Author Lynne Kaufman has carved an admirable niche creating intimate, dramatic, small cast, biographical plays.  A pre-eminent, but by no means exclusive, producer of those works has been San Francisco’s The Marsh, an esteemed and prolific presenter of new works.  Frequent collaborator Warren David Keith also participates once again as director.

Otherwise consistent with this oeuvre, Kaufman’s script for this engrossing world premiere about erotic exploration, more from an intellectual than a lascivious perspective, is from completely original material.   The cast expands from the usual one or two actors to four, though only two appear at a time, as the vignettes are primarily about relationships.  Making the narrative more compelling, the performers are drawn from among the brightest stars in the Bay Area constellation.

Characters and time stamps of the action yo-yo engrossingly between denizens of Pompeii immediately before the historic eruption of Vesuvius and contemporary contributors to the arts.  The plotline centers on the opening of a museum in Naples that celebrates previously banned art with a sexual focus, especially on the erect phallus, which appears to have been given much artistic attention in (who knew?) sexy old Pompeii.

A new fresco has been unearthed from the Pompeii ash, and an American film maker (portrayed by Arven Anderson) with a sexual and feminist bent seeks an exclusive viewing to include in an upcoming documentary film.  It just so happens that the director of the museum (Johnny Moreno) is a former lover of hers.  Thus, she is confident of receiving the favor, but conflict dominates their interaction.

The play’s concept and execution engage throughout, a sequence of dialogues between and a man and a woman.  Some audience members could be a little confused by the frequent scene shifts between characters and times, especially with actors playing multiple roles, though I did not find that a problem.

Kaufman’s intent in The Secret Museum seems clear.  It should be interpreted very much through the lens of sexual stereotyping, rejecting the impositions that men have traditionally placed on women.  The dominant realm is the sexual and its influence on relationships.  In the focal couples and in different ways, the unbridled woman pursues and the man demurs, making for unconventional, but in many ways, refreshing sex roles. 

The other realm is the arts.  In each couple, the woman is the artist, and in different ways, the man objects to the woman’s independence and creativity which he feels should be reserved for men.

Moreno and Anderson are no strangers to Kaufman’s work, as the pair also starred in her play about Anaïs Nin, Shameless Hussy, premiered at The Marsh last year.  It too dealt with a woman breaking free from societal constraints.

What is particularly interesting in The Secret Museum is their very different, yet equally captivating acting styles.  Indeed, they are reminiscent of Marlon Brando and Kim Hunter in the film Streetcar Named Desire.

Moreno is heavily affected with a percussive speaking style, dramatic facial expression, and integrating body movement from neck to knees as if a boxer bobbing and weaving.  Conversely, Anderson seems restrained and naturalistic, as if she were carrying on a conversation guided by a Spencer Tracy dictum of “Don’t act, just speak your lines.”  As her character is American and he is Italian, the contrast of cross-cultural chalk and cheese works. Their clashes over a number of topics rivets and begs the question what attracted them to one another in the past. There is also some surprise when one of them tries to rekindle the flame.

The other couple is a real-life couple, and it’s nice to see them spark when they get an opportunity to share the stage, especially facing off in numerous relationship roles.  In the play’s opening vignette, Joseph O’Malley plays Apollo, the god representing wisdom and order, while Lyndsy Kail plays Dionysus, the god of festivity and fertility.  What may at first seem disconnected to the narrative resolves as we see in each dyad of characters the respective traits that the gods represent.  A minor point is that while a cognate of the name Apollo is used in both Greek and Roman mythology, Dionysus is a Greek god, and it is unclear why his Roman counterpart Bacchus would not be used in the play.

Kail effectively impacts and exudes composure in each of her manifestations (womanifestations?).  Although she is more ebullient and charming in some of her other characters, I particularly like her as an English painter whose affect belies what she is saying – very English actually.  O’Malley distinguishes himself as he shows the greatest range among the actors from the furious Pompeiian husband who insists that his wife heed his demands to the prudish and mousy English husband who can’t believe what he’s hearing from his wife.

Kudos again to the superb acting ensemble for endowing each character with the distinctiveness intended. The playwright’s exploration of these relationships makes for provocative fare, and the play deserves to be extended to full-length to become more marketable. One specific modification to the script going forward might be to increase or emphasize the stakes and therefore the tension. Inadequate conflict tends to be the Achilles heel of relationship fare that doesn’t quite make it.

The Secret Museum, a world premiere, is written by Lynne Kaufman and plays at The Marsh, 1062 Valencia Street, San Francisco, CA through November 22, 2026.

En route to War Memorial Opera House, my wife and editor Karin declared, “I think I’ve had enough of Marriage” (I think she meant “of Figaro,” and not our five decades of connubial bliss!) to which I was silent.  This would be our seventh Marriage, including the same San Francisco Opera production from 2019, and notwithstanding our reluctance, its place as one of the great comedies, if not the finest in all opera, cannot be denied.

On the plus side for the evening, it was Halloween, and it is fun to see kids and many young adults festooned and frolicking in their fanciful costumes, with even some patrons at the opera participating.  Also, since it was the end of Daylight Savings Time, we got an extra hour on our clock which compensated for the late night from an opera approaching four hours in length.  However, most historic was the supertitle flashed to a great ovation just before curtain-up, that the Golden State Valkyries (Hello, Richard Wagner) won the WNBA championship in their second year, the earliest for a major professional sports team in American history.

