Arts & Entertainment
A spellbinding priestess
Angela Meade’s ‘Norma’ proves she’s up to the task

Rising operatic star Angela Meade takes on the titular role of Vincenzo Bellini’s operatic masterpiece ‘Norma.’ (Photo by Scott Suchman)
‘Norma’
Until March 24
Kennedy Center Opera House
2700 F St., NW
Tickets: $25-$300
202-467-4600
kennedy-center.org
As Angela Meade, star of Washington National Opera’s new production of “Norma,” stepped onstage Saturday night, a palpable tension hovered over the opera house. The Druid high priestess is the role of a lifetime, and Meade was standing in the historic shadow of the greats who made this character their own — Maria Callas and Joan Sutherland spring most readily to mind. Yet from Meade’s first commanding lines to a ravishing pianissimo, she quickly demonstrated that this was to be a night to remember.
DC Theater audiences are the first to see Meade in a full production of the opera, and while one can make minor quibbles (coloratura could be more fluid, a little more vocal fire would have been nice and that pianissimo was a touch overused), she just might become the next great Norma. Her acting skills, both vocal and physical, drew the audience into rapture during the most intimate moments, whether contemplating killing her own children or taking to the pyre in an act of defiant truth.
The rising star soprano was well served by an impactful production created by theater and opera director Anne Bogart (a lesbian). A raked stage was flanked by two structures — one the organic wooden temple of the Druid priestesses and the other the cold, patriarchal fortress of the invading Romans. Between them was a sunken circle, a sacred ground invoked by Norma and others as sanctuary and emotional crucible.
Norma ends up in a complicated love triangle with the Roman general Pollione (Puerto Rican tenor Rafael Davila) and a lower-level acolyte Adalgisa (legendary American mezzo-soprano Dolora Zajick). The 60-year-old Zajick confidently commanded the dramatic and vocal line of the unwitting rival, and she let fly a few delicate high notes that one didn’t think possible for a mezzo. Some of the compositional peaks of the opera include two duets for the women, whose voices were a perfect blend, alternately evoking gentle ripples of water and torrents of emotional heartbreak.
Although “Norma” relies ultimately on its women, the men are represented strongly in two principal roles and a chorus of Druid warriors (well sung by the WNO chorus). Norma’s father and chief priest Oroveso, as sung by Russian bass Dmitry Belosselskiy, was an austerely commanding presence with a deeply resonant bass possessed of heroic overtones. His spear-shaking rage, however, was touchingly softened at the opera’s end upon hearing the pleas of his ruined daughter. Belosselskiy’s acting here was none of the fist-biting nonsense that has become the stuff of opera parody; he was a man broken open by unforeseen circumstances.
The frat-boy Pollione is no easy sell, and while Davila bestowed the fickle general with human complexity, he came up short shrift vocally. Phrasing was splendidly Italianate, but his tone sounded congested, with top notes muddled as if he were singing under water. Part of what elevates the end of act one into a heart-throbbing climax is a heroic tenor who rails against Norma, yet here, he was just a whiney schoolboy.
Twenty-nine year-old Italian conductor Daniele Rustioni made his WNO debut on Saturday night and his was an exciting reading of a score many consider moldering. From the first notes, he firmly established the tension of the evening to come and the frenetic emotions of its leading characters were often reflected in the quick and crisp tempos of the orchestra. The players sounded spot-on, with a perfect balance amongst themselves and with the singers. As with Meade, Rustioni glossed over some elements that will probably iron themselves out with the passage of time (certain dramatic moments ask for a longer hold, drawing out the pathos of a confession or desperate entreaty).
The greatest benchmark for any performing artist’s work is when the piece itself becomes exalted and with this production of “Norma,” Bellini’s masterwork soared high on a wave of well-deserved adulation. One hopes that under the new artistic directorship of Francesca Zambello (who stood at the doors of the opera house on Saturday night graciously welcoming patrons) next season promises similarly thrilling nights at the opera.
Photos
PHOTOS: Cheers to Out Sports!
LGBTQ homeless youth services organization honors local leagues
The Wanda Alston Foundation held a “Cheers to Out Sports!” event at the DC LGBTQ+ Community Center on Monday, Nov. 17. The event was held by the LGBTQ homeless youth services organization to honor local LGBTQ sports leagues for their philanthropic support.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)












