Arts & Entertainment
A gem loses its luster
Despite a magnificent star, ‘Lescaut’ needs some polishing

Patricia Racette makes her role debut in ‘Manon Lescaut’ for Washington National Opera. (Photo by Scott Suchman; courtesy of Washington National Opera)
‘Manon Lescaut’
Through March 23
Kennedy Center Opera House
2700 F St., NW
$25-$300
202-467-4600
kennedy-center.org
Opera can be an exquisite combination of art forms when done well — lush instrumentals combine with soaring vocals and engaging theatricality to create a passionate and transformative evening. That’s why the opening night of Washington National Opera’s “Manon Lescaut” was so teeth-grindingly frustrating. It polluted a sumptuous opera with high school-level missteps in directing, performance and conducting.
Rightfully lauded soprano Patricia Racette (a lesbian) made her role debut as Manon, and as expected she hit it out of the park. Her ability to convey pathos, both vocally and as an actress, lifted the character out of her two-dimensionality, suggesting a true conflict between Manon’s desire for real love and her gold-digging tendencies. At opera’s end, when Racette managed as she had throughout the evening to keep us spellbound by her vocal line and dramatic heft, the young girl’s demise became a heartbreaking cautionary tale about living for anything other than love.
Too bad, then, that this remarkable artist had to battle an orchestra run amok. Puccini’s score is rife with sweeping gestures of romantic tragedy and under the baton of Philippe Auguin, the orchestra certainly, but not always wisely, matched the mood. The players sounded so intoxicated with the score that, at times, they sawed away at it drunkenly, often drowning out the principles. The duet between Manon and her lover Des Grieux, Bulgarian tenor Kamen Chanev, leaned perilously close to becoming a shouting match.
Chanev was clearly hired for his money notes, the bread-and-butter of any tenor, and here he delivered in spades. His passionately ringing high note and legato in the act three aria, “No! Pazzo son! Guardate,” would crack the heart of the most hardened opera aficionado, yet, high notes only do not a good tenor make. Often employing vocal parlor tricks to cover a lack of dynamic subtlety, the large-voiced Chanev stumbled clumsily through much of Puccini’s lyric writing. (Perhaps he should have taken phrasing cues from Raúl Melo’s stylistically charming Edmondo.)
This “Manon Lescaut,” a revival of the 2007 production, was created and directed by gay opera director John Pascoe, who also helmed Washington National Opera’s “Don Giovanni,” seen earlier this season, and 2008’s dynamic “Lucrezia Borgia.”
Some brilliant and unexpected design choices — a large bust-topped pillar transformed into a human-sized jewel box for Manon and broken palace pieces as the heroine’s final resting place — highlighted the shallow artifice of 18th-century Paris juxtaposed with the lonely end we all crawl toward.
The grand desolation of Manon, who goes from dancing in the glittering salons of Paris to dying on a windswept plain in America, is one hair’s breadth away from melodrama, and some of Pascoe’s blocking and set choices only highlighted this unfortunate tendency. Using a large scrolled page as a screen for projecting quotes from the original Manon story written in the 17th-century by Abbé Prévost, this page regularly split in two, framing the stage and suggesting a grand fairy tale. At times, the halves would draw closer together, unnecessarily highlighting a lead character’s aria in a ham-handed attempt to let the audience know this moment was important — as if the writing and performance alone couldn’t do that.
Hackneyed operatic staging threatened to turn the piece into a silent film. Des Grieux and Manon often didn’t sing to each other at all in moments of high passion, and sometimes they weren’t even near one another. During her death scene, the heroine was draped languidly in a sepulchral broken pillar, only then to sing about being in her tomb. Yeah. We got that, already.
Perhaps in the relentless march to make opera easily accessible, the production team sacrificed the delicacy and infinite emotional variations that reflect real life. Manon’s story is not so absurd in an era when people will just as easily sell their soul for a shot on reality TV as they would sell out true love for a chance to wear jewel-encrusted gowns.
