Cherie Gil: A revelation

Many years ago, when the eminent Metropolitan Opera tenor Jan Peerce performed in Manila, I asked him in private, “How would you compare Maria Callas with Renata Tebaldi?” Without the slightest hesitation, he replied: “Vocally, Tebaldi is the better singer; Callas, the better actress. Tebaldi has a beautiful voice but it is Callas who moves the listener. If I were to record their respective performances on a graph, you’d see an almost straight line reflecting those of Tebaldi — she’s consistently in fine vocal form; In the case of Callas, you’d see an erratic graph, with the line constantly going up and down in either sharp ascent or equally sharp descent. But what a great actress! When she waves that red scarf at you while she bemoans her fate as Violeta, you can’t help feeling a catch in your throat.”

Terrence McNally’s “Master Class”, last staged on Oct. 25 at the RCBC theater, captured the fiery, explosive temperament and passion for perfection Peerce implied — traits which Cherie Gil magnificently conveyed. What a revelation Cherie turned out to be!

Tall, svelte, beautiful, she moved about with absolute confidence, poise and assurance, portraying the incomparable Callas — fiery, temperamental, tyrannical, impulsive — in her own fashion, while personifying hauteur and arrogance in appraising her abject, aspiring students. (Incidentally, Callas’ observations make a fount of valuable lessons for all singers.)

From the program notes, one does not gather that McNally had actually met Callas or observed her in a master class in Jiulliard. What one might presume is that the play is wholly a product of his imagination, inspired by study, research and readings on so widely acclaimed a diva as Callas. One might also validly assume that in the real master class, Callas demonstrated her instructions by singing, thus showing up a student’s deficiencies in the process.

In the play, Cherie did not sing a note as she scolded, screamed, demeaned the sopranos who were supposedly giving a dismal performance. Yet, on stage in obvious contradiction to Callas’ tart, abrasive comments, the singers — Florence Aguilar who, as Sophie, sang an aria from La Sonambula and, more particularly, Deeda Barretto, who, as Sharon, sang an aria from Verdi’s Macbeth — were highly impressive and hardly deserving of the insults Callas hurled at them. The listeners kept reminding themselves they were watching a play: Callas was not actually illustrating how she wanted the students to sing.

The discrepancy was neither Cherie’s nor the singers’ fault. It was called for because no audience can stand mediocrity. Aguilar’s and Barretto’s gratifying performance remained to be admired. Barretto’s powerful voice soared; the complex, florid notes were rendered with astounding skill.

To point up a “discrepancy” in the reverse, the printed synopsis told us that the tenor — here portrayed by baritone Jack Salud who, as Anthony, interpreted an aria in Tosca — moved Callas to tears. Salud is a talented, engaging baritone but he was not anywhere near to moving Callas or the audience to tears.

The various episodes came together smoothly and seamlessly, owing to the sure, perceptive, analytic direction of Michael Williams, himself a seasoned, considerably gifted actor.

Cherie’s superbly compelling, magnetic portrayal was profoundly moving. She delivered the overwhelmingly challenging, virtual monologue as though the lines were her own. Calling herself “coarse and vulgar”, she related her tragic love life. During the interludes provided by such personal reminiscences, stills of her triumphs at La Scala were shown on the screen, her glorious voice floating in the distance. Plumbing the depths of her miseries, she revealed shattered illusions — to a standing ovation.

Deejay Manuel Javier was the thoroughly dependable piano accompanist.

Congratulations to Karla Gutierrez and the Philippine Opera Co. for presenting “Master Class”.