Even before it premiered at Santa Fe Opera, Mason Bates’ (R)evolution of Steve Jobs had runs lined up at Seattle Opera and San Francisco Opera. At opening night on Saturday, representatives from those companies were surely congratulating themselves on that decision. This new opera is a crowd-pleaser. I don’t write that just because of the thunderous reception it received. (Not only on opening night – Santa Fe locals who had seen the final dress rehearsal spontaneously recommended the opera to me, without knowing about my interest in opera in general.) It is an opera that seems expressly composed to appeal to the Broadway-going public, with an easy-to-listen-to score, a 90-minute run time, lots of jokes in the libretto, a sprinkling of bathos, and high production values.
Bates’ music, energetically conducted by Michael Christie, is an unstinting parade of rhythms. The beats and melodies continue from one scene to the next, with few pauses for applause. The score draws on electronics, acoustic guitar, and prayer bowls, as well as more typical-for-opera instruments. The overall sound is slick and sometimes jazzy, with plenty of drive. It’s clear that Bates is more comfortable writing for instruments and ensembles than for solo voices: the arias seemed well suited to the voices but uninspired. (Jobs’ catchy product launch announcement, with its change from long legato lines into short, punched words, was a memorable exception.)
Mark Campbell’s libretto is full of smart details but struggles to establish a compelling dramatic arc. The opera jumps around in time, a device that makes the action more interesting (though it can be difficult to remember what year we’re in without sneaking a glance at the scene list in the program). But for all the “(r)evolution” in the title, Jobs’ path through the opera is predictable. Professionally, he goes from garage rebel to corporate multimillionaire. Personally, his long-suffering wife Laurene forces him to acknowledge his cancer and his need for help. (I think we’re supposed to assume this acceptance of weakness makes him a nicer person, but we don’t see that.) Jobs clashes with most of the people around him, but each of those conflicts gets only a superficial treatment. Edward Parks sang the marathon role (Jobs is in every scene) in a smooth, unflagging baritone.
The end takes a bizarre turn: Laurene urges the audience to “look up” and “look out” rather than being glued to the phones her husband popularized. I would happily listen to Sasha Cooke’s rich mezzo voice on any subject, but this one doesn’t fit the themes of the rest of the opera. Jobs’ struggles emphasize the importance of human connection, but not technology as a potential barrier to that connection. And Laurene is such an underdeveloped character that it’s hard to imagine why she feels a pressing need to lecture us.