(Photo credit: Steve Pisano)

Gelsey Bell’s opera “mɔɹnɪŋ [morning//mourning]” originally made its music theatre world premiere in January 2023 as a co-production of Beth Morrison Project’s PROTOTYPE Festival and HERE. This year, as a production of the “Angel’s Share,” a concert series that takes place at the Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn curated by Andrew Ousley of Death of Classical, Bell and her collaborators performed the opera ‘unplugged,’ in the Catacombs, for a highly anticipated three nights. To say this was a once-in-a-lifetime gathering not to have been missed is true. However, one can hope that this will be presented again, in this way, because of how undeniably evocative it is.

Celebrating Bell’s Genius

“mɔɹnɪŋ [morning//mourning]” builds upon what Bell is so brilliant at doing: being herself and uplifting her creative community. Her opera features moments where her composition becomes more than just about the music—it exemplifies her impact and legacy, making it ahead of its time.

OperaWire has previously celebrated Bell’s genius as a performer, especially in Robert Ashley’s works, including “Improvement (Don Leaves Linda)” and “Foreign Experiences.” Most recently, OperaWire noted “Bell’s knowledge and depth of wisdom when it comes to experimental opera is ever-expanding. She is someone who performs and composes at the highest level imaginable, excavating what it is that makes a performance remarkable and taking it beyond that every time. Her performance in ‘Foreign Experiences’ felt aligned and grounded. Her voice managed to articulate the very detailed and lengthy phrases of every stream of consciousness with ease. There was a sense of playfulness in her approach that really made her work come across as refreshing and rewired. Bell is an Ashley opera master of her own craft.”

Bell’s influence may be attributed to her undeniable dedication to Ashley’s works, but even more than this amount of study and performance combined, she is who she is: the mother of us all. Bell embodies her creative process and her opera personifies this evolution. Performing this work in the Green-Wood Cemetery’s Catacombs highlighted the intelligent use of both positive and negative space, inspiring listeners to wander beyond the walls of their own imagination and physical reality. Simply put, staging “mɔɹnɪŋ [morning//mourning]” in the Catacombs was a match made in heaven and a delightful experience.

A Constructive Legacy Highlights Deconstruction

In an artist statement, Bell says “this piece was originally inspired by Alan Weisman’s book ‘The World Without Us’ (2007), which began with the thought experiment: what would happen to the Earth if humans disappeared right now. I felt a range of emotions reading the book: from the expected anger and guilt at the destructive legacy of humans, to a profound hope and humbled awe at the colossal power, resilience, and adaptability of the planet and our fellow living beings.”

“mɔɹnɪŋ [morning//mourning]” illuminates creative collaboration as the key to unlocking further understanding about our past when looking towards our future. Performers Gelsey Bell, Aviva Jaye, Brian McCorkle, Mia Pak, and Paul Pinto worked together to tell a story of how “nothing lasts forever,” and why “mourning” is “morning.” This work playfully deconstructs opera to reveal its original source: the power of the human voice expressing human existence.

The opening song “Mourning” alternates vocals in a series of sustained notes, hums, throat singing, sliding tones, and guttural melodies designed as a séance for both the singer and listener alike. Bell gracefully invited her ensemble to join her in resonating with the story of how we as humans mourn in unison for our own mortality. Thoughts of impermanence permeated the veil of the performance, creating a way for listeners to surrender to this work’s intention, highlighting unexpected possibilities of sound. “Mourning” brought tears to my eyes that I could not stop from flowing. This too became part of the experience. There are many times during a live performance when such a kick to my gut occurs—but this was the first time that it happened during the opening song. I closed my eyes and could feel the ensemble’s voices vibrating in my bones, making sense of what is often difficult to put into words; the feelings that override all understanding.

The second song, “Human Home excerpt (present day to 30 years),” cleverly followed “Mourning” and shifted the energy into a lighter place. This reminded me a lot of Robert Ashley’s rhythm in his works and how intimately and comically he utilized streams of consciousness. Bell took the opportunity to convey this same form of expression, making “mɔɹnɪŋ [morning//mourning]” sound more like a voice inside one’s head that says what it says when it wants to say it. This buoyancy carried more volumes of meaning than could have been anticipated. My eyes and ears opened wider because I felt like I had made a new friend with someone who also creatively reflects on their own existence in this way.

“A Sea of Kudzu (first hundred years)” and “Bristlecone Pines (5,000 years)” documented spans of time across Earth’s imagined landscapes and its inhabitants through minimal breath, synth, vocals, harmonies, whistling, and objects. Ensemble members leaned into one another’s voices and maintained eye contact that made these moments feel intimate and raw. The audience was captivated by the spell of this sound-web. Bell played the accordion and ensemble members repeated the “ked-ked” of “liked” as they all sang about what they liked as humans. The choice of phrases in this moment brought forward nostalgic waves detailing what we as humans may take for granted; those things that we simply like about life.

There were also moments when no one was making a sound and the outside noises of nature could be heard through the open door of the Catacombs: the gentle humming of crickets, rustling leaves in the tall treetops, and the enveloping warmth of a late summer night’s dew drawing nearer upon us. It seemed that every sound came to life in this space, making it easy to revel in the joy of coexistence.

Nothing Lasts Forever

The voices of this particular ensemble made this live experience unforgettable. During “Nothing Lasts Forever” (42 million-250 million years) I watched as audience members smiled and rocked back and forth in their seats, taking it all in. “With Time” (650 million years-1.6 billion years) might have reminded one again of Ashley’s work as Bell’s intelligent use of spoken word among the ensemble members mirrored the multiple perspectives of the mind. It was breathtaking to listen to this in the Catacombs while the outside sounds of nature seemed to grow louder. For me, this was my favorite part of the night. This level of simplicity spoke volumes “with time.”

“Morning” was the final song of this unforgettable night. It began with undulating waves of synthesizer gaining effectiveness by the harmonizing of the ensemble’s voices. I could listen to this song on repeat for hours. Bell’s gift as a composer is a gift to us all.