit complex, with lots of mistaken identities and ensuing hilarity (or as my husband says, pretty much the plot of every late 18th through 19th century comic opera plot ever), but you don’t need to fully grasp all the details to enjoy the music and the fun. So suspend your disbelief over the plot twists and turns, don’t worry to much about the details, and just enjoy…
Act 1 takes place in the Viennese apartment of Gabriel von Eisenstein. He has been sentenced to eight days in prison partly for insulting a government official, but also partly because his attorney, Dr. Blind, is pretty incompetent. Eisenstein’s maid, Adele, receives a forged letter (supposedly from her sister who is in the ballet company), but was actually written by Dr. Falke, a notary, inviting her to attend Prince Orlofsky’s ball. Adele pretends that the letter actually says that her aunt is very sick, and she asks Rosalinda (Eisenstein’s wife) if she can take the night off. Dr. Falke (Eisenstein’s friend, the notary who wrote to Adele) shows up and invites Eisenstein to the ball. Falke and Eisenstein recall a practical joke that Eisenstein played on Falke a few years ago, for which Falke intends to seek a little light-hearted revenge. Eisenstein says goodbye to Adele and Rosalinda, pretending that he’s going to jail for his sentence. But in actuality, he’s postponing jail for a day to go have fun at the ball. (I’d love to see him tell a judge that excuse: “Well, your honor, I WAS planning on going to jail like I was supposed to, but really I wanted to attend this fancy prince’s party first. That was a good decision, right?”)
After Eisenstein leaves, his wife is visited by her former lover (the singing teacher Alfred), who serenades her. The prison governor shows up to the house, intending to take Eisenstein to jail, but finds Alfred instead. So as not to compromise Rosalinda, Alfred pretends to be Eisenstein and goes off to jail with Frank. (Now THAT’S devotion right there. Or stupidity. One of those.)
Act 2 takes place at Prince Orlofsky’s house, where we learn that Falke is using the ball to get that light-hearted revenge on Eisenstein (with Orlofsky’s permission). What’s the revenge for, you ask? Well, it’s because a while ago, Eisenstein and Falke attended a costume party and Eistenstein left a very drunk Falke, dressed as a bat, in the center of town, which made him a laughing stock. For revenge here, Falke has invited Frank (the prison governor), Adele, and Rosalinda to come to the ball in disguise. And if you know anything about these kinds of opera plots, you know EXACTLY where we’re heading…
The ball kicks off, and we’re treated to that great “I love to invite my friends” aria from Orlofsky. Everybody is there, although most of our main characters are pretending to be other people, and all are having a great time. Rosalinda is pretending to be Hungarian, and Eisenstein tries to seduce her, not realizing that she is his wife. (Awkward!) Rosalinda manages to pilfer a valuable watch from her husband’s pocket, to be used later as evidence.
Act 3 takes place in the prison offices of Frank the next morning, where we’ll have more confusion before we finally set everything to rights. And yes, Alfred is still in the jail, pretending to be Eisenstein, and takes the opportunity to sing arias to irritate the other prisoners.
Adele wants to be an actress, so she shows up to the prison to ask Frank to be her sponsor – she met him at the ball, when he was pretending to be some wealthy patron. Alfred asks Dr. Blind to come get him released, but then Eisenstein enters and says he’s come to serve his sentence. But Eisenstein is surprised to learn that his cell is occupied by someone who was with Rosalinda last night at the house, singing love songs to her, and who kissed her before being taken to jail.
And we’re not done with the mistaken identities yet! Eisenstein disguises himself as Blind to confront Alfred. Eisenstein gets all righteously indignant, thinking that Rosalinda has cheated on him with Alfred. But then Rosalinda shows up with that watch she took last night, and Eisenstein realizes that the Hungarian woman he tried to seduce was really his wife. Oops.
Yeah, so then everyone pretty much shows up and explains that the whole thing was payback for the bat practical joke played on Falke a while back. Eisenstein finds this all very funny, and asks for Rosalinda’s forgiveness. She refuses at first, wanted to divorce him, but then Eisenstein tells her that his misbehavior last night was the result of champagne. Surprisingly, she accepts this reasoning and forgives him for everything. Orlofsky promises to finance Adele’s acting career, and everybody live happily ever after.
The Details
Light Opera of New Jersey performs “Die Fledermaus” by Johann Strauss II on Friday, February 21 and Saturday, February 22 at 8:00 p.m. at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, located at 140 South Finley Avenue in Basking Ridge. Tickets are $43/$48 for adults and $20 for students college-aged and younger.
