Above: the members of C4
~ Author: Lili Tobias
If you don’t yet have plans this evening (June 15, 2024) you should go listen to C4, the Choral Composer/Conductor Collective, perform a new opera, Arthur Rimbaud: This Fugitive Soul. (And if you already have plans, then you should cancel them and go to this concert instead!)
I attended the Friday evening performance of the opera in a semi-staged production about the life of 19th-century French poet, Arthur Rimbaud. Rimbaud led a tumultuous life pursuing both poetry and extensive travel, and the opera was equally as chaotic in the best way possible. Guest soloist, baritone Muir Ingliss, starred as Rimbaud.
This production was an incredible feat of organization on the part of all the choir members and the other participating musicians. C4 is a collective (each of the singers is also a conductor, composer, or both!), and the opera reflected the choir’s impressive level of teamwork. The music in the opera was a collaborative effort in itself. Inspired by Steven Gerber’s 1985 work, Une Saison en Enfer, which is a set of four choruses based on Rimbaud’s prose poem of the same name, five other composers contributed works of their own to flesh out the narrative. The music was surprisingly cohesive—while each section tended to vary in terms of choral texture and staging, the tonal language was quite similar throughout.
The text came from a variety of sources as well: selections of Rimbaud’s own poetry were interspersed with text from letters, snippets of critics’ reviews, and narration. Most unusual though were the AI-generated images, derived from the text itself, that were projected behind the singers. I got a chance to speak with C4 member Brian Mountford, who was in charge of the images: The main impetus for including the AI art was to reflect the surreal nature of the music and text (in the style of French painter Odilon Redon, a contemporary of Rimbaud). The images are generated in real time, which means that whatever I saw last night will be completely different on the second this evening!
I was pleased to hear the bright and piercing strain of a melodica in the very first section of the opera (Prelude, composed by Mario C. Gullo). It was performed by C4 member Perry Townsend, who specifically wanted to perform on melodica more! While often regarded as a toy, the melodica is actually a beautiful and sophisticated instrument, and I’m glad to see the repertoire expanding. However, I think it would be worthwhile to invest in a slightly better quality instrument for future performances, as this would provide a much clearer tone and far more varied timbre between registers.
Overall though, I thought that the orchestration (provided by a piano, violin, and cello, in addition to the melodica) was very well balanced with the singers. The sparse nature of these accompanying instruments was perfect! Really, the choir on its own provided an exceptionally dense and varied body of sound, and any more participation from the rest of the instruments would have been excessive.
Muir Ingliss (above, rehearsal photo), as Rimbaud, entered the stage in the second section of the opera (Introduction, by Bettina Sheppard). He has a beautiful voice and a commanding stage presence and was such a joy to listen to! As this was primarily a choral opera, I was impressed to see how well Ingliss navigated the acting portion of the production, since he was the only character and therefore didn’t have anyone to interact with on stage. Ingliss let me know that while the acting could be challenging at times, it wasn’t actually all that different from acting alongside others. In general, he focused on maintaining a consistent path of thought throughout the opera in order to embody the character of Rimbaud.
Above: rehearsal photo
The majority of the opera is choir-centric, and while I absolutely loved the choral music, I did feel like I spent a lot of time waiting for Rimbaud to sing again (although perhaps this is reminiscent of the uncertain whereabouts and occasional sightings of the poet!). The next major portion of the opera that features Rimbaud is Steven Gerber’s Une Saison en Enfer. The choir filed off stage and went to stand on a set of steps behind the audience, leaving Ingliss on stage, alone. The music here was recitative-like in nature, with just the piano chiming in to repeat or provide pitches in brief moments of silence. Ingliss sang with a warm, compelling tone, the choir echoing his words from afar.
This section of the opera, which is full of Rimbaud’s own dreamlike imagery, was Ingliss’s favorite part to sing. Here’s a snippet of an English translation of the poetry: “General, if there’s an old cannon left on your ruined ramparts, bombard us with clods of dried-up earth. Fire on the windows of splendid shops! Into the salons! Make the city swallow its own dust. Turn the gargoyles to rust. Fill the boudoirs with powder of burning rubies….” Really captivating stuff!''
The opera ended in a truly remarkable manner (and this is a spoiler alert—maybe skip this paragraph if you’re planning on attending the show tonight!). The choir rose up in an intense harmony, which was then prolonged by a melodica solo. Then finally, out of the silence, came the disembodied voice of Rimbaud. But from where? The audience all craned their necks to spot the source of the obscured sound, and it turned out that Ingliss had made his way up to the balcony of the church for the final refrain.
All in all, this was one of the most enthralling operas I’ve ever seen. From the impressive skill of all the musicians to the intense logistics of the production, it was certainly a night to remember!
~ Lili Tobias