But what made the evening a trifecta-plus is that the production of The Marriage of Figaro was fantastic, and both Karin and I enjoyed it tremendously.  Though the staging, which moves the action to the late 18^th century in the United States, is from the 2019 production, the cast is new.  It’s hard to distinguish the quality of the singing among the performers as they are all stellar, without a weak link.  How many times can you say rich vibrato, impressive range, and full sound?

Also notable – individually and collectively, the comic delivery excels.  For this we must recognize the guidance of Director Shawna Lucey, whose understanding of movement, timing, and delivery are impeccable.  Though much humor of wit and manners is in the libretto, it requires the physical delivery of faces mugging, arms flailing, jumping out of windows, and hiding under sheets and skirts.  All of this is done with great flair.

Rarely can an opera sustain the level of amusement that this does, and if it does grow stale toward the end, we can blame librettist Lorenzo da Ponte and composer Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart for not recognizing when enough is enough.  Of course, in their day, the audience wanted their money’s worth, and they didn’t have to contend with a 6 a.m. conference call to the East Coast the following morning; the babysitter’s meter ticking on overtime; or the shortened attention span in an electronic age.

The main thread running through the narrative is that the Count’s valet Figaro (an ebullient and magnetic Peter Kellner) is to marry the Countess’s maid Susanna (a clever and determined Slávka Zámečniková, Kellner’s real-life wife!), but Count Almaviva (Thomas Mole, following on another brilliant performance of a lousy character as James in Mary, Queen of Scots) has invoked the droit du seigneur, which allows the lord of the manor to have his way with the female servant before the nuptials.  Needless to say, neither the Countess (Olivia Smith in a compelling breakthrough role) nor the engaged couple is pleased with this prospect, so much ado concerns the strategy to avoid the bedding.  Incidentally, today, we just look at the plot as silly, but the humiliation of nobles by servants was highly controversial in its time, and state censors had to be accommodated.

Another angle in the story concerns the hormonal odyssey of the page Cherubino (brightly animated Simone McIntosh), most critically, his flirtations with the Countess who feels abandoned by her husband.  The role of the charming but indelicate page is one of the most famous and significant trousers roles in opera, with the boy performed by a female mezzo.  In this opera, the device works particularly well because Cherubino will later appear as a female.

While the action gets complexer and complexer and drags a bit in Acts 3 and 4, the brilliant music carries on.  The ensembles throughout are numerous and striking.  When an older woman, Marcellina (witchy-looking SF Opera legend Catherine Cook) insists that Figaro must marry her to satisfy a debt, the wonderful Act 2 ending sextet ensues with each character commenting on the complicated situation.  Another ensemble highlight is the ethereal “Sull’aria” (“on the breeze”, known as “The Letter Duet”) in which the Countess and Susanna reveal the mistaken identity ruse in which Cherubino will stand in for Susanna in an assignation with the Count.

As rich as Mozart’s music is, two of his most memorable arias in Marriage build on simple yet elegant phrases, both of which are delivered with great care.  One is “Voi che sapete” (“You who know what love is”) in which the young Cherubino admits to great confusion about falling in love.  Conversely, the Countess’s soliloquy “Dove sono?” (“Where am I?”), is from one who has experience and laments the lost days of her love with the Count.  There are many other set pieces of note, and we shouldn’t forget Figaro’s famously jaunty and totally hummable “Non più andrai” (“No longer will you go”).

There are some other surprises which add to the fun. For those who don’t know, Rossini’s comic opera The Barber of Seville is a prequel, and two other interesting characters carry over from the earlier story, the handkerchief waving music master Don Basilio (clarion tenor Alek Shrader) and the now distrusting and vengeful Dr. Bartolo (fine bass Maurizio Muraro).  And while one could wax on about The Marriage of Figaro, the virtues of the opera and this production should be apparent.

The Marriage of Figaro, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, with libretto by Lorenzo da Ponte, and based on the play La Folle Journée, ou Le Mariage de Figaro by Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais is produced by San Francisco Opera and appears on its stage at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, CA through November 29, 2026.

By large consensus, monogamy has become the accepted form of conjugal relationship worldwide, both legally and morally.  Yet, defiance of the standard is rife, suggesting that the convention’s hold is tenuous.  Nevertheless, breaches involving sexual activities often inflict psychological pain and are usually punished.  But measurement is not as simple as an on-off switch.  Duration may count. And sometimes reciprocity enters the equation.  For instance, did one party do something that triggered an affair by the other, and are the respective offenses equivalencies?

With Betrayal from Harold Pinter, we have one of the greats from one of the greats, a hugely award-winning play full of dark humor, pathos, conflict, and questions of loyalty.  An added dimension is that the play is semi-autobiographical, at least to the extent that Pinter had an affair for several years, which probably prompted the theme for this play.  And as the central theme, it is easy to identify the cuckolded husband as the one betrayed, but betrayal can run in any direction, including to self.

