If Onyx can do opera, it can do anything
The Onyx Theatre, which used to be perhaps the most active single-stage playhouse in town, has been unusually quiet lately. At one time, it was difficult for the most passionate buffs among us to keep track of which show was playing when, and at what time, since multiple productions were the norm.
That seems to have changed with the recent departure of the organization’s artistic director. There are occasional one- to three-night bookings of performers, but little else.
Two bits of good news. First, the Onyx is on the lookout for an artistic director. Hopefully, this will result in the place getting back its customary full, varied season of legitimate dramas and comedies. Second, I checked out two of the limited booking shows last weekend and found both enormously entertaining.
A new local group that calls itself Sin City Opera offered a light-hearted version of Emmanuel Chabrier 1879 French “An Incomplete Education” (with a modern, English update by Skip Galla). Two young lovers have been educated in, it seems, all important matters. As a tutor argues, in Gilbert and Sullivan patter, “(I’ve taught you) dramatics/mathematics/philosophy/biology/psychology/zoology/geography/pathology!” Point being, what more do you need to learn? But the confused newlyweds don’t know what to do with each other now that they are alone and close. They will, of course, figure it out.
Interesting contrast here, though: Under Galla’s direction, all three performers (David Casey, Marisa Johnson and Jonathan Napier-Morales) demonstrate little acting ability. But the moment they begin to sing, they tone down the ham and become flesh-and-blood characters. I wound up enjoying their personalities as well as their voices. But I hope Sin City takes note: Gone are the days when opera singers could get by strictly on their voices.
But I came away thinking, if the Onyx can do opera, then it could do just about anything.
On Sunday afternoon, female impersonator David de Alba – who, incredibly, does his own singing – took a step back in time with a look at San Francisco’s now defunct Finocchio Club (which opened in the 1930s). It was an emotional evening, with de Alba reminiscing, with photos, video clips and song, the days when the club was the one major place impersonators could go and be valued and be rid of that “rigid Eastern morality.”
De Alba never ceased to amaze me with his vocals, but his act clearly needs cleaning up. His between-song patter wanders mercilessly, and his jokes always seem to be on the verge of a punch line that doesn’t quite land. And his video clips are in such bad shape, it’s difficult to know what they’re supposed to be saying.
But I forgave all when, in the end, he laid down on the stage floor and sang “Smile.” When he poured out, “Smile when your heart is breaking,” I felt this was a man who understood heartache as well as joy. He taught me what that song is all about.
Anthony Del Valle can be reached at
vegastheaterchat@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.
