Texas Classical Review

What a testament to Carlisle Floyd’s longevity: Ten years after Houston Grand Opera premiered his The Prince of Players, with the veteran composer on hand—and only four since the company presented a memorial concert in the wake of his death—the centennial of his birth is at hand. 

HGO is celebrating that anniversary with a staging of Floyd’s Of Mice and Men, which opened Friday at Wortham Theater Center.

In the decades since the company became a leading midwife of new operas, it has collaborated with dozens of composers. But none has been as close to it as Floyd, who was celebrated for his Susannah and Of Mice and Men when he joined the University of Houston faculty in 1976.

Taking up with him right away, HGO staged the world premieres of Floyd’s Bilby’s Doll, Willie Stark—televised on PBS—and Cold Sassy Tree in addition to his valedictory Prince of Players. The company’s 2002 revival of Of Mice and Men yielded the work’s first and only recording. 

Meanwhile, in harmony with his work as an educator, Floyd co-founded HGO’s training program for young artists, now known as the Butler Studio. The program has supplied the opera world with a stream of successful alumni including Joyce DiDonato, Denyce Graves, Ana Maria Martinez, Tamara Wilson and Ryan McKinney.

This weekend’s two performances of Of Mice and Men feature the Butler Studio’s current participants. 

Friday’s performance took place in the Wortham Center’s smaller venue, the 1,100-seat Cullen Theater. That brings the audience practically face-to-face with the cast—and with the hopes and heartbreaks of the characters Floyd drew from John Steinbeck’s Depression-era novel. 

After helping launch HGO’s season as a strutting, clarion-voiced Sportin’ Life in Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess, tenor Demetrious Sampson, Jr. could hardly have cut a more different figure Friday as the childlike Lennie, one of the two itinerant ranch hands at the center of the story.

Yes, Sampson’s trumpet tones came back into play at times, such as when Lennie gave in to the thrill of imagining life on a farm with a menagerie of pets. 

But Sampson’s voice was even more telling when he sang quietly. In the first scene, as Lennie described wanting a pet of his own whose fur he could stroke, Sampson’s gentleness helped reveal that Lennie was innocent at heart. But as Lennie’s urges and physical strength—neither of which he can control—lead to tragedy, the hush of Sampson’s singing captured the fear and foreboding that poor Lennie felt but couldn’t understand. 

Sampson’s Lennie magnified those changes through his demeanor: He let loose with boyish glee when he was happy, then shrank into himself when anxiety gripped him.

Bass-baritone Sam Dhobhany, as Lennie’s friend and protector George, complemented Sampson’s Lennie with the heft of his singing and the sturdiness of his presence. As George brooded about how simple his life would be without Lennie, Dhobhany’s singing was almost too resonant and heroic for a character rooted in humanity and compassion.

As the story unfolded, though, Dhobhany’s voice grew more fluent and expressive. When Lennie asked George to describe the farm they would somebody own—the dream that sustains both characters’ lives—he gave dignity and warmth to the opera’s big tune. However sharp-edged Dhobhany’s voice turned when George was exasperated with Lennie, more congenial tones always returned.

Soprano Alissa Goretsky easily tossed off the coloratura bursts that evoke the flirtatiousness of Curley’s Wife, whose temptation of Lennie turns the story toward tragedy.

But Goretsky’s voice had heft, too, and she easily matched Sampson’s impact when she and Lennie each reveled in their dreams of the future—illussions of Hollywood, in her case.

Tenor Shawn Roth brought yet another powerful voice to the role of Curley, the pugnacious farm owner. Not only did his brilliant tones put over Curley’s ferocity, but when Curley’s Wife confronted him about her unhappiness, the full-throated soprano and tenor practically turned the scene into American blood-and-guts verismo. 

Baritone Geonho Lee, as the ranch hand Slim, stood out for the mellowness he brought the score’s gentler side—especially Slim’s sadder-but-wiser meditation on the fact that he has never seen ranch hands’ dreams come true.

As the old-timer Candy, who gets in on George and Lennie’s plans for buying a farm, bass Ziniu Zhao joined in exuberantly for their celebratory trio—then raged after their dream was destroyed. Tenor Luka Tsevelidze, as the Ballad Singer, boasted a hearty voice and imposing presence that suggested he might be a Lennie of the future.

The production employed an adroitly condensed orchestration by Jim Medvitz for about two dozen players, and the HGO Orchestra—led by conductor Benjamin Manis—delivered the score’s tension, lyricism and explosiveness.

Director Kristine McIntyre’s staging captured the affection underlying George and Lennie’s relationship as well as the bonhomie among the ranch hands and the violence surrounding Curley.

Designer Luke Cantarella’s sets combine streamlined three-dimensional elements—a bit of forest undergrowth or a group of bunks—with video projections to intensify the story’s settings and moods.

All this adds up to a production that serves Floyd’s memory well. It moves on to Lyric Opera of Kansas City and Des Moines Metro Opera later this season. And it deserves to keep going from there. 

Of Mice and Men will be repeated 2:30 p.m. Sunday. houstongrandopera.org