Theater
Gay, straight men bond over finances, single fatherhood in Mosaic show
‘A Case for the Existence of God’ set in rural Idaho
‘A Case for the Existence of God’
Through Dec. 7
Mosaic Theater Company at Atlas Performing Arts Center
1333 H St,, N.E.
Tickets: $42- $56 (discounts available)
Mosaictheater.org
With each new work, Samuel D. Hunter has become more interested in “big ideas thriving in small containers.” Increasingly, he likes to write plays with very few characters and simple sets.
His 2022 two-person play, “A Case for the Existence of God,” (now running at Mosaic Theater Company) is one of these minimal pieces. “Audiences might come in expecting a theological debate set in the Vatican, but instead it’s two guys sitting in a cubicle discussing terms on a bank loan,” says Hunter (who goes by Sam).
Like many of his plays, this award-winning work unfolds in rural Idaho, where Hunter was raised. Two men, one gay, the other straight (here played by local out actors Jaysen Wright and Lee Osorio, respectively), bond over financial insecurity and the joys and challenges of single fatherhood.
His newest success is similarly reduced. Touted as Hunter’s long-awaited Broadway debut, “Little Bear Ridge Road” features Laurie Metcalf as Sarah and Micah Stock as Ethan, Sarah’s estranged gay nephew who returns to Idaho from Seattle to settle his late father’s estate. At 90 minutes, the play’s cast is small and the setting consists only of a reclining couch in a dark void.
“I was very content to be making theater off-Broadway. It’s where most of my favorite plays live.” However, Hunter, 44, does admit to feeling validated: “Over the years there’s been this notion that my plays are too small or too Idaho for Broadway. I feel that’s misguided, so now with my play at the Booth Theatre, my favorite Broadway house, it kind of proves that.”
With “smaller” plays not necessarily the rage on Broadway, he’s pleased that he made it there without compromising the kind of plays he likes to write.
Hunter first spoke with The Blade in 2011 when his “A Bright Day in Boise” made its area premiere at Woolly Mammoth Theatre. At the time, he was still described as an up-and-coming playwright though he’d already nabbed an Obie for this dark comedy about seeking Rapture in an Idaho Hobby Lobby.
In 2015, his “The Whale,” played at Rep Stage starring out actor Michael Russotto as Charlie, a morbidly obese gay English teacher struggling with depression. Hunter wrote the screenplay for the subsequent 2022 film which garnered an Oscar for actor Brendan Frazier.
The year leading up to the Academy Awards ceremony was filled with travel, press, and festivals. It was a heady time. Because of the success of the film there are a lot of non-English language productions of “The Whale” taking place all over the world.
“I don’t see them all,” says Hunter. “When I was invited to Rio de Janeiro to see the Portuguese language premiere, I went. That wasn’t a hard thing to say yes to.”
And then, in the middle of the film hoopla, says Hunter, director Joe Mantello and Laurie (Metcalf) approached him about writing a play for them to do at Steppenwolf Theatre in Chicago before it moved to Broadway. He’d never met either of them, and they gave me carte blanche.
Early in his career, Hunter didn’t write gay characters, but after meeting his husband in grad school at the University of Iowa that changed, he began to explore that part of his life in his plays, including splashes of himself in his queer characters without making it autobiographical.
He says, “Whether it’s myself or other people, I’ve never wholesale lifted a character or story from real life and plopped it in a play. I need to breathing room to figure out characters on their own terms. It wouldn’t be fair to ask an actor to play me.”
His queer characters made his plays more artistically successful, adds Hunter. “I started putting something of myself on the line. For whatever reason, and it was probably internalized homophobia, I had been holding back.”
Though his work is personal, once he hands it over for production, it quickly becomes collaborative, which is the reason he prefers plays compared to other forms of writing.
“There’s a certain amount of detachment. I become just another member of the team that’s servicing the story. There’s a joy in that.”
Hunter is married to influential dramaturg John Baker. They live in New York City with their little girl, and two dogs. As a dad, Hunter believes despite what’s happening in the world, it’s your job to be hopeful.
“Hope is the harder choice to make. I do it not only for my daughter but because cynicism masquerades as intelligence which I find lazy. Having hope is the better way to live.”
Books
New book highlights long history of LGBTQ oppression
‘Queer Enlightenments’ a reminder that inequality is nothing new
‘Queer Enlightenments: A Hidden History of Lovers, Lawbreakers, and Homemakers’
By Anthony Delaney
c.2025, Atlantic Monthly Press
$30/352 pages
It had to start somewhere.
The discrimination, the persecution, the inequality, it had a launching point. Can you put your finger on that date? Was it DADT, the 1950s scare, the Kinsey report? Certainly not Stonewall, or the Marriage Act, so where did it come from? In “Queer Enlightenments: A Hidden History of Lovers, Lawbreakers, and Homemakers” by Anthony Delaney, the story of queer oppression goes back so much farther.

The first recorded instance of the word “homosexual” arrived loudly in the spring of 1868: Hungarian journalist Károly Mária Kerthbeny wrote a letter to German activist Karl Heinrich Ulrichs referring to “same-sex-attracted men” with that new term. Many people believe that this was the “invention” of homosexuality, but Delaney begs to differ.
“Queer histories run much deeper than this…” he says.
Take, for instance, the delightfully named Mrs. Clap, who ran a “House” in London in which men often met other men for “marriage.” On a February night in 1726, Mrs. Clap’s House was raided and 40 men were taken to jail, where they were put in filthy, dank confines until the courts could get to them. One of the men was ultimately hanged for the crime of sodomy. Mrs. Clap was pilloried, and then disappeared from history.
William Pulteney had a duel with John, Lord Hervey, over insults flung at the latter man. The truth: Hervey was, in fact, openly a “sodomite.” He and his companion, Ste Fox had even set up a home together.
Adopting your lover was common in 18th century London, in order to make him a legal heir. In about 1769, rumors spread that the lovely female spy, the Chevalier d’Éon, was actually Charles d’Éon de Beaumont, a man who had been dressing in feminine attire for much longer than his espionage career. Anne Lister’s masculine demeanor often left her an “outcast.” And as George Wilson brought his bride to North American in 1821, he confessed to loving men, thus becoming North America’s first official “female husband.”
Sometimes, history can be quite dry. So can author Anthony Delaney’s wit. Together, though, they work well inside “Queer Enlightenments.”
Undoubtedly, you well know that inequality and persecution aren’t new things – which Delaney underscores here – and queer ancestors faced them head-on, just as people do today. The twist, in this often-chilling narrative, is that punishments levied on 18th- and 19th-century queer folk was harsher and Delaney doesn’t soften those accounts for readers. Read this book, and you’re platform-side at a hanging, in jail with an ally, at a duel with a complicated basis, embedded in a King’s court, and on a ship with a man whose new wife generously ignored his secret. Most of these tales are set in Great Britain and Europe, but North America features some, and Delaney wraps up thing nicely for today’s relevance.
While there’s some amusing side-eyeing in this book, “Queer Enlightenments” is a bit on the heavy side, so give yourself time with it. Pick it up, though, and you’ll love it til the end.
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