Lori Laitman: The Scarlet Letter
Naxos

The majority of composer Lori Laitman's releases are art song collections, with many of their contents concise, two- to three-minute pieces. That makes her opera treatment of Nathaniel Hawthorne's 1850 novel The Scarlet Letter an especially fascinating proposition, not only for the work itself but for showing how she adapted her writing approach to the expansiveness of the opera form. Written in 2008, revised in 2016, and nudging just past 110 minutes, the two-act work artfully distills all of the signature qualities of her songwriting artistry into a powerful operatic tapestry. The lyrical and tonal qualities central to her writing are in abundant supply, which enhances the work's accessibility and facilitates the listener's rapid immersion into its world. Much as they do in her art songs, melodies soar and match the complex psychological states of the characters. Were The Scarlet Letter set in a language unfamiliar to the listener, the emotional expression captured in the writing would still convey the essence of the scene with clarity, and though the story unfolds in mid-1600s Boston, its easily relatable emotional universe never feels remote.

In his superb adaptation, librettist David Mason hews to the familiar storyline set in the puritanical milieu of seventeenth-century New England. The drama centres on the young seamstress Hester Prynne, the minister Arthur Dimmesdale, and the doctor Roger Chillingworth. A crowd has gathered to gawk at Prynne, who has been charged with adultery and forced to wear the scarlet letter ‘A' to expose her crime to the world. As she stands on a raised platform clutching her infant daughter Pearl, her long-lost husband arrives and recognizes her. Now going by the name Chillingworth, the man commits himself to discovering the identity of the child's father, with his first concerted attempt to wrest the information from Prynne in her prison cell unsuccessful. Several years pass and with Chillingworth now rooming with Dimmesdale, who unbeknownst to the doctor and the public is the child's father, the doctor makes another fruitless attempt to force from Prynne her lover's name. Eventually she and Dimmesdale reunite and plan their escape, but the minister, wracked with guilt, publicly confesses at an Election Day rally, exposes a branded 'A' over his own heart, and promptly dies at the moment of confession. Laitman herself succinctly summarizes the moral dimension in play: “Though Hester is shamed for adultery, her steadfast strength of character reveals a true moral sense, while the weaknesses of both her lover and estranged husband ultimately yield their self-destruction.”

Conducted by Ari Pelto, Opera Colorado presented the professional world premiere of the work in May of 2016, and it's from those performances that this stellar live recording is derived. The double-CD set was met with considerable acclaim upon its release, with Fanfare Magazine, for example, naming it one of the top five CDs of 2018. Wholly inhabiting the central roles are soprano Laura Claycomb (Prynne), baritone Malcolm MacKenzie (Chillingworth), and tenor Dominic Armstrong (Dimmesdale). Laitman not only masterfully wrote the vocal parts with the singers' ranges in mind, she tailored some of the soprano writing to specifically complement Claycomb, including those moments where her voice soars to the stratosphere. In her writing, Laitman always starts with the text by allowing it to dictate the character of the music that will accompany it, and that principle applies here too. For every line of the libretto, the tone reflects the content of the text, such that despair, anger, desperation, and rapture receive their musical counterpart in the composer's expression. A passage in the opening scene illustrates the idea when Prynne responds to Chillingworth's angry demand “Speak, and give your child a father!” with the heartfelt entreaty “What father would you have her know? I shall not speak the secret name.” Similarly, in the third scene, the anguish of her “I beg you, speak for me” plea to Dimmesdale when the possibility arises of her child being taken from her is made palpable by the musical treatment.

Dispensing with a formal overture, the opera plunges into the story with a brooding, scene-setting intro featuring commentary by community figures. Even in its initial moments, Laitman's propensity for eloquent melodic material is evident, as is her ability to pair the singers with exquisitely orchestrated material. Intense drama ensues in the prison scene in the confrontation between a resolute Prynne and determined Chillingworth, after which a choral interlude effects a temporal leap seven years into the future. The woodwinds that dominate the opening of the second act's first scene amplify the pastoral quality of the forest setting and accentuate the way in which the natural meeting-place liberates Prynne and Dimmesdale to share their feelings. As Betsy Schwarm notes in the release booklet, the way in which the voices of Claycomb and Armstrong gradually culminate in harmonic union is handled brilliantly by Laitman. Though the singers' lines initially alternate separately, as the scene advances the distance between them diminishes until the voices gloriously intertwine in a rapturous duet (“The past is gone / We shall know joy again”).

Though each has a clearly formed personality, the characters aren't static. Prynne alternates between unyielding strength and gentle vulnerability, and Chillingworth isn't only a relentless interrogator but also a friend to Dimmesdale. The heavily conflicted latter similarly registers as an empathetic figure in his desire for absolution as the story nears its end (“Hester, I am a dying man / I should make haste to meet the truth”). In the case of this love triangle, it's clearly Prynne whose determination and resolve make her the most admirable figure, and it's tempting to draw comparisons between her and Saint Joan, even if only one dies. Laitman's creation sits comfortably within an operatic tradition that sees memorable characters entangled in difficult circumstances and in some cases rising above them. Consistent with that tradition, the aria by Prynne that concludes the first act's second scene (“More worthy than all sacrifice, sleep on, my Pearl, sleep on”) and the love duet in the second's opening scene are among those that would work gloriously as stand-alone concert pieces. As this meticulously crafted work reaches its end, it becomes obvious that Laitman has brought an equivalent degree of artistry to The Scarlet Letter as she does her art song projects.

October 2021