There is a superb revival of Lillian Hellman’s play, The Little Foxes, at Manhattan Theatre Club, directed by Daniel Sullivan. Attending it twice gave me fresh thoughts about how opera singers and stage actors are different and alike.
The two leading female characters are the scheming and vindictive Regina Giddens and her wistfully tragic sister-in-law Birdie Hubbard. The star part is Regina, who lets her husband die when she withholds his heart medicine and then blackmails her two dreadful brothers who, in turn, intend to cheat her out of a lot of money. Regina may be our main focus, but the ideal actress as Birdie can sometimes steal the show when she gets the part just right, particularly in a wonderful monologue in the third act that shows Birdie to be, by turns, poignant and resilient.
If the story of The Little Foxes sounds operatic, it is. In 1949, Marc Blitzstein produced his opera, Regina. It appears occasionally, such as at Houston Grand Opera in 1980 with Maralin Niska and Elizabeth Carron as Regina, and there was a very fine straightforward staging at Bronx Opera in 2016.
When the play premiered in 1939, Tallulah Bankhead was (reportedly) a venomous Regina and Patricia Collinge a sympathetic Birdie. A great film version was made by William Wyler, who allowed his camera to go into tight close-ups of Bette Davis as Regina in a way that cinema can do better than theater. Collinge again played Birdie.
The play has had numerous revivals that are always major events. The current production is the best I’ve seen, with a strong group of men and two smaller female roles ideally cast and played. Two wonderful actresses, Laura Linney and Cynthia Nixon, are alternating in the roles of Regina and Birdie. The fact that each understands how the other character feels gives a texture and power to this production I have seldom seen in any play.
According to a program article, Linney was approached to play Regina. She knew that Nixon also dreamt of playing Regina and proposed that both actresses be engaged and switch roles from one performance to the next. It was a brilliant idea and, no doubt, would stimulate ticket sales. I am an M.T.C. subscriber and, last time I checked, they gave a discount if you purchase a ticket for an additional performance to see the cast that you didn't have on your subscription.
This casting gambit reminded me of one of my favorite songs, “The Story of Lucy and Jessie,” from Stephen Sondheim’s Follies, one of my very favorite musicals. In it, the wealthily married and bored former showgirl, Phyllis, lets loose with the story of “poor sad souls, itching to be switching roles, Lucy wants to do what Jessie does; Jessie wants to be what Lucy was.” Watch the original star of the 1971 production, Alexis Smith. The visuals may be blurry but they show the original staging and Smith’s charisma comes right through.
To give you a sense of the subtle changes that can occur even in the same production when two performers play the same role, watch Linney and then Nixon as Regina, both opposite Richard Thomas as her dying husband Horace. Notice how Thomas’ acting also changes when he interacts with a different Regina.
Now watch Linney and then Nixon as Birdie, with Francesca Carpanini as Alexandra, the daughter of Horace and Regina.
The Little Foxes led me to think about operas in which role switching is possible. Of course, in opera the most important thing is whether a role fits a singer’s voice. There are certain artists whose vocal range can accommodate two characters, though not always with equally good results.
Sometimes a singer changes from one role to another as her voice evolves. Two Strauss operas offer this prospect. In Der Rosenkavalier, a soprano might begin as Sophie and evolve to the Marschallin or perhaps even Octavian. In Elektra, the rare soprano might begin her career as Chrysothemis then graduate to the title role and ultimately become Klytemnestra, a character who can give Regina a run for her money when it comes to being evil.
Drawing from The Little Foxes example, I am interested in singers who go back and forth between two characters. Diana Damrau did an extraordinary job in playing Pamina and The Queen of the Night in the same run of performances of Die Zauberflöte at the Met, but that is not something most artists can or should attempt.
Grace Bumbry has thrillingly essayed both Aïda and Amneris. Here is some catnip for opera lovers as she sings both roles at the same time thanks to clever editing. Why play opposite another artist when you can play against yourself?
Violeta Urmana and Shirley Verrett also played Aïda and Amneris. Another opera that offers juicy opportunities is Berlioz’s Les Troyens, in which the right singer can sing both Cassandre and Didon. Jessye Norman and Verrett both did this at the Met. Jeannine Altmeyer sang both Sieglinde and Brünnhilde in Die Walküre — not on the same night, of course — but this is a rather daunting challenge and she was probably suited more to Sieglinde.
The opera that most offers this possibility is Don Giovanni. Many bass-baritones, including Bryn Terfel and Ferruccio Furlanetto, have gone back and forth between the title role and Leporello. I imagine Luca Pisaroni will do so as well. There are four lower-voiced male roles and I have sometimes seen a Masetto graduate to a Leporello or a Don. Similarly, some sopranos, including Carol Vaness and Barbara Frittoli, have sung both Donna Anna and Donna Elvira, the former lying higher and calling for more grit than the lyrical Elvira.
Some artists, such as Montserrat Caballé and Shirley Verrett, have sung both Norma and Adalgisa in Bellini’s opera. Caballé sang the title role opposite Marilyn Horne, Fiorenza Cossotto and Verrett. Caballé was Adalgisa with Joan Sutherland.
What opera contains two roles you think could be done by the same singer? And who is that singer?