Books
Love or fear flying you’ll devour ‘Why Fly’
New book chronicles a lifetime obsession with aircraft
‘Why Fly’
By Caroline Paul
c. 2026, Bloomsbury
$27.99/256 pages
Tray table folded up.
Check. Your seat is in the upright position, the airflow above your head is just the way you like it, and you’re ready to go. The flight crew is making final preparations. The lights are off and the plane is backing up. All you need now is “Why Fly” by Caroline Paul, and buckle up.

When she was very young, Paul was “obsessed” with tales of adventure, devouring accounts written by men of their derring-do. The only female adventure-seeker she knew about then was Amelia Earhart; later, she learned of other adventuresome women, including aviatrix Bessie Coleman, and Paul was transfixed.
Time passed; Paul grew up to create a life of adventure all her own.
Then, the year her marriage started to fracture, she switched her obsession from general exploits to flight.
Specifically, Paul loves experimental aircraft, some of which, like her “trike,” can be made from a kit at home. Others, like Woodstock, her beloved yellow gyrocopter, are major purchases that operate under different FAA rules. All flying has rules, she says, even if it seems like it should be as freewheeling as the birds it mimics.
She loves the pre-flight checklist, which is pure anticipation as well as a series of safety measures; if only a relationship had the same ritual. Paul loves her hangar, as a place of comfort and for flight in all senses of the word. She enjoys thinking about historic tales of flying, going back before the Wright Brothers, and including a man who went aloft on a lawn chair via helium-filled weather balloons.
The mere idea that she can fly any time is like a gift to Paul.
She knows a lot of people are terrified of flying, but it’s near totally safe: generally, there’s a one in almost 14 million chance of perishing in a commercial airline disaster – although, to Paul’s embarrassment and her dismay, it’s possible that both the smallest planes and the grandest loves might crash.
If you’re a fan of flying, you know what to do here. If you fear it, pry your fingernails off the armrests, take a deep breath, and head to the shelves. “Why Fly” might help you change your mind.
It’s not just that author Caroline Paul enjoys being airborne, and she tells you. It’s not that she’s honest in her explanations of being in love and being aloft. It’s the meditative aura you’ll get as you’re reading this book that makes it so appealing, despite the sometimes technical information that may flummox you between the Zen-ness. It’s not overwhelming; it mixes well with the history Paul includes, biographies, the science, heartbreak, and exciting tales of adventure and risk, but it’s there. Readers and romantics who love the outdoors, can’t resist a good mountain, and crave activity won’t mind it, though, not at all.
If you own a plane – or want to – you’ll want this book, too. It’s a great waiting-at-the-airport tale, or a tuck-in-your-suitcase-for-later read. Find “Why Fly” and you’ll see that it’s an upright kind of book.
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Theater
Out actor Kevin Cahoon on starring role in ‘Chez Joey’
Arena production adapted from Broadway classic ‘Pal Joey’
‘Chez Joey’
Through March 15
Arena Stage
1101 Sixth St., S.W.
Tickets start at $93
Arenastage.org
As Melvin Snyder in the new musical “Chez Joey,” out actor Kevin Cahoon plays a showbiz society columnist who goes by the name Mrs. Knickerbocker. He functions as a sort of liaison between café society and Chicago’s Black jazz scene circa 1940s. It’s a fun part replete with varied insights, music, and dance.
“Chez Joey” is adapted from the Broadway classic “Pal Joey” by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart. It’s inspired by John O’Hara’s stories based on the exploits of a small-time nightclub singer published in The New Yorker.
A warm and humorous man, Cahoon loves his work. At just six, he began his career as a rodeo clown in Houston. He won the Star Search teen division at 13 singing songs like “Some People” from “Gypsy.” He studied theater at New York University and soon after graduating set to work playing sidekicks and comedic roles.
