It may have not been opera in the traditional sense. But then again, nothing that Opera Vista presents is conventional.

One could make the argument that Opera Vista's 2011 Festival concert opener had little, if anything at all, to do with the operatic genre. And one could possibly be right.

But doing so would be doing a disservice to the artistic accomplishments of the company's masterminds and collaborating friends. From thematic concept to execution, the concert took listeners on a deep emotional journey, reminiscing about the melancholic past while questioning whether "things" indeed get better with time.

Given then current international climate of political unrest and unforgiving natural disasters, the event adopted a larger meaning than intended.

Now in its fourth year, the Opera Vista Festival is dedicated to the pursuit and advancement of contemporary chamber opera. In that spirit, Saturday night's production included the professional premiere of 2010 Opera Vista Festival winner, Lembit Beecher's And Then I Remember, along with Arvo Pärt's Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten and Samuel Barber's Knoxville: Summer of 1915.

I will admit to being surprised and puzzled, at first, by the programming choices, struggling to find the thematic commonalities — something that I would expect from Viswa Subbaraman, Opera Vista's artistic director, a man who pays attention to details. But soon after the music started, the connection was obviously brilliant, academically, aesthetically and artistically, setting a musically historic context to synthesize Beecher's work.

Beecher's moving piece is based on the life of his Estonian grandmother, Taimi Lepassar. It traces her experiences in World War II, from the Russian occupation in 1940 through the Nazi-German invasion from 1941-1944, followed by Estonia's annexation to the Soviet Union in 1944.

But the work is less about historical fact, focusing more on the human impact of Lepassar's escape to Leipzig at the age of 27, seeing her husband for the last time on Jan. 21, 1945, her escape to America and beginning a life as a church organist with one dollar. She now lives in Providence, R. I.

"The piece gets to you," Subbaraman said. "It gets inside you."

The work juxtaposed voice recordings of Beecher's grandmother with live music, evoking laughter at times, chilling nostalgia and a sense of timelessness. Though there is only one character in the work, her displaced husband has a voice in the double bass.

"She always used to tell me stories and she is an amazing storyteller," Beecher noted. "Though at first she was apprehensive at my request to record her voice, often looking in contempt at the recorder placed off in a corner of the room, it took very little time for her to adjust and be herself. It was odd for her witness the first performance.

"Now that she is used to it, she often opens up and continues reminiscing and sharing her stories with anyone that approaches her."

Beecher labeled his work a documentary-oratorio, not an opera. The difference lies in its intention and production. Oratorios typically include operatic elements — chorus, soloists and orchestra — but they rarely interact theatrically. Opera Vista's production morphed the work into a multimedia and cross-artistic performance, intensifying the listener's experience with accompanying images projected on a large screen above the set and collaborating with Dancepaththeatre's founder and artistic director Sara Draper to weave choreography into the performance.

The composer, during the creation of the work, did not envision dance as part of finished composition. It was during an open question-and-answer period that an Opera Vista panelist suggested the possibility.

"It is through this open dialogue that composers learn something about themselves and their work," Subbaraman explained.

And it was the right decision. Draper's work had a tasteful narrative quality. Being in tune with the work's motifs, beautiful lines and fluid but sometimes angular and aggressive movements enhanced how the emotional content was conveyed.

And Then I Remember uses familiar tonal language at times, and challenges our ears at others. The menacing chorus, singing and articulating one of Estonia's epic stories, Kalevipoeg, echoes Lepasaar's struggles.

Soprano Cassandra Black as Taimi Lepassar had everything the role demanded: A soft-likeness, stunning voice and a convincing stage presence. She had the sensitivity and intuition to react appropriately and masterfully to the challenging musical and psychological demands of the work.

Left with repeating phrases still ringing in my thoughts — "All the dreams were broken," "Maybe there is no tomorrow," "Why did it happen this way" and "This has been a journey" — the concert opener had a satisfying, complete and paradigm-shifting conclusion.

It was a successful production, partly also because of the two preceding pieces.

Both Estonian composer Arvo Pärt's (born in 1935) and American lyricist Samuel Barber's (1910-1981) respective works look back at the times of yesteryear with sentimental nostalgia. They musically define Lepassar's journey while illustrating the identity of the composer.

The Cantus, written in typical Pärt's minimalist Tintinnabuli, meaning bell, pays homage to religious and mystical chants. Often based on a stepwise motion, the work's harmonious dissonances descend and grow from the transparent high tessitura (range) of the violins to rich sonorities of the low strings. Its conclusion demands silence and Subbaraman allowed the audience to enjoy the conclusion in peaceful contemplation.

I am slightly jaded by Barber's Knoxville: Summer of 1915, perhaps as a result of over-performance during my student years. Having only known the work in its original form, I was surprised that Opera Vista did not find the few additional players needed to present it as intended, for orchestra and soprano.

But shortly after the piece began, pianist Stephen Jones coloristic approach and soprano Elizabeth Borik's impassioned performance dismissed any disappointment I might have felt.

The work is inspired by text taken from a short prose piece written by James Agee in 1938, describes the American South in dreamlike fashion.

Houston audiences will have a second chance to see the concert Saturday, in conjunction with the award ceremonies.