Teatro Grattacielo premiered “The Tin Angel” on June 28 at La MaMa’s Ellen Stewart Theater. Based on Paul Pines’s semi-autobiographical novel “Last Call at the Tin Palace,” the three-act opera directed by Chloe Treat and conducted by Enrico Fagone, revisits a smoky slice of 1970s Bowery. The Tin Angel is a jazz club full of ghosts, addicts, crooked cops, and lost souls. Composer Daniel Asia and librettist Pines spent years shaping this adaptation. Unfortunately, it didn’t fully work.

The premise is noir. Pablo, a club owner, mourns his partner Ponce, who dies in a drug deal gone wrong. The opening gives us sirens and gunfire with minimal context on Ponce or what he’s done. That information is delivered piecemeal over the course of the piece. In most noirs that would have been fine. But “The Tin Angel’s” libretto is so replete with side characters and events that the information thrown at the audience piles up fast, resulting in a narrative that is often challenging to follow. Confusion undoubtedly ensues. Without the respite of an intermission to help slow down, process, and discuss, the experience becomes overwhelming.

This threw off the pacing with scenes moving along the dramatic stakes never accumulating. As such, the emotional beats and character arcs rarely landed. The opera aims high and wide, attempting to incorporate a plethora of themes, but ultimately few manage to cohere. The final moments of the opera bring up the importance of “invisible assets.” In the context of the work, there is a lot of talk about family and friends and the people that complete our lives. They are more valuable than any material possessions. But with the way the libretto is designed, that final salvo misses the mark.

Musical & Dramatic Shakiness

The musical storytelling obfuscates the situation further. Pines and Asia set out to write an opera about jazz, not a jazz opera. In essence, The Tin Angel is a jazz club sans jazz. The score reflects this: any riffs are buried beneath dense chromaticism, even when the moment calls for something more aligned with the era.

Asia offers no easy foothold. The music leans academic, and the opera is through-composed, excluding traditional set pieces like arias or recits that anchor the audience. In this way, Asia nods to forebears of the style, but without the grandeur or sweep. While the libretto bears the brunt of the blame for being far too overcrowded with information, this musical choice also affects the pacing of the work greatly. Having ensembles for the members of the club or more traditional arias would have potentially aided in the aforementioned narrative confusion. In traditional opera (and in some of the best contemporary works as well), arias and ensembles are precisely the moments where characters get a chance to reflect and by extension as the audience to do the same with them. A few such sections, would likely be a major boost to “The Tin Angel.”

The other challenge that the music presents is the vocal writing, not only for the singers, but for the audience as well. Not only was it lacking in any dynamism or sense of lyrical expansion, but it didn’t reveal much emotionally. The constant vocal stabs didn’t align with the text or emotional arc and often felt overzealous. The diminishing returns principle when it comes to high notes was also in evidence here. Once in a while they can prove thrilling. When used often, as was the case with Pablo’s role, they lose their emotional weight once they become predictable.

The set was designed to be immersive. A large bar sat center-stage on a platform, surrounded by café tables and chairs. Some were occupied while others sat empty. Though the fourth wall stayed intact, some scenes played out on a narrow catwalk that extended into the seating area. If you weren’t positioned just right, you wouldn’t even know it was there until a character began singing from above. Small choices like this pile up. They shift attention from the performance to the production’s logic.

The chorus sang from everywhere—the balcony, the sides, the café space. At one point, a ninja landed on my foot, dead. The scene supposedly took place at the rival club or home of a kimono-wearing proprietor who trims “bonsai trees.” He dies shortly after entering the story, though the staging was not the most convincing. Part of the confusion stemmed from the absence of any explicit stage violence, such as gunshot or any sound cue. The score could used a snare hit here, for example. Ultimately, instead of hard-boiled and jarring, the event came across as pulled punch.

Grounded Performances in a Shaky World

While the opera left a lot to be desired, the performers didn’t. Conductor Enrico Fagone managed a difficult, jagged score that could’ve easily unraveled without a tight band behind him. He kept the pacing intact, never letting the music go slack or mechanical. Animated but not showy, he appeared to be enjoying himself. The music may not suit every taste, but it was clearly demanding and probably rewarding to play and conduct.

Daniel Klein’s portrayal of “Christ” stood out—dry, stylized, and grounded in genre. Tenor Spencer Hamlin, as Pablo, sang with a voice almost too large for the space. Brassy and rich, he showed excellent control, especially during the abrupt vocal stabs, punching through high notes without cracking or pushing too far. Similarly, Victoria McGrath showed off a creamy soprano matching Hamlin in their intimate moments together.

Chantelle Grant, as Black Hattie, brought emotional weight to a role that could’ve easily slid into caricature. Grant sang with force and focus, grounding the role even when the story didn’t. Her performance in the final confrontation with Babar stood out. When she shoots him to stop the mutilation of Pablo, the moment lands with some gravity.

Michael Appiah Kubi Mensah played Babar, the nose-ripping villain. He was sufficiently chilling. The moment he turns on Pablo and is shot, killed by Grant’s character to stop the mutilation, had impact. Here, the production hit something visceral and potent. Grant’s reaction lingered. Sadness, regret, something close to grief.

The remainder of the cast, which included Alejandro De Los Santos, Zachary Angus, Justin Ramm Damron, Henry Hyunsonn Kim, Chisom Maduakor, Jordan Rutter-Covatto, Rick Agster, Eugenia Forteza, Ziliang Hao, Logan Dooley, and Melina Jaharis, did their utmost to fill the stage with energy and vibrancy, despite their limited appearances.

Ultimately, The concept behind “The Tin Angel” was commendable, but the execution fell short. The production wanted grit, shadow, and complexity, but the opera itself delivered clutter. The emotional core of grief, identity, and trauma was there, but buried.