Not that everybody will find Betrayal their cup of tea (tea being appropriate as the play does take place in London).  Its edges are sharp and its characters deeply flawed, so if your idea of good theater is characters that you can root for, this probably doesn’t work for you.  Then again, Death of a Salesman, Glengarry Glen Ross, Sweeney Todd, most of Shakespeare’s histories and tragedies, and a wide collection of the greatest theatrical offerings ever written probably don’t either.

Carey Perloff is a noted interpreter of Pinter’s works, having a personal history with the playwright, and we are in excellent hands with her direction.  Viewers who are engaged in the narrative will find the time flies by quickly, and even if we don’t love the characters, we are interested in their stories.  Essentially a three-hander, the love triangle comprises Emma, an art gallery executive; Robert, her husband and publisher of modern works of fiction; and Jerry, an agent, whose star client’s books are published by Robert, who doesn’t think much of the author’s works, but they do help “pay the rent.”

Like Emma and Robert, Jerry is also comfortably married, and both couples have two children.  Robert and Jerry are good friends going back to high school, so that professional success and family relationships suggest exemplary lives rather than a surreptitious affair between Emma and Jerry that has gone on for seven years.

The interesting device in Betrayal is that while the time of the action spans the years 1968 to 1977, for the greater part, it is told backward in a very clever and largely understandable manner.  Thus, we know the outcome at the outset, but we are still interested to know why and how the characters got to that point.  Although there are nine scenes, most all occur with only two characters in the intimacy, indeed claustrophobia, of a room in a house or flat.

Given the required secrecy and logistics involved to carry on an affair, the longer it goes, the more complicated and risky it becomes.  Though it must be said, it would have been easier back then before cell phones, tracking technology, and the like that limit unexplained absences.  But apart from the ability to have unexplained time, other issues remain.

The playwright introduces a number of auxiliary issues. Characters repeat the same question at different times and elicit different answers.  Are respondents compulsively untruthful, or do the same past events trigger memory in a dissimilar way depending on the context?

With Emma and Jerry, does Robert know about the affair, and if so, when did he learn, and why has he said nothing, and does he care?  As discreet as the lovers think they’ve been, do other people know, and do they talk about it behind their backs?  Have either of them divulged information about the lover to the spouse that they wouldn’t be expected to know?   And what about unexpected events?  Pinter surfaces these potential stumbling blocks and more.  At the same time, he doesn’t present the perpetrators as villains, but just as people with complex lives that inevitably lead to conflict.

The cast is first rate with naturalistic acting including the pauses and uhs that reflect real life conversations. Marin Theatre favorite Sklar is the charming, emotional, and usually effervescent Emma with her conflicted loyalties as she tries to balance her relationship with two men and maintain her professional life. Charlie Semine portrays Robert as a phlegmatic and reflective man who finds himself out of his element professionally, preferring to read Yeats’s poetry and generally disdaining prose. Perhaps he feels out of his element in other ways as well.  And Tasso Feldman is Jerry.  Always matter of fact, he talks a good relationship game, but is he really loyal, or is he merely the opportunist that we expect agents to be? Pinter leaves much open to our speculation.

Betrayal, written by Harold Pinter, is produced by Marin Theatre and plays on its stage at 397 Miller Avenue, Mill Valley, CA through November 15, 2026.

Some movies are so riveting and memorable that one wonders why a theater group would want to mount a stage production and fare poorly by comparison.  Such is the film The Lion in Winter, loved by audiences and critics alike, and with a haul of Oscar nominations and wins.  Peter O’Toole and Katherine Hepburn seethe and tear up the screen with breathtaking performances that are beyond biting and actually over-the-top.

Not to be intimidated, Altarena Playhouse has taken up the challenge, and disproving the pessimistic hypothesis, offers a totally rewarding rendering of James Goldman’s witty script about the unending political machinations of a massively dysfunctional royal family.  The playwright remains true to the significant historical points, while the interplay among the characters is fanciful, but gripping.

The time is the late 1100s, and Henry II of England is first in the line of Plantagenet kings.  His rule extends to much of France, partly enhanced by his marriage to Eleanor of Aquitaine.  However, Eleanor and their eldest still-living son Richard, who would become Richard the Lionheart, led a rebellion against Henry, with the result that Eleanor was arrested.

At the time of the play’s action, Eleanor is in her tenth year of imprisonment, yet she retains power, leverage, and in this telling, a delightfully complex relationship with her husband and jailer, in part because she still exercises control over Aquitaine.  The battle between the couple is largely over succession, with Eleanor supporting Richard and Henry supporting John, the youngest son.  In time, both would become king, while the surviving middle son, Geoffrey, would be the odd man out, supported by neither parent.

Katina Psihos is Altarena’s artistic director, and it seems pretty clear why she chose this project.  She steps back onto the stage as Eleanor, with an absolutely triumphant performance in a role that couldn’t suit her better.  Her Eleanor is imperious yet fragile and loving yet cruel, and in a microcosm where flippancy is expected and valued, she is a master.  At one moment, her intimacy with Henry belies her incarceration, and in the next, she all but challenges him to execute her. Psihos’s acting intelligence is off the charts, using every facial feature with expressive exactitude.  Likewise, her vocal quality carries the right lilt and demonstrativeness appropriate to each situation.

