Revenge and happiness were feelings constantly at play in Edmond Dede’s opera Morgiane, ou le Sultan d’Ispahan last week at Jazz at Lincoln Center’s Frederick P. Rose Hall. Those impulses, often contending and interrelated, along with a mysterious family secret, drive the world premiere of this opera, putatively the oldest one by an African American composer. Dede, a native of New Orleans (1827-1901), lived his most productive years in France where, in 1887, he composed Morgiane. It has taken 125 years for the opera to finally hit the stage, and after two abbreviated runs elsewhere it received a full performance here in New York City.Â
A summary of why it has taken so long is a narrative worthy of an opera itself, given the racial obstacles Dede endured during a lifetime when a Black man in the world of classical music was rarely appreciated. Morgiane is a testament of Dede’s talent, and the four-act opera, though limited in production, is a rather timeworn tale of a damsel in distress and family intrigue. Before being betrothed, Amine (Nicole Cabell) is kidnapped by an admiring Sultan (Kenneth Kellogg). In pursuit of her daughter, Morgiane (Mary Elizabeth Williams) is joined by Ali (Chauncey Packer) Amine’s fiance, and her presumed father Hagi Hassan (Joshua Conyers).
The second act is a travelogue describing a marketplace; no matter how beautiful and fragrant, it leans on a chorus and the thunderous voices of Conyers and Packer’s trilling tenor to carry the drama. Intermittently, Williams’ lilting soprano tones perfectly matched a section of the orchestra where the violas, cellos, bassoon, and flute accompany her. It was reminiscent of a shorter work by Dede that can be seen on YouTube.
By the third act the trio trying to rescue Amine is imprisoned by the Sultan after their disguise as singers goes awry. Even so, they lived up to Ali’s promise “to sing the song of the shepherd.” From the trumpet section comes an explosive fanfare, which means the Sultan is about to command the stage and he praises the prisoners for their harmonious rendition, a salute to them that in Morgiane’s words does not allay his “vile passion.”
Morgiane’s melodic soliloquy is the centerpiece of the final act and discloses why he can’t marry Amine, revealing the family secret, which by this time is only a surprise to the least attentive in the audience. While the plot may be hackneyed, the music is captivating, swelling in a timely manner to complement the often poetic libretto. Most alluring are the occasional musical references Dede embeds in the score, a surprising piece of syncopation under conductor Patrick Dupre Quigley’s sensitive guidance that is perhaps a nod to the composer’s New Orleans beginnings, and then a symphonic passage much like the sound of the crowded streets of Paris when Dede arrived there in its glorious heyday.
Now that the opera has been rediscovered and getting the exposure it was denied, there may be other works from Dede’s vast repertoire, though he wrote only one opera and to a great degree it’s quite sufficient.