The Summer Place is a new opera exploring the history, current state, and legacy of Chautauqua Institution. Co-commissioned by Chautauqua Opera Company and Opera Memphis, our readings of The Summer Place will feature two parts of this composite opera: A.E. Reverie and Love, Loss and the Century Upon Us. Thanks to the generous support of the Chautauqua Opera Guild, these two works will receive their premieres in the coming year to honor the sesquicentennial of Chautauqua Institution. 

Co-Commissioned by Chautauqua Opera and Opera Memphis

Music by Kamala Sankaram

Libretto by Jerre Dye

Uma Singh, Soprano

Setting:
1929. Amelia Earhart has arrived in Chautauqua. After a full day of speaking, meeting, greeting, Amelia has retired to her room at the Athenaeum Hotel for a night's sleep. Though Amelia rests, a young woman across the way cannot.

Libretto by Jerre Dye 

Day long gone. 
Night pours in. 
The sound of wings inside my head 
just will not stop. 
Will not stop. 
How could a body sleep at all,
knowing that you are somewhere near. 
You’re so near.
And I wonder...
Are you restless too?
Just like me?
Me... like you...
Like you... 

Is that a light? 
It’s just me. 
I need... a glass of water. 
Go back to sleep. 

To think that you are right up there! 
In THAT hotel! 
Across THIS lawn! 
You are so near. 
An Athenaeum upper room,  
to stay “a day or two,” they say, 
before you’re off into the sky 
to fly away to God knows where... 
to God knows where! 

If I could catch just one more glimpse... 
Even just a silhouette of you up there
inside your hotel window, 
I think that I might faint. 
 

When you touched down upon that shore 
I thought my heart might leap right out. 
And then this afternoon... 
The Ampitheatre... 
Your tales of Trans-Atlantic flight have set me in a tailspin since 
and I can’t think of anything or anyone but you: 
 
Amelia...Amelia...Amelia...  
Amelia...Amelia...Amelia...  
Amelia! 
Ahhh ahhhh! 

That’s it! I’ll find a little rock... 
and toss it up... 
a "click" upon your window pane 
to let you know I’m down below here looking up... 
looking up... 

Do you dare? 
No... I can’t 

Some girls say their prayers at night
and sit upright and bat their eyes like Kewpie dolls 
with Ps and Qs for all to see, 
but that’s not me. 
That’s not me. 

Some girls, they sew and knit and fuss 
and fit inside the world just so,  
and rest their hands upon their laps, 
their futures mapped without consent, 
meant simply to be well-behaved, 
enslaved for life by circumstance, 
a game of chance, 
the great expanse alluding them, 
evading them, 
but that’s not me. 
That’s not me! 

When I was a little girl, 
knees all skinned, tangled hair, 
I’d hide inside the summer grass. 
and watch the grand parade of clouds... 
a show way-up there, framed in blue, 
gentle fingers tracing shapes
of all the clouds that stayed a while... 
an elephant, 
a circus clown, 
hosts of angels looking down. 
I’d lie there sometimes all day long  
until the winds dispersed the white, 
erase the visions from my sight  
to leave me dreaming all alone... 
all alone... all alone. 

“Head in the clouds!” Father says. 
As if it were a SIN to dream! 
To set the mind towards reverie! 
Pull from azure something true! 
Mystery... Veracity! 
A rendezvous with destiny! 

Look for answers in the sky, 
just like the scripture tells me to! 
And you did too! You do too! 
I need to go away with you
for dinners with some dignitaries,
ticker tapes and tea and talks
with kings and queens of foreign shores. 
Please, take me with you! 
TAKE ME WITH YOU! 
Lift me up into the sky,
where all the fearless long to go. 

Host of angels looking down. 
Not just above, but all around. 
All around you... all around us. 
Amelia... Amelia! 

Co-Commissioned by Chautauqua Opera and Opera Memphis
Music by Rene Orth

Libretto by Jerre Dye

SarahAnn Duffy, Mezzo-Soprano

Nathan Savant, Baritone

Setting:

Summer in Chautauqua. Minutes before dusk. Just as the century turns. A young couple strolls across the grounds in white linen, near the lake shore, just below The Athenaeum Hotel. A stern looking chaperone follows a few yards behind. The date was arranged. She clearly did not sign on for this.

Libretto by Jerre Dye 

Young Man- Thank you for accompanying me this evening for our little stroll.
I thought it might be nice to watch the Athenaeum come to life.
Electric light! A miracle!
With Thomas Edison HIMSELF sitting just inside!
Imagine!

Young Woman- Lucky us. 

Young Man- Lucky day! 
Quite a lucky century! 
Edison has changed the world! 

Young Woman- Perhaps we’ll catch a glimpse of Thomas
patting himself upon his back. 

That was terse. Pardon me. 
I’m grateful for your invitation. 
A stroll at dusk. Just the thing. 
The lake at sunset sings.

Young Man- Beautiful. So beautiful.
 
Young Woman- the lake... eventide upon the water
azure, crimson, amber billow transmutations infinite. 
 
Young Man- On all matters beautiful I certainly defer to you. 
Chautauqua Lake was nothing much 
until you stepped upon its shore.  