Meanwhile, Henry is late middle aged but depicted as highly hormonal, flaunting at Eleanor his carnal relationship with the younger Alais (Sydney Harmon).  Now, read this about the complexities of the relationships.  The vulnerable Alais, Princess and half-sister of Philip II of France (Ryan Chu), was betrothed to Richard (Colin Epstein) at age 8 and sent to live under Henry’s protection.  Eleanor was her surrogate mother.  Yet, despite all, Henry, has made Alais his public mistress (historically, there were rumors, but no proof of this liaison).

Daron Jennings provides an apt and full-fleshed portrayal of Henry – insightful, eloquent, and manipulative – standing toe-to-toe with Eleanor and largely bellowing at her and the sons that they both find a disgrace.  But Jennings also finds a sensitive side in the character, and despite his bluster, leaves doors open for options.  And like his distaff, it’s hard at times to know when they are being truthful and when they are deceiving.

In this turmoil, the three sons conspire against their parents and one another and often without attempt for deception.  Richard is a particular bull in the china shop, while the intellect among them is the acerbic Geoffrey, who is played with sardonic flair by Julian Dion.

The most unfathomable aspect of the frail alliances within the corrupt family rests with the way John (Dominic Antonich) is written.  He is such a simpleton that it begs the question why Henry wishes John to succeed him, other than the fact that John was not involved in the rebellion.  In truth, Eleanor did support John after the death of Richard, but that may have been simply because of blood and her perceived ability to control him.  Incidentally, it was John who was forced to sign the Magna Carta, after all of the other family members were gone.

Director Angela Mason’s pacing of the play with its witty badinage, questioning of motives, and never-ending conspiratorial strategies makes the evening fly by.  The acting of the two main principals carries the day, and while the rest are generally okay, there are some instances of overacting and less convincing portrayals.  In part dictated by the several different venues needed, the staging is basic, but with some elegant trappings. However, the script is so compelling and the delivery so sharp that it really doesn’t matter.  This production entertains.

The Lion in Winter, written by James Goldman is produced by Altarena Playhouse and is performed on its stage at 1409 High Street, Alameda, CA through November 22, 2026.

It’s too long.  Act One drags, yet life altering events fly by in a flash and without prologue.  The drama is clunky and inexplicable at times, but that’s French opera for you.  Situations are too reminiscent of La Traviata (though Manon’s source material is earlier).  Finally, the austere set is comprised of a bleak, white tapered wall. The verdict?

Though flawed, and what isn’t, Manon is a masterpiece.  Along with Werther, it deservedly remains one of the composer’s two most popular operas.  Massenet mastered melody, so the music enchants throughout, and the characters captivate.  What’s more, the San Francisco Opera production is a delight.  And in this realization, the lead couple own their roles.  They both spark and sparkle with uncommon chemistry, perhaps because they’re married in real life and get to have extra rehearsal time together in their lodgings!

While Massenet and his librettists may have faltered in their dramatic thrust, they have produced one of opera’s great femme fatale lead characters with multiple dimensions, or at least evolution.  The young Manon, who was to be sent to a convent because of her reckless behavior as an adolescent, shows impulsiveness as she quickly accedes to Chevalier des Grieux’s hasty marriage proposal and runs off with him.  She admits to her envy of rich young women adorned in jewelry, evidenced by a bright, delightful acapella mezzo trio.  But her quest for riches is not likely to be fulfilled in her arrangement with des Grieux.

Buffeted by conflicting desires, she allows her betrothed to be abducted in return for the promise of marriage into great wealth.  But in another about-face, she ultimately returns to des Grieux driven by what would appear to be a genuine reflection of love, and she seeks redemption.

Former Adler Fellow at San Francisco Opera, Amina Edris returns as one of the great contemporary interpreters of this role, which she has performed around the world.  In voice and action, she captures every aspect of Manon with precision from the flighty ingenue looking to escape a doleful future to the tragic lover.

Her voice possesses a warm timbre and vibrato throughout her range, navigating the coloratura elements with relish, especially when she trumpets her new-found high-society notoriety in the famed “Je marche sur tous les chemins” (“I walk all the streets”) and the following gavotte “Obéissons quand leur voix appelle” (“Obey when their voices call”) in Act 3.  The role demands lyric lushness which Edris provides, but not the power that a dramatic soprano role would.  Indeed, in her duets she doesn’t quite maintain the desired volume balance with the tenor.

Like his wife, Pene Pati was also a well-loved Adler Fellow who has taken on many title roles especially in some of Europe’s top houses.  A tenor of the highest order, his voice excels in its strength, enthusiasm, and clarity, without the strained or pinched sound of many others in this voice range.  His acting meets opera’s highest demands, with his passionate best directed at Manon, from gambling party scenes to unrestrained love to near violent rejection and ultimate tragedy.  The composer also endows this role with a number of melodious arias, the most memorable being the lament he conquers when entering the religious world and leaving his love behind, “Ah fuyez douce image” (“Oh vanish sweet memory”). 

Massenet offers more than just show-stopping arias for the lovers.  A strong chorus and ensemble pieces, including a foreboding quartet and duets for the lovers, play a large role.  Secondary characters are significant, all of which are male.  Most notable is the Comte des Grieux, the Chevalier’s inconsolable and interfering father, akin to Traviata’s Giorgio Germont.   Portrayed by James Creswell, the compelling bass displays particular ease and volume consistency throughout his range while maintaining model diction.

