Sequenza21/The Contemporary Classical Music Weekly

Atomic is no Klinghoffer, and far from another Nixon

After Sunday's performance of Dr. Atomic, my wife and I had dinner with three other composers who were at the show. All of us are in our early 40s or late 30s, and, with the exception of my wife, a civilian who likes opera, none of us would object to being called "postmodern" or even "postminimal" composers. We all enjoy other Johns Adams works. All 5 of us disliked Dr. Atomic.

While leaving the hall, I told my friend A, "That's the first time I've ever been disappointed by the San Francisco Opera." A replied, "Well, I saw St. Francois." I'd forgotten about Messiaen's gargantuan work, which I'd seen there as well. I said, "Well, at least there was a lot more in St. Francois to take away with you."

Earlier at intermission, B was furious. He hated the entire first act. A was digging it. I had real trouble with the heavy use of scientific jargon and papers for the libretto; in its distant humanity, the first scene really didn't work for me. But from Kitty Oppenheimer's bedroom aria, to Robert Oppenheimer's closing aria in the first act (both of which used poems for their texts), I was enthralled. (Except for the general's aria about his diet, which we all agreed was unnecessary).

But the second act? My wife hated the atomic bomb hanging over the baby's crib for half an hour. I hated the patchwork quilt aspect of it. None of us understood why Oppenheimer's Indian maid was a character; she seemed unnecessary. The staging was confusing; my wife and I had to stifle our laughter when the maid slowly crossed the stage singing her melody, while raising and lowering what looked like giant green feather dusters from our balcony seats. Binoculars revealed the "feather dusters" to actually be some kind of pine branches (although I read in Alex Ross's article after the fact that she was doing a corn dance). The whole timing of the second act, all four composers agreed, was terribly askew. I wondered why they couldn't present the different characters views simultaneously in a sextet, instead of stretching them out one by one. (For my money, the sextet at the end of Nixon in China is the greatest operatic sextet since Lulu, so Adams is certainly capable of delivering in that area).

We all agreed that the libretto was probably responsible for a lot of the problems. (Damn, why didn't Alice Goodman sign on to this project?) None of us liked Lucinda Childs' choreography. The abstract, geometric dances didn't mesh very well with the realistic motions of the actors. (The one dance I did like was when the dancers circled around Kitty in Act I as if they were 6 electrons dancing around a carbon nucleus.)

C hated the soprano's wobbly vibrato for Kitty Oppenheimer (although I wasn't bothered with it). Too bad Lorraine Hunt Leiberson didn't do the part, as originally planned.

After bitching about what didn't work, we came to a consensus on what we all liked: the bold blocks of brilliant color in the lighting design; the set design; Adams' orchestration. But that whole second act is a real impediment.

As I got on the BART for the train and plane ride back to San Diego, I thought of all the great operatic experiences I'd had with SFO. Rake's Progress, Lulu, The Mother of Us All, Grande Macabre, about 50% of St. Francois. It was a nice streak while it lasted.

posted by Christian Hertzog 10/11/2005