Di Battista

THE GOOD SOLDIER SCHWEIK has frequently been visited by the shadow of Death. And while Death is not unusual in an opera, I'm referring to the lives of its creators. Jaroslav Hasek, who wrote the original stories about the plucky Czech soldier, planned six volumes of adventures, but he had only finished four when tuberculosis claimed him. The operatic version of SCHWIEK was posthumously presented in New York several months after its promising Czech-American composer, Robert Kurka, succumbed to leukemia.

A success d'estime at the premiere, GOOD SOLDIER SCHWEIK soon found a comfortable home with European companies but never caught the imagination of the American public. No doubt its absurdist style and uncompromisingly liberal politics made it uncomfortable for opera-goers of the time. But those very qualities make it a natural for the scrappy charm of a Long Beach Opera production.

The episodic nature of the story follows Schweik from bar to prison to asylum to the Army. Always disarmingly eager and disturbingly honest, Schweik manages to expose hypocrisy and undermine authority wherever he goes. And yet, he remains a passive observer; never raising his voice or questioning the pointlessness of the lunacy that surrounds him. The abiding enigma about Schweik is that one never knows whether he is a true naif or a brilliant mind masquerading as an imbecile.

In true Long Beach Opera style, the large singing cast of the opera is divided amongst a hard-working group of 9 soloists and 4 dancers. Director Ken Roht opens the proceedings with a comic Ringmaster and, if the physical trappings of the Big Top soon vanish, the manic energy of a circus proves an excellent choice for Schweik's incredible journey.

As Schweik appears in every scene, tenor Matthew DiBattista faces a daunting task even without the character doubling. The role is rangy and the brass-heavy orchestration perilous. But DiBattista reveals admirable stamina, generous sound, and surprisingly lyrical singing, conquering the score's vocal challenges with ease. His acting also brings a measure of sympathetic humanity to the hapless Schweik, nimbly avoiding the easy path of caricature.

The rest of the cast bring high caliber singing and boundless energy to their many roles. Particular standouts include Alex Richardson's ringing high notes, Jeremy Huw Williams' sad-sack Lukasch, Suzan Hanson's finely limned miniatures, and Jesse Merlin's appropriately creepy characterizations. Diction is excellent across the board.

Music historians identify Kurka as a Kurt Weill wannabe, seeing SCWEIK as a THREEPENNY OPERA knock-off. And, with its propulsive score filled with pastiche marches and waltzes, the comparison is easy. But, perhaps, too easy. Kurka deliberately avoids the populist conventions of THREEPENNY, and SCHWEIK's libretto (by Lewis Allen) is blatantly political. The more accurate comparison is Weill's pacifist treatise with Paul Green JOHNNY JOHNSON which was, coincidentally, inspired by Hasek's Schweik stories.

Artistic Director Andreas Mitisek leads the orchestra in a colorful and dramatically insistent reading of the score. One can literally hear Kurka spreading his musical wings and learning to soar. But SCHWEIK, good as it is, is less a forgotten masterpiece than an impressive and, more than usually heartfelt, calling card. It serves as a fitting memorial to a composer who, undoubtedly, would have given us much more, had he lived. And Long Beach Opera's production offers us the rare opportunity to experience Kurka's dream.

Long Beach Opera Center Theater, Long Beach and Barnum Hall, Santa Monica. January 23 & 30th, 2010 (562) 432-5934 or www.longbeachopera.org