Back to the staging which can make a significant difference in the vibrancy and appeal of an opera.  Like Maya Lin’s gash, as the Viet Nam War Memorial was often derisively called, it may take a while for the viewer to respect Director Vincent Boussard and Set Designer Vincent Lemaire’s minimalistic set.

But in the end, it works brilliantly as a versatile canvas.  Variously imbued with light, shadow, reflection, and projection, and while occasionally set off by symbolic props and rich splashes of color, the formerly empty space fills the eye with everything from balloons to crucifixion symbols.  A parapet running the length of the wall at one time displays a cityscape of Paris and acts as a linear platform for crowds.  And when the gargantuan chorus floods the stage, it is not lost in the scenery but looks and acts as an organic whole. A final mention goes again to Boussard, who is also responsible for the sumptuous costume design which adds another stunning visual element.

Manon, composed by Jules Massenet with libretto by Henri Meilhac and Philippe Gille, is produced by San Francisco Opera and plays at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Ave., San Francisco, CA through November 1, 2026.

Alchemists change something ordinary into something extraordinary. That can be said of Alkemē Restaurant’s chef-owner Hue-Chan Karels and executive chef and general manager Erica Tai. They have created a menu of healthy, nurturing Vietnamese-centric food in Santa Fe, New Mexico that combines Michelin quality and taste with peasant history and tradition. So, if you’re expecting and wanting normal inexpensive American/Vietnamese fare, you’ll be disappointed.

Santa Fe has become a foodie paradise, having probably more restaurants with award recognition per capita than any other American city. Although some Santa Fe restaurants are over 100 years old, there are many and diverse newcomers including Alkemē, James Beard-nominated Best New Restaurant in 2024. Edible Magazine named Alkemē Local Hero Best Restaurant as it celebrated its third anniversary in June, 2026.

The restaurant combines fine dining with family hospitality.  Hostess and servers are friendly and knowledgeable about the food history and recipe ingredients. Wall leaf paintings adorned in colors of green, gold and black, along with Asian lanterns dominate the décor.  Along with the accompaniment of soft jazzy/bluesy music, a very calming ambience results.

A choice of a tasting menus, land or sea ($85) and a vegetarian option ($75), has suggestions for accompanying delectable craft cocktails, wines, and beers, or diners can choose a la carte.  A la carte allows individual entrée choices ranging from $16 to $39. All the food is inventive and complex.

Ingredients often sound simple but the flavors harmonize and honor the Vietnamese tradition, spirit, and journey. Every dish is handmade each day. Many of the ingredients are brought from Vietnam. For example, I enjoyed a sweet/tart “Violet Crown” cocktail comprised of Vietnamese butterfly pea flower infused vodka, fresh lime juice, fresh ginger, house made ginger syrup and egg white. So the cocktails as well as the food have healing nourishing ingredients.

One of the wonderful starters is a Carrot soup designed and developed during Covid for delivery by owner Hue-Chan to nurture, heal, and boost the immune system. The handmade, vegan, gluten-free, nut-free vegetable broth laced with ginger, turmeric, coconut milk, and spiced carrot crisps sounds quite simple yet possesses a rich, complex palate that was perhaps my favorite of the many delicious dishes.  It was named as a favorite by a number of diners I interviewed.

Other mouthwatering appetizers include Turmeric crispy cod with dill aioli, Vietnamese herb oil, fennel-jicama-green apple slaw, and pickled red onions; Citrus-cured yellowfin tuna with tamarind-fish sauce, pickled Asian pear, red chili essence, rau ram, and crisp rice paper; and Rice turmeric crepe with pork belly, vegetables, and herbs. All of these and more choices can be ordered vegan and gluten-free.

Like the appetizers, main course influences come from throughout Vietnam, and many are vegetarian or pescatarian.  Notable meat choices include Hanoi-style grilled pork noodles. The fine cut rice noodles are complemented with picked green papaya and carrot, in a warm lime/fish broth sweetened with palm sugar and an abundance of tender grilled pork patties and slices. Another favorite is the Broken rice with duck fat confit umami chicken leg (yes – that’s one name!) with Red Boat fish sauce and salt-cured, pork-egg terrine. It is worth noting that many dishes include broken rice. This is the rice that the Vietnamese peasants kept for their own nourishment after collecting the whole rice for sale.

Portions are sumptuous, generous, filling, and enough to take home for at least one more meal. If diners can manage more food, they might be tempted to try one of several dessert options ($14) such as Vietnamese Coffee flan with almond meringue or Warm coconut-pandan pudding with bananas, tapioca pearls, sweet potato mochi, and toasted coconut.

Take-away can be ordered, but the experience of becoming one of Alkemē’s family by dining in should not be missed.  Enjoy as a general night out or on a celebratory special occasion with staff singing and perhaps offering some surprise extras. So if Vietnam is too far for a birthday night out, how about Santa Fe, New Mexico?

Alkemē Restaurant – 227 Don Gaspar (at the corner of W. Alameda), Santa Fe, NM. Dinner service Tuesday through Saturday 5pm to 8:45pm. Welcomes children over 5years. Dress: business casual.

