Next February, 2027, Carlisle Floyd’s most acclaimed opera, Susannah, turns 72 years old. She is as young as springtime.
Premiered at Florida State University, where Floyd taught piano, his third opera was quickly produced by the New York City Opera and became an overnight sensation, compared to the Gershwins and DuBose Heyward’s Porgy and Bess (1935) as the next great American opera. Freely adapted by Floyd from the Biblical tale of “Susanna and the Elders” from the apocryphal sections of Daniel, the tale is a harsh study in evangelical hypocrisy tinged with the insidious effects of the Congressional anti-Communist investigations of the ‘50s, where innuendo and slander were enough evidence to prove guilt. It wasn’t facts that mattered, but the seriousness of the allegations.
Shunning both ancient Babylon and young prophet Daniel, Floyd sets his female protagonist in the rolling hills of ‘30s Appalachian Tennessee, ironically named New Hope Valley. The provincial town is ruled by the church, and virginal Susannah (soprano Sylvia D’Eramo), raised by her alcoholic brother Sam (tenor Bille Bruley), is at peace with her forest surroundings but viewed with suspicion by the town busybodies. She longs to see the place on the other side of the mountains (her “Ain’t it a Beautiful Night,” is a standard aria for sopranos in song contests), but clearly realizes that her dream will probably never be fulfilled.
Bathing in the “crick,” she is spied upon by the church elders who condemn her nudity to the priggish congregants and the newly arrived itinerant fire-and-brimstone preacher Olin Blitch (baritone Rod Gilfry). Mrs. McLean (mezzo Deborah Nansteel) leads the quartet of the shocked and appalled elder wives. “He sure hates sin,” they sing in folksy harmony while the orchestra growls in discontent.
Blitch is drawn to this young beauty of the hills, and his attempt to cast out the devil leads quickly to the erotic. Numbed and nearly catatonic from the slights and abuse from her neighbors who shun her, Susannah is seduced. To her horror, she has become what everyone thinks she already is. The church has already condemned her with the forced confession of her only friend, the simpleton Little Bat (tenor Aaron Blake in tour-de-force mode), who lies that she made love to him. Her fate is sealed, even with Blitch’s protestations of her innocence, although he won’t fess up to what he did.
Sam’s guilt at not being home during the assault – he got drunk again – drives him to kill Blitch during a baptism ceremony at Susanna’s stream. The town rushes to her cabin in the woods to confront her but finds a woman in control. Holding them at bay with Sam’s rifle, she stands her ground, accepting their denunciations by staying put in New Hope Valley. Society’s blind and unforgiving intransigence has warped her. She’s the town’s pariah at last, independent but horribly alone.
Floyd portrays a brittle truth in his anxious melodies that run from pseudo hymns, harp-infused lullabies (Susanna’s Act II dreamlike plaint to lost love,“The Trees on the Mountain,” is even more radiant than “Beautiful Night”), rousing choral numbers, square dance reels, and the ever-present sounds of nature like bird calls at dusk or rippling water at the crick. Filled with late-romanticism in its orchestration, this is very much a modern opera in story, structure, and harmony. It deserves all the praise.
D’Eramo has passion and a grand stage presence, but sometimes her voice veered into stridency at the top and the words became muddled. Her rendition of the “Trees” aria soared into the sublime, and she received notable applause. She was very much present in character. As Blitch, Gilfry sounded somewhat frayed and gruff. His “Prayer” was softer and more effective, but his rousing Sermon scene seemed wobbly and not always on pitch. There was no oil in his voice, no subtlety to his profane machinations. He could have been singing offstage.
The secondary characters came off best: Bruley as Sam, and Blake as Little Bat. Though depicted as coarse and lowdown, brother Sam loves his young sister Susannah, calls her “robin” and acts as our conscience during the opera, giving advice, singing an old family favorite to calm her down. But it was Blake as Little Bat in his few important scenes who brought Susannah to life with his tics and twitches in his finely detailed performance. When he betrayed her with a lie, albeit forced out of him by the townsfolk, he shattered internally. With his plaintive voice, his innocence broke our heart.
The HGO chorus was topnotch, as usual. Under chorus master pro Richard Bado, when are they ever not topnotch? Famed international soprano Patricia Racette, an HGO favorite for years, directs with sure hand and fine clarity of motive. She is helped tremendously in the effective physical production by Erhard Rom’s rough wood sets and stunning projections, Michael Yeargan’s ‘30s Sears Catalog costumes, and Eric Southern’s woodsy lighting. Maestro James Gaffigan, HGO’s Music Director Designate for the 2026-27 season until he assumes Music Director in fall 2027, conducted with force and love of Floyd. Balanced and in control, the orchestra whispered then roared then cried out in anguish.
After a promising start and international productions, Floyd’s southern homespun fell out of favor. Only recently has Susannah, Of Mice and Men (a particular favorite), and Cold Sassy Tree been revived with some frequency. Even with not quite definitive singing from the principals, Susanna packs a wallop. It still reads modern and relevant for today, and for an opera from 1955, that’s high praise indeed.
Susannah continues through November 8 at 7 p.m. Friday, October 23; 7:30 p.m. Saturday, October 31 and Friday, November 6; and 2 p.m. Sunday, October 25 and Sunday, November 8 at Houston Grand Opera, Wortham Theater Center, 501 Texas. For more information, call 713-228-6737 or visit houstongrandopera.org. $25-$297.50.
