Met Opera 2023-24 Radio Review: Dead Man Walking
Ryan McKinny and Joyce DiDonato in Dead Man Walking (Karen Almond/Met Opera)
When Jake Heggie sought Sister Helen Prejean’s permission to make an opera out of her bestselling book Dead Man Walking, she declared, “Jake, I don’t know boo scat about operas,” but agreed to “go with this” if he made two promises. One was that the opera would center around redemption, and the other was that Heggie would not write atonal music. There had to be melodies, hummable melodies.
Heggie promised, and he delivered. The result is remarkably lyrical for today’s day and age. From Sister Helen’s thematic hymn “He will gather us around” to the tensest exchanges between her and the murderer, Joseph De Rocher, Dead Man Walking is a lush valley in the shadow of death. Heggie did (the real) Sister Helen proud. I’m sure she’d be happy to know that I’ve been humming the Act 1 children’s chorus all week. There are some jazzy rhythms, and Elvis-esque rock ‘n' roll when De Rocher and Sister Helen discuss him, plus De Rocher’s singing is more like speaking, but the sum is nevertheless a tuneful masterpiece.
Melodies and all, a Met Opera premiere was no more than a “distant dream.” When DMW had its world premiere in 2000, Met policy was to avoid modern opera like the plague. Eventually, though, modern opera made its way to the Met, and later, so did the plague, but that’s another story.
At last, Dead Man Walking is at the Met, with a cast as starry as the premiere’s red carpet (guests included Anne Hathaway, Whoopi Goldberg, and Ben Stiller).
Joyce DiDonato in Dead Man Walking (Karen Almond/Met Opera)
With her performance as Sister Helen, superstar coloratura mezzo Joyce DiDonato proves yet again that she is not only a gifted singer but perhaps the opera world’s sincerest actress. When you watch her with no sound, you receive a similar impression as when you listen to her with no video. Joyce is unafraid to sacrifice vocal perfection in pursuit of truth, though she rarely got to dig into her ferocious chest voice as Sister Helen, more often lingering in her fine upper register. In her hands (cords?), “He will gather us around” morphed from a confident expression of piety into the fragile prayer of one whose faith, like herself, has been shaken but not broken. “Make me strong, make me wise, make me human,” Sister Helen prays in her aria “This journey.” Joyce can always be counted on to give deeply human performances, and like Heggie with his melodies, she delivered. In its review of Dead Man Walking, OperaWire called her an American treasure — I couldn’t agree more. When does she get a Kennedy Center Honor?
Ryan McKinny in Dead Man Walking (Karen Almond/Met Opera)
Ryan McKinny was another standout, the vocal embodiment of Joseph De Rocher’s vigor and stubbornness. Through the evening, his stubborn denial of guilt crumbled slowly, three moments standing out. Joseph’s defiance first began to crack when Sister Helen quoted “The truth will set you free” from the Bible. Joseph repeated it, deciding “I like that." Second, he demonstrated childish excitement at Sister Helen’s tale of seeing Elvis live. “Really? You saw the King? I never knew nobody who saw the King before.” The humanity of being an Elvis fan (though I am none) stayed with me. His journey culminated in a primal cry of agony when Joseph confessed to Sister Helen. By his last words — “I love you” — he had revealed the “child of God” that Sister Helen insisted he was. His arc was fascinating, and we should see more of Ryan at the Met!
Naturally, Susan Graham’s voice isn’t as clear as it was 20 years ago, but her characterization skills are still top-notch, employing a gripping combination of forced sunniness and devastation in the role of Joseph’s mother, Mrs. Patrick De Rocher. In a twist, Susan sang Sister Helen when Dead Man Walking premiered in 2000 in San Francisco. Full circle!
Susan Graham in Dead Man Walking (Karen Almond/Met Opera)
From left: Latonia Moore and Joyce DiDonato in Dead Man Walking (Karen Almond/Met Opera)
More than anyone else, Latonia Moore was called to reach for the heavens with her top notes as Sister Rose, Sister Helen’s colleague and confidante. This is Latonia’s third time opening the Met season (she sang in 2019’s Porgy and Bess and 2021’s Fire Shut Up in My Bones), and given how Met audiences adore her, it may not be the last.
The emotional center of the work is the heartbreaking Act 1 sextet “You don’t know.” The parents of the murdered children — sung by Wendy Bryn Harmer, Rod Gilfry, Krysty Swann, and Chauncey Packer — join in a sort of eloquent sob, while Sister Helen repeats “I’m sorry” over and over. All four parents were splendid, and Wendy Bryn Harmer has long been a favorite of mine.
From left: Wendy Bryn Harmer, Rod Gilfry, Joyce DiDonato, Krysty Swann, and Chauncey Packer in Dead Man Walking (Karen Almond/Met Opera)
There’s no question that Dead Man Walking is an emotionally harrowing work. The short film at the beginning depicting Joseph’s gruesome crime; the disorienting collage of voices shouting GO HOME NOW! at Sister Helen before she faints in Act 1; Joseph’s execution, in silence and horribly realistic close-up, which critics agreed had a nauseating effect on the audience — the heaviness rarely lets up over the three-hour opera.
There are brief moments of levity, such as the Elvis dialogue, Sister Helen saying the drive to Angola State Penitentiary was “hot, hot, hot… did I mention it was hot?” and a motorcycle cop (Justin Austin) saying “I never gave a nun no ticket before. Gave a ticket to an IRS agent once… got audited that year,” but these are few and far between. Like The Hours last year, Dead Man Walking puts our hearts through a beautiful wringer, as spine-tingling as the chill Jake Heggie got when Terrence McNally, the librettist, proposed making Sister Helen Prejean’s book into an opera.
There’s also no question that audiences love this beautiful wringer. Dead Man Walking is the most frequently performed contemporary opera of the 21st century, and this run of performances was greeted with euphoric approval. This Met Opera run may be nearly half over, but Dead Man Walking’s lifespan isn’t.