Change happens.  So it was in 1956 with the real-world urban development that would reshape San Francisco’s diverse and largely black Fillmore District, displacing over 10,000 people.  The world premiere musical Every Saturday Night….. centers on a broken black family facing the uncertainties of the project.    The proceedings intermittently flash forward to present day when only the now elderly son of the family remains alive.  The musical also reveals the enterprise of the oppressed in dealing with disadvantage and the bonds that people shared in their spare time when they were free to be themselves.

A friendly opening night audience roared with support.  This labor of love possesses numerous strengths, but like many premieres, the work does need some work.

Ardella (Cathleen Riddley) managed to buy a house in The Fillmore because of supplementary earnings from operating After Hours, an unlicensed club, at her home every Saturday night, charging for booze and chicken dinners and providing music for guests to dance to.  The animated parties with song and dance create an upbeat vibe and escape for all involved, and the party sequences play a big role in the feel-good aspect of the play. 

The music throughout is catchy and does help the story along.  Though not a fault as such, what does surprise a bit is the conventional sound of the tunes, like a typical stage musical.  Particularly in the 1950s, The Fillmore was a center for jazz and blues, but those influences on the music in the play are minimal, with the exception of one song with scat riffs and the occasional bluesy chord in a couple of others.

Despite many light touches, the story bulges with social issues.  One particularly incisive and reflective one revolves around Christine (the acting highlight of the show – a delightful, flamboyant Velina Brown), who is with the neighborhood heritage society in the contemporary period of the play.  As well intended as she and her group are, they are intervening in the real estate market to try to ensure that the “right kind of people” settle in the neighborhood, which in large measure repeats the motivation of the earlier urban renewal project, but with social class rather than racial implications.

Another issue concerns Ardella’s adolescent son Donte (Jacob Henrie-Naffaa), who has hidden from her the fact that he is acting in a play as Peter Pan.  The circumstances that surround the issue deal with parent-child communication and extend to homosexuality, which is implied but not expressed.

Use of the same space to tell two different stories in alternating fashion with only one overlapping character is clever.  A particularly effective design orchestrated by Director AeJay Antonis Marquis is sequences when both the characters from the ‘50s and from today are on the stage together and their dialogues interspersed.  The execution didn’t live up to its potential at opening, but hopefully it will improve.

Most of the performers seem to be primarily actors, and the singing is uneven, with only Imri M. Tate as Doris displaying a strong voice.  A couple of numbers seem that they would benefit singers by being sung in a different key, and one of young Donte’s that requires the performer to shift registers does no one any favors.

The appealing production, directed and choreographed by AeJay Antonis Marquis, features handsome staging led by Sarah Phykitt’s single set that serves as the venue for all of the action.  Notably, Marquis provides extensive and energetic dance and Amber Julian the considerable hair, wig, and makeup demands.

Although the story of a whole black community being dispossessed by a disastrous urban renewal program resonates, it fails to explain the magnitude of what actually happened; why Ardella’s home was spared; the fictionalized effect on other characters; or the recent disgrace of Justin Herman who was a major architect and executor of the program.  This is despite the significance of the falling out between Ardella and her tenant Doris in the play over whether to protest the project.  A brief narrative in the latter time frame from Older Donte (Darryl V. Jones) to the prospective home buyers would be appropriate.

The storyline will interest Bay Area aficionados and those concerned with how minority groups have been maltreated in so many ways.  For the musical to have legs, the question is whether the universality of the minority plight can overcome the narrow geographical focus of the issue.

Every Saturday Night: A Harlem of the West Musical with music and lyrics by Danny Duncan and book by Michael Gene Sullivan and Danny Duncan is produced by San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Company and appears at Strand Theater, 1127 Market Street, San Francisco, CA through November 1, 2026.

Other than Idomeneo, Abduction from the Seraglio (Die Entführung aus dem Serail) is Mozart’s earliest composed “opera” that remains in the repertoire.  However, it is really a classic singspiel with a considerable amount of dialog.  A vital role, the Pasha Selim, is even a completely spoken role, though performed by the accomplished bass Kirk Eichelberger.  As many deficiencies as bedevil this piece, it works on its own terms, as an engaging narrative with beautiful and challenging music.  West Bay Opera has produced a captivating version of the work.

The opera largely concerns the clash of European and Middle Eastern values.  Three Europeans who were captured by pirates have been sold to the Turkish Pasha Selim, whose factotum Osmin, actually the chaperone of the Pasha’s harem, often acts as his gatekeeper.  Belmonte, the Spanish fiancé of Konstanze, one of the captives, arrives in search of her.  Belmonte engages with the ill-tempered Osmin, who provides resistance rather than assistance.

Osmin is stereotyped as a Muslim who holds Europeans in low opinion and treats them accordingly. Conversely, the libretto depicts the Pasha kindly, as he refrains from forcing himself on Konstanze, even though he is greatly attracted to her and could simply command that she accept his advances.  The action of course centers on the efforts to free the prisoners from the grasp of Pasha, and ends with some interesting, if improbable, twists.  Note that the composer and librettist’s (Gottlieb Stephanie) deference to the Pasha flies in the face of Austrian antipathy toward Turks as the Ottomans had twice sieged Vienna, most recently a century before the opera.

