The Thrust: Alcina Is Some Kinky Opera 

Handel’s tale of island lust has some serious power dynamics on display in Seattle Opera’s bold staging. Alcina runs through 10/28 at McCaw Hall. 

Listen, my cruel beloved. 

On its face, Alcina is a magical island romance brimming with jealousy and crossed identities — the stuff of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night, but with more potential here for vengeance than comedy. But that’s not what Seattle Opera has embraced with this staging. 

Kinksters, this one’s for you. (Reformed prudes welcome, too.) 

On this island, the lustful whims of the sorceress Alcina rule the realm. Ruggiero has fallen into Alcina’s trap, lulled into affection, unaware of her age-old proclivity for turning past conquests into rocks and beasts. (“Don’t you know that thousands of her lovers are scattered in the forest?”) Ruggiero’s real love, Bradamante, has shown up on the island to retrieve him, but comes in disguise as a male warrior, accompanied by Melissa, who packs powers of her own. 

Right off the bat, we know this opera’s a little racy. The first scene features Ruggiero on display, as the title sorceress strokes his naked torso. But this is no ordinary love scene. They’re not just caressing but flaunting it, as their visitor, the cuckold undercover, looks on. The twists of gender fuckery, disguise, and imbalanced information, paired with their over-the-top display, make this scene extra juicy. Later, she’ll splay that cuckold out, with a slowness that’s both sensual and frightening, awaiting her wrath. 

But this is an opera, after all, and it’s here that one of the wonders of Alcina leaps out without so much as getting to her feet. Lying on the floor with (and underneath) Ruggiero, soprano Vanessa Goikoetxea’s Alcina carries the room with her massive voice, before flipping her conquest over effortlessly and moving in on top. 

In dazzle factor, that scene might be topped only by Sharleen Joynt, whose Morgana stands on a cushy chair, in heels, and delivers an impassioned missive at her original love, with his head at her crotch. 

Cuckolding, manipulation, polarities of desire (“You traitor, I love you so much”), and especially gender fuckery remain core themes throughout, and in this staging Seattle Opera doesn’t hesitate to lean into them. Vocal ranges help the cause. Countertenor Randall Scotting has such a high range it’s often hard to tell where Ruggiero’s singing ends and the leading ladies’ begins. It’s a stunning blend of voices. 

The staging, by any measure, is a bizarre one. A bear rug occupies center stage. Green upholstered chairs, paired off all over the stage, are the only set pieces. The whole vibe says “swingers’ lounge.” An overhead grid of can lights is lowered to mid-height, shining brightly, then all the way to the floor at select moments; the lights serve as both illumination and confinement. Video illustrations of tropical trees tower over in the backdrop — both the only literal reminder of the island setting and the element least fitting with the rest of the stage. Costumes dazzle, particularly some gleaming numbers on Alcina and Morgana. Captions are notably light-handed, leaving the non-Italian-speaking audience members to infer much from pantomime and intonation. 

Opera is defined often by its morose tones, longing, regret, and loss, and there are plenty of those beautiful lamentations in Alcina. But there’s plenty of humor here, too. Of the sparse captions, some are so over the top they united a usually subdued matinee audience in a chorus of laughter. The frequency of characters stripping mid-line — one was literally caught with his pants down, and left them there — became a running joke. But Alcina‘s lasting impression is a show of boldness: in the staging, in the dominion of its female leads (“Silence, coward!”), and in the tell-all, bare-all of its characters who, though deceiving much, nonetheless put it all out there: their lusts, their insecurities, and, yes, even love. 

Music by George Frideric Handel. Text adapted from libretto by Antonio Fanzaglia. Directed by Tim Albery. Conducted by Christine Brandes. With scenic and costume design by Hannah Clark, lighting design by Matthew Ricardson, video design by Ian William Galloway, and hair and makeup design by Ashlee Naegle. Performed by Ginger Costa-Jackson, Vanessa Goikoetxea, Sharleen Joynt, John Marzano, Randall Scotting, and Nina Yoshida Nelsen. 

Alcina runs through 10/28 at Seattle Opera (in McCaw Hall, Seattle Center/Mercer side). Tickets ($57+) here. Accessibility notes: main restrooms are gendered and multi-stall, with gender-neutral, single-stall restrooms available by most of them. Theatre and common areas are wheelchair accessible. Financial accessibility note: Pay-what-you-choose tickets available for Friday night’s performance (10/20); see info here. Additional rush and discount ticket information here.

Run time: 2 hours 55 minutes, with intermission.

Chase D. Anderson is Editor & Producer of NWTheatre.org.