"Porgy and Bess' on Broadway

The Broadway production of Porgy and Bess is shocking. It's an intentional departure from what's been seen in the work's previous 75 years. Most shocking thing of all: I, an opera fan and a traditionalist, loved it.

Diane Paulus, its director, proclaimed her intent to re-interpret the piece to "introduce the work to the next generation of theatergoers... excavating and shaping and modernizing the story." The creative team changed the plot and simplified the score "to make the work more appealing to a contemporary audience." In response, Stephen Sondheim wrote a letter to the New York Times, objecting to the proposition that the original was a flawed work that needs to be improved.

What is the "correct" Porgy and Bess, anyway? Many disparate interpretations have been offered since 1935. Is it an opera or a Broadway musical? Should it have spoken lines or should it be sung-through, like an opera? Does it call for spectacle or intimacy?

People I've talked with who knew Gershwin (such as Todd Duncan and Kitty Carlisle) say that he was a mercurial and ambitious man. He was experimental and he dreamed big. With Porgy he wanted to create something more serious than his customary Broadway musicals. He spoke of an unconventional "folk opera" that incorporated jazz and spirituals. At the same time, he wanted a popular hit.

A failure at first

No single approach is sacrosanct. Gershwin wrote a four-hour score, but he himself made cuts before the work's premiere. Still, it ran more than three hours. Gershwin's executors cut it further after his death in 1937.

The original 1935 production of Porgy and Bess, with a 44-man orchestra and a chorus of 32, closed in the red. A revival seven years later replaced the sung recitatives with spoken lines; the orchestra and chorus were smaller; and cuts shortened the piece. Thus Porgy and Bess became viewed as more of a Broadway show than an opera. Only in recent years has it been staged with massive forces at the Met and other opera houses.

The 1942 version was commercially more successful than the original but not necessarily an artistic improvement. Three factors contributed to its longer run: The composer had died at age 38, and a grief-stricken public wanted to honor his memory; the songs had become familiar on radio and recordings; and with reduced personnel, the show simply cost less to keep running.

Voices that float

The current production's creative team talked as if they were rescuing Porgy from an unpalatable past, which is irritating. So is the title, The Gershwins' Porgy and Bess. Were they afraid some might think it was Elton John's?

Nevertheless, the performers look and sound more convincing than any I've seen. Norm Lewis (Porgy) and Audra McDonald (Bess) possess the phenomenal ability to croon, belt and (in her case) float on high while projecting the words clearly, which operatic casts usually cannot. Lewis, with his mellow-voice, is the most appealing Porgy you could imagine, while McDonald's dazzling voice combines intimacy with splendor.

David Alan Grier is a tempting Sportin' Life, full of flash, and Phillip Boykin is a powerful Crown. Joshua Henry, so impressive last year in The Scottsboro Boys, is a sympathetic Jake. All in the cast are good actors, capable of projecting strong personalities.

Although their numbers are fewer than in the first Broadway cast, and in opera houses, the chorus and orchestra have strong impact. The storm scene, in particular, wields overwhelming sonic power. (The orchestra of 22 players is far larger than today's standards, although it's only half of what was in the pit in 1935.)

Jazzier than George?

Some of the musical tinkering was bothersome. Norm Lewis was given different notes to sing in "I Got Plenty o' Nuthin," and the song slithers uncomfortably back and forth between different keys. (The cast was told that this gimmick would make the score jazzier, as if someone could teach jazz to George Gershwin!) The simpler, straightforward version that Gershwin specified had more appeal.

Also, "My Man's Gone Now" is shifted to a lower key than normal, possibly to omit high notes that the soprano can't hit, or that might sound too "operatic." Consequently, the song loses its soaring power.

Suzi-Lori Parks has written some new script lines that improve audience comprehension. For example, Porgy now explains that he's been crippled since birth, and it makes his life lonely. Sportin' Life explains his presence in Catfish Row by saying that he's on the run from New Yorkers who are threatening his life. Previously, we used to wonder what a street-smart guy was doing in South Carolina.

Best recordings

The recording of this production has immediacy and emotional resonance. The close-up miking puts the listener right in the midst of Catfish Row and enhances our involvement. Constantine Kitsopoulos conducted an orchestra that was enlarged to 26 pieces. The PS Classics packaging includes an unusually excellent booklet with many photos, essays and the text.

As thrilling as that sounds, many of the treasures in Porgy and Bess must be found elsewhere. A recent Sony CD conducted by Nicolas Harnoncourt is much more complete and employs an impressive chorus and a large orchestra. On the other hand, the singers seem to be at some distance from us, and their voices suffer a bit of reverberation. This muddies the crowd scenes, where we'd like more clarity in order to follow each character.

A 1993 Glyndebourne Festival production, conducted by Simon Rattle and directed by Trevor Nunn, is virtually complete and available from EMI. A happy medium is the 1977 RCA Victor CD with John DeMain conducting the Houston Grand Opera chorus and orchestra and a Broadway-oriented cast. If I had to choose just one recording of Porgy and Bess, this would be it.