Abduction opens with a lively and familiar overture that foretells some of the themes that follow.  In addition to traditional Baroque music, Mozart also introduces some Turkish musical idioms that enrich the score.

The young composer did present challenges for lead principals, which each surmounts.  Michelle Allie Drever is a wonderful Konstanze.  Drever displays a penetrating and mellifluous voice.  Her Act 1 reflective aria “Ach ich liebte, war so glüchlich!” (“Ah, I was in love, I was so happy”) is the apotheosis of virtuosity – full of sparkling coloratura riffs, leaps, and roller-coaster arpeggios.

Yet, her Act 2 aria “Marten aller Arten” (“Tortures of every kind”), in expectation of the degradation she faces, is considered even more difficult.  Why?  Not only is the aria itself a demanding eight-minute ordeal, but it comes on the heels of a lead-in eight-minute aria, testing the endurance of the soprano singing the role.  Drever nails it as well.  Mozart would never again demand 16 minutes of solo singing by a single artist with only a minor break.

Osmin, acts as the antagonist, and Casey Germain is a fine exemplar.  The bass voice must be able to sing tunefully with rich darkness in the mid and upper ranges but must also be able to plumb the depths.  Osmin’s role demands the full gamut of the bass’s voice, and Germain responds.  His memorable Act 3 aria when he ponders besting his enemies “Oh, wie will ich triumphieren” (“How triumphant I shall be”) descends to the basso profundo range to a low D.  Like most basses, Germain loses amplitude at that level, but he is impressively true and clear.

Our hero Belmonte comes to free Konstanze along with two servants.  Hak Soo Kim portrays Belmonte and delivers a warm, seemingly relaxed tenor voice.  He holds the long notes with glee and excels in all of his arias, the most notable being the beautiful ode to lovers’ reunion “Wenn der Freude Tränen fliessen” (“When tears of joy flow”). 

The principal cast is limited to five singing parts.  The remaining two are servants Blonde (soprano Lora Bashmakian) and Pedrillo (tenor Caleb Alexander), both of whom shine in their solos.  In addition to fine arias, the composer has crafted wonderful (almost obligatory at that time) act-ending ensembles with a fine trio ending Act 1 and a quartet of two loving couples ending Act 2.

While the opera and this particular production are delightful, the work is not without weaknesses, starting with its reliance on the spoken word which disrupts the flow of the piece. Another is repetition in both music and lyrics.  For those familiar with the movie Amadeus, you’ll recall that Emperor Joseph II questioned Mozart whether there weren’t too many notes in this opera, to which Mozart replied that each one is needed.  I would agree with the emperor.

Much of the singing takes place in the stand-and-deliver style that doesn’t integrate well with the action.  Nonetheless, in Abduction we hear music that anticipates the mature Mozart in his most polished later works that would make him one of the greatest opera composers of all time.

Finally, this production is visually appealing with striking costumery (Callie Floor) and set design (Peter Crompton) heavily aided by projections.  As always, Maestro José Luis Moscovich conducts the orchestra with great panache.

The Abduction from the Seraglio, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart with libretto by Gottlieb Stephanie, is produced by West Bay Opera and is performed at Lucie Stern Theatre, 1305 Middlefield Road, Palo Alto, CA through October 18, 2026.

‘Tis the season of ghosts and ghouls and witches and such with the celebrations of Halloween and Dias de los Muertos upon us.  So the interest in supernatural lore on stage is no surprise, which includes at least three plays about Dracula currently haunting Bay Area theaters.  TheatreWorks Silicon Valley offers its take on Steven Dietz’s adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula with a stunning visual and aural presentation directed by Giovanna Sardelli that will put a fright into some.

What is it about the human condition that draws us to horrible events?  Why the fascination with the likes of every possible violent trauma from train wrecks to axe murders?  Some evidence suggests that times of uncertainty and angst, like now, promote interest in horror and the occult.  Perhaps the attraction to blood-sucking human vampires is the idea that it is spine-tingling scary, but it couldn’t really happen.  It couldn’t – right?

Most theater goers will already be familiar with the basic premise of the play.  The scene is turn-of-the-(20^th)-century England.  Apparently, Transylvanian blood has lost its appeal, and Count Dracula seeks new pastures.  Dracula himself is a relatively lesser character in the narrative, as it’s important first to establish his victims as people we care about before he sucks their blood and transforms them into the undead…

The most important production decision for a play of this sort is the tone to be set.  Many viewers will expect campiness emphasized by Count Dracula’s inauthentic, but oft-repeated signature line “I vant…to suck…your blood.”  Let it be noted that blood sucking does occur but without quite that fanfare.  Scott Coopwood’s Dracula is much more reserved with the effort to create more drama and horror than laughter, but with the result of a less dynamic character.   Notwithstanding, his garish costumery and penchant for gobbling the necks of the unsuspecting does set him apart from your typical Victorian gentleman…..

Per agreement with Talkin’ Broadway, my complete reviews of South Bay and Peninsula theater for the remainder of the year will appear in full on its site. Please continue at:

San Jose/Silicon Valley – “Dracula” – 10/13/26

Dracula runs through November 1, 2026 at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro Street, Mountain View, CA. For information and tickets please visit https://theatreworks.org.

