The Year in Culture

Discovery zone: For Boston expat, the Houston performing arts scene is adelightful revelation

Classical Japanese dance meets American post-modern dance meets songs by TheCarpenters and Lou Reed played on a toy piano in "Tyler, Tyler" at DiverseWorks.
The Houston Ballet production of "Sandpaper Ballet"
Photo by Amitava Sarkar
Houston Grand Opera's "Turn of the Screw"
Photo by Rob Maccoll

I’ll admit that when I moved to Houston last March, I had plenty of expectations. Along with the friends in Boston I knew I would miss terribly, I counted organizations such as the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston Ballet, the Harvard Film Archive, and Boston Lyric Opera, to name only a few.

How would I feel once I had left them behind? After all, we’d been “seeing each other” for 24 years, and I counted on all of them to fuel my imagination week after week, year after year.

Many of my journalist and critic friends warned that it would never be the same in the Lone Star State, with that “you’ll be sorry” tone of voice. Oh, such typical Bostonians! Even though I was filled with expectations, I wasn’t looking for the exact experience I’d had in New England.

I’m delighted to report that, in many instances, Houston fares better than Boston when it comes to the performing arts.

The organization that comes first to mind is Houston Grand Opera. Boston can still only dream of such a company, with its extraordinary directors and high production standards, top-notch musicianship, and brilliant acting. When I’m at an HGO performance, I feel like I am experiencing 21^st century opera, even if the material is a “beloved favorite” like Eugene Onegin or Madame Butterfly.

In less than 10 months, I witnessed stunning re-interpretations of two Benjamin Britten masterpieces: Peter Grimes and The Turn of the Screw. These are, at the least, creepy and disturbing, but if I go to the theater seeking only beauty and solace, I’m not doing myself any favors.

HGO’s productions brought enormous life into these under-performed Britten works, hitting a part of my subconscious that would more often prefer to stay under the blankets. There’s something to be said for opera that gets way under your skin. Music director Patrick Summers’ interpretation of “The Four Sea Interludes” in Grimes alone was a revelation, exacting and careful without losing the passion.

Houston Grand Opera, as well, has not lost touch with the larger community, making the Wortham more than just a place for wealthy patrons to congregate over cocktails. This was evident in particular with Cruzar la Cara de la Luna, also known as the world’s first “Mariachi opera,” and one installment in the company’s ongoing Song of Houston project.

Focusing on three generations of a Mexican family torn between its homeland and Houston, the libretto by Broadway director Leonard Foglia and score by José “Pepe” Martínez were richly expressive and emotionally authentic. This unprecedented work was the operatic equivalent of The Little Engine That Could, a seemingly minor effort that once it premiered, stole every heart.

It didn’t hurt that on opening night the performance featured the legendary ensemble Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán, who appeared on stage with the singers. But when the fully-staged version appeared weeks later at Talento Bilingüe de Houston with Mariachi Aztlán (younger players who actually memorized the score), it was equally satisfying, proving that the opera has a life of its own away from HGO. I’m eagerly anticipating more chamber operas in 2011 that explore the lives of first- and second-generation immigrants, and the company has at least two planned already.

I’ve had more intermission-lobby arguments over the programs presented by Houston Ballet than any other organization in town, but I’m nonetheless thrilled to watch the company and wouldn’t think of missing a show. Here’s the problem: lots of folks are disappointed with artistic director Stanton Welch’s ongoing love affair with neo-classicism. When his work is uninspired (as in the case of his generic Tu Tu or the overwrought The Core: Gershwin, The Heart of the Big Apple), it looks really old-fashioned.

But Houstonians are used to having a choreographer as artistic director of their largest ballet company, and they shouldn’t take that situation for granted. In Boston, artistic director Mikko Nissinen never choreographs, except for his occasional staging of classical ballets, such as The Nutcracker. He hired a resident guest choreographer, Jorma Elo, who usually makes one new ballet a year, and whose contract could be “non-renewed” if Elo fell out of favor (fortunately, he hasn’t).

Houstonians will have a chance to see Elo’s work in May when he makes a premiere for Houston Ballet, so we should remember that it’s not like we’re not forced on a steady diet of Welch’s ballets. And it should be said that his taste in presenting other work is extremely sophisticated. Don’t forget that he brought Mark Morris’ perfect Sandpaper Ballet and Jiří Kylián’s sumptuous Forgotten Land this year alone. Once you see Elo’s work, you’ll wonder if he’s somebody you’d want to re-stage a classic. Welch’s talent in this regard, however, is solid. His sophisticated version of La Bayadère earlier this year is evidence enough.

Finally I’d like to mention DiverseWorks, the more-than-intriguing gallery and performance space on “the wrong side of the tracks” just past University of Houston downtown. If you’ve ever lived in a city where presenters lack adventure and daring (did I mention that I used to live in Boston?), you know why I value this venue above all others.

Yes, I need to live near a big ballet company and yes, I can’t imagine life without grand opera. But if I have no access to the newest, most cutting-edge work, I might as well pack it up and move again. If we support music and dance, we must also support the making of music and dance, and that means observing living artists who see beyond the horizon.

Most recently, co-executive director and performing arts curator Sixto Wagan brought the highly idiosyncratic choreographer Yasuko Yokoshi’s Tyler, Tyler to DiverseWorks. Try describing this stunning piece to anyone who hasn’t seen it and he or she will be skeptical: Classical Japanese dance meets American post-modern dance meets songs by The Carpenters and Lou Reed played on a toy piano. Half-way through, a handsome troubadour with an electric guitar invades the scene, with unexpected results. That’s just for starters. The Japanese and American cast worked diligently together on this poetic, introspective masterpiece, making for an evening unlike any I’ve ever witnessed.

It was a highly developed example of the emergence of globalism on the contemporary stage, and without doubt the best thing I saw in Houston in 2010.

Editor's note: This is the last in a series of articles CultureMap will be running this transition week (the end of '10 and the beginning of '11) on The Year in Culture. The stories in this series will focus on a key point or two, something that struck our reporting team about the year rather than rote Top 10 lists or bests of.

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