Great British

  • by Stephanie von Buchau
  • Tuesday September 26, 2006
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It's such a clich� to point out that choreographer Mark Morris is all about music — even before movement, drama, narrative — yet it's a clich� founded on truth. Usually, the unmusical have to take it on faith, or they gleefully recognize certain steps and gestures that fit the music like a "gummy hand shoe" (the hilarious German word for rubber glove). Yet Morris rarely "fits" movement to music literally; he's seldom that simplistic. Instead, his choreography helps us understand the music's structure and, more important, its expression. A Morris work almost always leaves the viewer feeling musically enriched.

In his latest evening-length show, King Arthur, a co-production with New York City Opera and English National Opera, where it premiered in June, Morris proves the contentions in the above paragraph by retaining Henry Purcell's music and jettisoning John Dryden's spoken text. There are any number of reasons for this seemingly drastic move — Dryden is, after all, one of England's greatest poets, just as Purcell is its greatest composer before Britten. Yet the text of King Arthur has nothing to do with "Camelot" as we know it, and doesn't make much literal dramatic sense, being the kind of allegorical, self-congratulatory nature poem popular in 17th-century England.

I haven't seen the work yet — the American premiere plays at UC Berkeley's Zellerbach Hall on Sept. 30, Oct. 3, Oct. 5-7 — but the London reviews typically ranged from The Times' "witty, whimsical, mesmerizing and meltingly beautiful" to The Telegraph's "a series of disconnected musical numbers with no underlying theme or coherence." Sounds to me like a typical response to Morris' work. The "semi-opera's" whimsical subtitle — The British Worthy — may give a clue to Morris' aim.

I've always wondered what that meant, and discarded what seemed like the piece's sillier emphasis on good ole British country (as opposed to upper-class) preoccupations like sex and booze. You know Morris isn't going to ignore them. His choreography is never crudely "sexy" like, say, Michael Smuin's, but it can be erotic. Anyone remember his frightening vampire evangelist in One Charming Night — coincidentally, also by Purcell? I'm looking forward to "a strenuous burst of lusty mass-lovemaking" and the "virtuosic dressing of a maypole" (said to be worth the price of admission).

Masqued men

When I heard Morris was going to mount King Arthur, I admit I flinched. Purcell (1659-1695) wrote four "semi-operas" — multimedia spectacles in which music was the last and least important component — during the final five years of his life. They consisted of lengthy spoken plays, dressed with dance, costumes, stage machinery and, incidentally, singing. None of the main characters in Dryden's King Arthur play — the King, his blind fianc�e Emmeline and the lustful Saxon King Oswald — sings a note. The music consists of a series of self-contained masques — usually one each to fit the five-act format, but in this case eight, influenced by the French operatic spectacles of Lully.

They include a procession and sacrifice for the war-like Saxons; an off-stage battle; an attempt to lure the Britons to their death; entertainment for Emmeline; restoration of Emmeline's sight; the bizarre "Frost" scene; Arthur's temptation by naked sirens; and Britannia's masque (with the work's most famous aria, "Fairest Isle"). A lot of this is sucking up to Charles II (who, in addition to being King, loved French music), but you can't give a genius like Purcell his head without reaping some glorious music in return. They may have head-scratching dramatic bases, but the individual musical pieces are exquisite, short and to the point, with none of that da capo prosing that drives anti-Baroquists nuts. From ridiculous to sublime, from raucous to elegant, song follows song, many in ensemble form — duets, trios, choruses. It's a feast of music — no wonder Morris chose it.

You could close your eyes, a la Balanchine, and just listen, but you also get a stage spectacle designed by longtime Morris collaborators Adrianne Lobel (sets), Isaac Mizrahi (costumes) and James F. Ingalls (lighting). Philharmonia Baroque and the UC Chamber Chorus, directed by Marika Kuzma, will be in the pit. ENO's Jane Glover conducts. The Mark Morris Dance Group shares the stage with stars of the London premiere: sopranos Gillian Keith, Elizabeth Watts, and Mhairi Lawson, tenor James Gilchrist, countertenor Iestyn David, and baritones William Berger and Andrew Foster-Williams.

The week-long engagement also includes educational and humanities events, "Sightlines" (pre-performance talks), a photographic exhibit, Mark Morris Dance Group at 25 (in Zellerbach's mezzanine lobby) and a symposium, King Arthur: A Round Table Discussion: Chaucer, Purcell, Dryden and Morris (Oct. 6 at Hertz Hall). I suspect Morris would enjoy the "Round Table" pun even more than being linked with such immortals as Chaucer and Purcell.

Tickets ($42, $62, $94, and for Sept. 30, $110) are available through the Cal Performances Ticket Office at Zellerbach Hall; at (510) 642-9988; at www.calperfs.berkeley.edu; and at the door.