For those of you who desperately need to get onto other things (?!), I’ll give my verdict first before discussing the interesting aspects of this opera.  Yes, Suor Angelica is among the greatest one-act operas in the canon, and Livermore Valley Opera has crafted a sterling production that reveals its numerous assets.

Giacomo Puccini hatched the idea of composing three one-act operas to be performed in specified order in one evening.  While the first, the brooding and violent Il Tabarro, was already formed, Puccini enlisted librettist Giovacchino Forzano to write this one, as well as what became the breakout hit, the sparkling comic opera Gianni Schicchi.  However, the three operas lack a common thread or compelling reason to be performed together.  What’s more, they present such divergent casting and staging demands that only the biggest opera companies can do them justice in a single program, and then, with what artistic purpose?  What was Puccini thinking?

Il Trittico (“The Triptych”), as they are known, premiered at the Metropolitan Opera in 1918.  From the outset, many American critics disparaged Suor Angelica.  Since the three operas demanded commitment to a long evening, many productions soon after dropped this most criticized one, and the stain has somewhat followed this brilliant vignette of life in the convent.

However, these early reviews deserve their own criticism.  Note that predominantly non-Catholic societies, starting with the U.S., may have balked at an opera about nuns.  Also, while this opera has an all-female cast, all critics of the era were male and accustomed to male domination in all contexts.  Perhaps if the critics had set their testosterone and religious beliefs aside, they could have accepted Suor Angelica as a bright beam of devotion, morality, redemption, and tradition, but that notion seemed to be beyond their grasp.

Puccini composed four war-horse operas, among the most performed world-wide, each having successions of one popular set piece after another.  Suor Angelica lacks that level of familiarity, but the music throughout is typical of its composer’s – rich, lush, and melodic.  Moreover, it does have as its touchstone the stunningly beautiful and achingly heart-rending aria “Senza Mamma” (“Without Mother”).  Ann Toomey is Angelica, and the soprano’s “Senza Mamma” exhibits every painful shred of deep emotion, vocal range, and chilling power demanded by this stellar and haunting aria.

The opera’s libretto breaks down into discrete segments, with the music adeptly responding to prevailing topics and emotions, whether prayers, recreation, or discussion of nuptials.  One of the most distinctive is when Angelica is asked by the Badessa (Abbess) and in front of the other nuns to declare what she misses.  She lies and says “nothing.”  This produces a musical chatter of gossip, as the sisters know that she yearns to hear from her guardian who hasn’t communicated in seven years.

Angelica came from a distinguished family and was forced into the convent by her guardian, the Zia Principessa (Princess Aunt), as punishment for having a child out of wedlock.  Of course, this practice seems alien and irrelevant to our society today where nearly half of children are now born outside of marriage.

The central event which is telegraphed by the tragic Angelica’s lie is a visit from the Principessa.  Angelica has long subjugated her wants to those of the convent but is now asked to make another, permanent sacrifice.  The Principessa is an exceptionally well-crafted role that could not be more suited to contralto Sara Couden.  In a few short minutes, Couden captures the imperious, self-serving Principessa, disrupting what little peace Angelica possesses.  Couden’s potent, deep throttle voice resonates to the rafters and drips with authority in a vivid and highly memorable performance.

Stage Director Annalisa Winberg leads the artistic contributions, and though Puccini was noted as providing copious stage directions, Winberg does come up with some interesting interpretations outside of the libretto.  One particular blocking sequence involves the Principessa whose dominance over Angelica is clearly displayed as she backs her niece across the stage.

The action plays out in the convent courtyard, beautifully conceived by Set and Video Designer Jean-François Revon.  A nice touch in the scenic design is above the convent walls where projected ominous clouds move irresistibly and portentously toward the courtyard.

Apart from the central crisis, the composer and librettist also manage to introduce several other nuns from the sisterhood engaging in daily life.  Despite brief exposures and the constancy and shrouding of the habits they wear, they are rendered as having distinct personalities.  The high tessitura from the absence of male voices and the consistency of black-and-white religious garb, with the exception of the Principessa, might seem monotonous, but in this 60 minutes makes it more riveting.

Some of the voices under the nuns’ veils are quite good.  But at this performance, there were multiple instances of faint vocal projection until the visitation, including from Toomey, who perhaps was saving her voice for the later fireworks which she navigated so well.  Music Director Alexander Katsman leads the orchestra, which performs admirably in this one as it should, being one of Katsman’s favorite operas.

I would be remiss not to mention the sad and unexpected passing of Livermore Valley Opera’s longtime Artistic Director Erie Mills.  To add to her notable career as an international opera star, she was instrumental in making LVO into a highly-respected regional opera company.  Erie was responsible for organizing the 2026-7 season’s productions, and her choices to give exposure to two fine but less performed Puccini operas is greatly appreciated – La Fanciulla del West, to be performed in February-March being the other.  Erie will be sadly missed.

Suor Angelica, composed by Giacomo Puccini with libretto by Giovacchino Forzano is produced by Livermore Valley Opera and plays at Bankhead Theater, 2400 First Street, Livermore, CA through October 11, 2026.