A ‘Rusalka’ for Everybody

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Photo by Mark Frohna

Dancer Nekea Leon in 'Rusalka'

Dancer Nekea Leon in 'Rusalka'

To put it simply, Milwaukee Opera Theatre’s mission under artistic director Jill Anna Ponasik has been to make opera of the highest-quality accessible to everybody. In the art form of contemporary dance, the same mission holds true for Danceworks Performance MKE, now under the dual artistic direction of Christal Wagner and Gina Laurenzi.  

The two companies’ collaborative performance of Antonín Dvorak’s 1900 opera Rusalka, in a brave and highly entertaining 75-minute adaption by Milwaukee writer/actor/comedian Jason Powell, is a stellar example. The show runs through Sunday, Feb. 23, at the intimate Danceworks Studio Theatre at 1661 N. Water Street. It’s a further development of these collaborators’ successful 2023 staging. 

Music director and piano accompanist Ruben Piirainen, partnered by harpist Erin Brooker-Miller, serenaded us with quiet music as we waited for the show to start. Three small trees, quietly lighted, their branches stripped of leaves, stood in the background. A simple swing hung by ropes from the ceiling. A small pile of rocks rested on the floor. 

Virtuosic Opening 

Grand piano and harp proved to be just the right accompaniment for this cozy theater space. Dancers Elisabeth Roskopf and Cuauhtli Ramirez Castro hurtled into the space for a virtuosic opening dance. As spirit creatures, they seemed fly in acrobatic lifts. They took possession of the space, climbed the wall, and curled up on the rocks. Soon other dancing sprites played by Ashley Ray Garcia, Jessica Lueck, Greta Jenkins and Zoe Glise made the place their home, and a radiant trio of gowned nymphs arrived to sing their excitement. Tabatha Steege, Erin Sura, and Brennan Martinez were the delightful singers. They know this music inside out. It seemed their natural language.  

It made no difference that the lyrics were in Czech. There was no question we were in a magic world that had its own language. It was just a joy to be so close to these athletic creatures dancing everywhere while three women sang sublimely. 

Lunar Narrator 

The Moon arrived, all in white, speaking directly to us in English. Played by the adaptor Powell, he welcomed us and told us all we’d need to know about the setting, characters, and story. He introduced the central character, the nymph Rusalka, and made the swing his stage home. The moon, we all know, swings across the heavens. 

It didn’t take long to grasp the nature of his adaptation. He’d preserved the musical highlights—the to-die-for arias, major duets and trios were sung in their original language. These were intercut with spoken dialogue by the characters and amusing narrations by the Moon, all in English, to keep the story clear. 

I don’t believe this would have worked without the dancers. It would have been too much like a recital. Whether in the woods or, later, in the prince’s court, the dancers were constantly present and dancing in different groupings and partnerships, always dynamically, with lots of emotional impact. I really don’t know how Wagner came up with the choreography. She told me this was a rethinking of the dance she’d made two years ago, and much of it was new. She’s thought about it long and hard, I’m sure. These six dancers performed virtually non-stop, not as background but with presence and impact equal to the singers. 

Tragic Fairy Tale 

The romantic story is a tragic fairy tale. It ends in death and loss. But this production made it fun.  The skill of the singer/actors and their musical accompanists was deeply pleasing, and even at the darkest moments in the story, some of the city’s best dancers were there onstage, so fully alive that it lifted my heart. 

Speaking of hearts, the heart of the story, Rusalka, was played with complete mastery by Saira Frank. I’d think she’d reached her peak vocally in terms of range and power, and then she’d goes further, and then further than that. The character is a water sprite who begs a witch to make her human when she falls in love with a human prince. He’s beautifully sung and played by MOT veteran Tim Rebers. The prince falls in love with her in human form, but soon has a fling on the side which send Rusalka back to the swamp. She learns from the witch that she has to stab the prince to death if she wants to return to her original life form. When she tells the prince the truth, he lets her know in a quiet, tender-voiced song, that he’s willing to die for her. 

They sing. Rusalka stabs her beloved. Ramirez Castro and Roskopf dance behind them.