Ten scenes, ten decades, ten composers: With Complications in Sue, Opera Philadelphia takes extraordinary measures to chronicle an ordinary woman’s life. Set to a libretto by Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright Michael R Jackson, each reflecting a snapshot in the title character’s idiosyncratic march from birth to death, the company commissioned several of classical music’s leading composers to put their distinctive stamp on the series of vignettes. Would the project cohere, or any sort of unified musical language emerge? Was that even the point? In remarks before the premiere, General Director and President Anthony Roth Costanzo likened the experiment to an Exquisite Corpse, the Surrealist parlor game in which artists attempt to complete a story with no knowledge of what was written before.
In a compelling meta-theatrical way, the project imitated life itself: an unpredictable, ever-shifting and occasionally jarring journey. There was no true musical throughline, but the work of each composer seemed ideally calibrated to the section of the story assigned for them to tell. The decision to entrust the text solely to one author was clearly a smart one, as Jackson imbued each scene with a growing perspective on Sue’s life, how her perspective evolved from unhappy girlhood to glamorous middle age and a peaceful shuffling off of the mortal coil. The sleek physical production, co-directed by Raja Feather Kelly and Zack Winokur, aided in the narrative cohesion, with Krit Robinson’s compact sets bringing intimacy to the Academy of Music’s vast stage.
Jackson’s dramaturgy blossomed in a heightened sense of realism tinged with tongue-in-cheek absurdism. The music often met the mood splendidly – beginning with the first scene, composed by Errollyn Wallen, which found infant Sue welcomed to the world with a brassy, blues-tinged lullaby sung by Death. Missy Mazzoli supplied a fugal lament for Santa Claus, whose disillusionment is momentarily quenched by young Sue’s belief. Natalie Joachim, Opera Philadelphia’s Composer-in-Residence, provided a kaleidoscopic tour through thirtysomething Sue’s mind in the form of a television news broadcast. A moving moment composed by Kamala Sankaram found septuagenarian Sue locked in a mournful duet with a memory of her ten-year-old self, beautifully reflecting how much, and how little, a person can be changed by life.
Opera Philadelphia’s production benefited from an exceedingly well-curated cast, conducted by Caren Levine and anchored by the actor and cabaret performer Justin Vivian Bond as Sue. Bond’s striking, distinctive presence easily communicated Sue’s inner life, despite the role being largely wordless for most of the opera. Costumes designed specifically for Bond by JW Anderson added their own narrative perspective, from baby-doll dresses in Sue’s youth to elegant couture in her days as a mature woman. Using a microphone for spoken dialogue, Bond also deserved credit on opening night for gamely rolling with an extended incidence of audio feedback. (The overall sound design, by Chris Sannino, was subtle and unintrusive.)
A series of fine singers rounded out the company, with Kiera Duffy lending her bright, fruity soprano to Sue’s inner monologue and tenor Nicky Spence executing a high-wire mad scene as Sue’s paranoid neighbor, who increasingly believes that social media and artificial intelligence have eroded his brain. (Alastair Coleman provided the music for that section.) Bass-baritone Nicholas Newton was simultaneously imposing and sympathetic as Sue’s ex-husband, who leaves a haunting and pathetic voicemail for her set to the music of Dan Schlosberg. Mezzo-soprano Rehanna Thelwell walked her track on opening night, which included playing Death in the first and last scenes, while the plush-voiced Imara Miles sang the roles from an onstage box.
A brief, improvisatory diversion in which Bond addressed the audience as herself seemed self-indulgent and unnecessary, although her righteous excoriation of political turmoil in the United States drew understandable cheers from the crowd. Despite the worthwhile message, it seemed like a stunt and a distraction. The audience came to meet Sue, and through the fine work of those assembled, we left really knowing her.