Over the years, Cahoon has played numerous queer parts in stage productions including “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” “La Cage aux Folles,” “Rocky Horror” as well as Peanut in “Shucked,” and George the keyboardist in “The Wedding Singer,” “a sort of unicorn of its time,” says Cahoon.
Co-directed by Tony Goldwyn and the great Savion Glover, “Chez Joey” is a terrific and fun show filled with loads of talent. Its relevant new book is by Richard Lagravenese.
On a recent Monday off from work, Cahoon shared some thoughts on past and current happenings.
WASHINGTON BLADE: Is there a through line from Kevin, the six-year-old rodeo clown, to who we see now at Arena Stage?
KEVIN CAHOON: Anytime I want to land a joke in a theater piece it goes back to that rodeo clown. It doesn’t matter if it’s Arena’s intimate Kreeger Theatre or the big rodeo at the huge Houston Astrodome.
I was in the middle stadium and there was an announcer — a scene partner really. And we were doing a back and forth in hopes of getting laughs. At that young age I was trying to understand what it takes to get laughs. It’s all about timing. Every line.
BLADE: Originally, your part in “Chez Joey” Melvin was Melba who sings “Zip,” a clever woman reporter’s song. It was sort of a star feature, where they could just pop in a star in the run of “Pal Joey.”
CAHOON: That’s right. And in former versions it was played by Martha Plimpton and before her Elaine Stritch. For “Chez Joey,” we switched gender and storyline.
We attempted to do “Zip” up until two days before we had an audience at Arena. Unexpectedly they cut “Zip” and replaced it with a fun number called “I Like to Recognize the Tune,” a song more connected to the story.
BLADE: Wow. You must be a quick study.
CAHOON: Well, we’re working with a great band.
BLADE: You’ve played a lot of queer parts. Any thoughts on queer representation?
CAHOON: Oh yes, definitely. And I’ve been very lucky that I’ve had the chance to portray these characters and introduce them to the rest of the world. I feel honored.
After originating Edna, the hyena on Broadway in “The Lion King,” I left that to do “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” as standby for John Cameron Mitchell, doing one show a week for him.
Everyone thought I was crazy to leave the biggest musical of our time with a personal contract and getting paid more money that I’d ever made to get $400 a week at the downtown Jane Street Theatre in a dicey neighborhood.
At the time, I really felt like I was with cool kids. I guess I was. And I never regretted it.
BLADE: When you play new parts, do you create new backstories for the role?
CAHOON: Every single time! For Melvin, I suggested a line about chorus boys on Lakeshore Drive.
BLADE: What’s up next for Kevin Cahoon?
CAHOON: I’m about to do the New York Theatre Workshop Gala; I’ve been doing it for nine years in a row. It’s a huge job. I’ll also be producing the “Cats: The Jellicle Ball” opening on Broadway this spring; it’s a queer-centric uptown vogue ball with gay actor André de Shields reprising his role as “Old Deuteronomy.”
BLADE: There’s a huge amount of talent onstage in “Chez Joey.”
CAHOON: There is. I’m sharing a dressing room with Myles Frost who plays Joey. He won accolades for playing Michael Jackson on Broadway. We’ve become great friends. He’s a miracle to watch on stage. And Awa [Sal Secka], a D.C. local, is great. Every night the audience falls head over heels for her. When this show goes to New York, Awa will, no doubt, be a giant star.
BLADE: Do you think “Chez Joey” might be Broadway bound?
CAHOON: I have a good feeling it is. I’ve done shows out of town that have high hopes and pedigree, but don’t necessarily make it. “Chez Joey” is a small production, it’s funny, and audiences seem to love it.
The Capital Pride Alliance held the annual Pride Reveal event at The Schuyler at The Hamilton Hotel on Thursday, Feb. 26. The theme for this year’s Capital Pride was announced: “Exist. Resist. Have the audacity!”
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)























