I likely first heard the mellifluous insistence of Malcolm X’s oratory in samples used on Public Enemy records in the 1990s. That’s the first time I memorized it, anyway. Actor Denzel Washington brought him to life (at least in my consciousness) not long after, in Spike Lee’s biopic. Around the same time, the first recording of Anthony Davis’ opera X, The Life And Times Of Malcolm X, was released but I didn't hear it until a number of years later.
It’s the 2022 recording by the Boston Modern Opera Project, with the clarion brilliance of Davóne Tines in the title role, that first registered as the sung voice of X, which provided the talented baritone Will Liverman, in my ears, a tough act to follow. He lacked Tines' presence and projection in this premiere staging by the Metropolitan Opera, but nevertheless was convincing, finding his footing as street orator, only to be cast again into doubt. For better or worse, Nation of Islam founder Elijah Muhammad (Victor Ryan Robinson) seemed the stronger hand when they shared the stage. Leah Hawkins was memorable in dual roles as Malcolm’s mother and wife but Bryce Christian Thompson as young Malcolm truly stole the show.
It is, to be sure, an unusual opera. Davis’ score sets a jazz band in the middle of the orchestra, and integrates the two with wonderful fluidity. The story by Christopher Davis and libretto by Thulani Davis (both cousins of the composer) is told in 12 vignettes, focusing less on the activist’s triumphs than pivotal moments of crisis. It’s hard not to see it as a heroic tale, and just as hard to receive it that way. Someone walking into the opera without knowledge of the man born in 1925 as Malcolm Little and assassinated in 1969, having taken the Muslim name el-Hajj Malik el-Shabazz, would leave not understanding his mark on racial politics in America. Of course, someone without knowledge of Malcolm X should rectify that lacking, independent of the opera.
This new production, directed by Robert O’Hara and touring the States next year, was unexpected from the outset. The set, designed by Clint Ramos, is dominated by a floating spiral (rather like an enormous tortellini) apparently intended to give an Afrofuturist spin but which just seems out of place. The other primary stage element is an inset theatre, with red curtains and gold leafing, that sits in the middle of the stage and allows for a small interior. It all comes off as a bit flash, but proves functional, as newspaper headlines, period photos, flames and pulsating abstractions are projected on the frozen vortex hovering overhead.
The strongest passages downplayed the set. An upbeat, jazzy scene with zoot suits and Ricky Tripp's exciting choreography filled the stage with colour and the hall with spirit. A prison chorus to rival Fidelio was staged with beams of light as cell bars in the second act and, in the third, the stage transformed into a mosque for X's pilgrimage to Mecca. These scenes also contained the most overtly beautiful music in the score.
It’s noteworthy that this isn't just a black story or a black composer but essentially an all black cast at the Metropolitan Opera. That, in itself, is an occasion of significance. And it's an important work. Reviving and touring the piece, which received its premiere by New York City Opera in 1986, is not just a savvy decision on the part of the Met, it's a laudable one.
Public Enemy's Chuck D once said that rap is black America’s network news. But such has long been true. Earlier in the last century, blues songs often spread the news. And with Davis' work, opera has likewise become a history book, and a crucial one for the current day.