Over there. Beyond that oak. 
How 'bout we find a resting spot? 
Ideal vista for the show. 
 
Young Woman- "Ideal", if you like those things. 
 
Young Man- I take it you are not impressed by Edison’s great masterpiece. 
 
Young Woman- Electricity a masterpiece? 
How does that square with Mozart, sir? 
Beethoven? 
Chopin? 
 
Young Man- I'd say quite well to tell the truth.
I never met a body yet that didn’t like electricity. 

Young Woman- Like it? Sure. 
Dazzled? No.  
Modernity is masterful,
but I shall miss my candlelight... the lamplight.
Dancing shadows mystery
Light that draws one close.
I do fear, (forgive the pun)
we’re blinded by the light, sometimes.
Blinded by our blasted progress. 

Young Man- A tad bit balmy, don’t you think? 
 
Young Woman- A subject change... 
How apropos. 
 
Young Man- I hate to be indelicate, but 
my suit coat is drenched clean-through. 
Would it be rude if I removed it? 
 
Young Woman- Would that us ladies have that choice? 
Other men have shed their coats,
but my watchful Aunt might disagree. 
 
Young Man- Would your Aunt think me a brute? 

Young Woman-  That grizzled look’s an attribute.  
Her face, I fear, was drawn that way... 
perpetual, complete disdain. 
 
Young Man- She watches like a hawk. 

Young Woman- Nothing gets past Bernie dear. 
When Father sends in Aunt Bernice, 
he’s sending in the cavalry. 
 
Young Man- A terrifying chaperone.

Young Woman- You should see her at canasta. 

I wouldn’t fret. Not overly. 
You’ve several yards to stroll, just yet, 
to prove yourself the gentleman. 
 
Young Man- Perhaps I’ll keep my jacket on. 
 
Young Woman- A gentleman that takes advice. 
Virtues vast and varied, sir. 

Young Man- You're awful smart... 
And awful bright.  

Young Woman- And AWFULLY immune to flattery. 
Which sometimes makes for AWFUL dates
with AWFULLY rude, presumptuous men. 
Present company excluded. 
You think I am difficult. 
 
Young Man- No, I... 

Young Woman- Most men prefer I hold my tongue. 

Young Man- To hold one’s tongue is counterfeit. 
I’m not fond of counterfeit. 

Young Woman- Except, of course, electric light. 
Counterfeit, right to the core.

Your optimism is appealing. 
But... don’t you wonder...
“what of the night?”
The Moon, the stars,
the candlelight?
Will Thomas Alva Edison make all that magic disappear?
All that magic disappearing...
I think that it might break my heart.
Don’t you fear the future, somewhat? 

Young Man- Honestly? 

Young Woman- Honestly. 
 
Young Man- Honestly... I do.
Forever falling forward. 

Young Woman- Forever stumbling forward. 

Young Man- I also think we’re fortunate to live in such a time as this. 

Though progress can be dizzying. 

Young Woman- Too fast.
Young Man- Such change
Young Woman- So fast. 

Young Man- Miraculous! 

Both- What a thing to see unfold.
Young Man- Before your eyes.
Young Woman- Overwhelming. 

Young Man- Magnificent. 
The future could... 
Young Woman- The future might... 
 
Both- The future could be
beautiful.

Take my breath away! 
 
Young Man- What of the future do you fear?  

Young Woman- Extravagance is a distraction. 
Progress has a price. 
I fear we will not know the cost 
‘til what is lost is lost for good. 
Darkness... just a memory.
It rather makes me melancholy. 

Both- Beautiful, but melancholy. 

Young Woman- Listen!
Can you hear that? 
 
Young Man- Music 
Young Woman- Tumbling towards the shore. 
Young Man- Music 
Young Woman- The violins get caught somehow. 
 Both- Inside the trees 
 
Young Woman- and linger there. 

Young Man- Not unlike the electric light. 

Young Woman- Touché. 
 
Both- Two worlds collide...
two worlds collide. 
 
Young Woman- Music 
 
Young Man- Electricity 

Young Woman- Electricity and doleful strings 
 
Young Man- past and present 
 
Young Woman- old meets new 

Both- The century collides in you 
The century collides  
The century collides for you. 
The century collides... collides

Young Woman- Music, 
holy in itself, 
calls out to holy...
Young Man- like to like 
 
Both- to light our path from dusk to night 
and carry us ‘til dawn.
carry us ‘til dawn,
carry us ‘til dawn.

Young Man- and on
Both- Carry us 'til dawn.

Leadership and Staff: 

General & Artistic Director: Steven Osgood 
Managing Director: Daniel Grambow 
Arts Marketing Specialist: Makayla Santiago-Froebel 
Music Administrator/Chorus Master: Carol Rausch 
Director of Production: Michael Baumgarten 
Company Manager: Helen Hassinger 
House Manager: Sarah Brown-Millspaw 
Office Manager: Julia Gorske 
Company Scheduler: Rick Hoffenberg 
Arts Marketing Associate: Brianne Lugo 
Opera Guild Intern: X’Zaya Ivy

Music Staff: 

Cover Conductor: Emily Urbanek 
Coach/Pianists: Dorothy Randall, Miriam Charney, Allison Voth, Nathaniel LaNasa