Sometimes in opera, a Greek chorus appears: these are characters who lurk on stage, breaking the fourth wall to comment on the story and characters. The Minnesota Opera’s season debut, Cruzar la Cara de la Luna (“To Cross the Face of the Moon”), employs this technique. But the chorus in question is a trio of Mariachi guitarists, using song and string to guide the Velásquez family’s tale of heartbreak and hope. Torn apart by a harrowing immigration journey, anger, grief and courage drifts through three generations of the Mexican American family. Laurentino immigrates to Texas in the 1970s to support his family–his wife dies in her attempt to follow him, leaving their son Rafael to grow up in Mexico. As they age, Rafael wrestles with the blame he has cast at his father for leaving until Laurentino’s failing health forces a confrontation. Their journey is told through flashbacks, dreams, and mariachi—the first opera to incorporate and celebrate the musical form.
Cruzar, which premiered in 2010, was the first opera by composer José “Pepe” Martinez. A prolific composer and mariachi musician from a young age, Martinez’s legacy of composing began when he was 19 and lasted until his death in 2016 at age 74. The Minnesota Opera’s production of Cruzar heralds the return of two original cast members, Octavio Moreno and Cecilia Duarte, reprising their roles as the family’s matriarch and patriarch.
Director David Radamés Toro, a graduate of the Minnesota Opera’s Resident Artist Program, brings with him both personal and professional experiences that impact and enrich the production. We snagged a few minutes to chat with him in between dress rehearsal and opening night about why he’s excited to be directing Cruzar—and why it’s a great opera for first-time goers.
What interested you in directing The Minnesota Opera’s Cruzar la Cara de la Luna?
In 2019 I was actually somewhat fresh out of the Minnesota Opera Resident Artist Program and I got a call from Fort Worth Opera because they were remounting [mariachi opera El Pasado Nunca Se Termina] and Leonard Fogilia, who wrote the libretto, needed an assistant and so I went down there and–I don’t want to say it was life changing because it’s so superlative, but it really was.
I was for the first time in a room where I saw the diversity of Latino representation. There were people from South America, from Mexico, from the U.S.; some who had immigrated, some who had been here first and second generation. So I just saw a little bit of me and my family in this large group of people.
My grandfather owned a lamp shop and he always had mariachi on in the shop and at home. Being in Fort Worth in this experience with stories that felt like my family stories, and hearing mariachi music treated with respect and dignity–a lot of time in media, mariachi is treated almost like a joke, like it’s usually out of tune and very loud and in the way. [In the opera], it’s a dramatic art form. The two parts of my musical life, mariachi and opera came together, telling this story that moved me.
From that point I knew I really wanted to figure out what were the Latino stories in the American repertory. I directed Ópera Afuera at Allianz Field a couple years ago during shutdown, and then the next year they offered me this, and I said yes. I had to say yes.
Cruzar is the first opera to combine mariachi and opera. What is it like to work with the two musical forms? How does the music impact the story?
The original production was written for a full mariachi ensemble. They served as the Greek chorus for the piece, so they were on stage and they sang with the songs and commented on the stories. With our production, the three guitarists that don’t appear in the orchestra–the guitarrón, the vihuela, and the guitar–are on stage, and they’re kind of that Greek chorus, the omnipresent watchers of the piece. [Conductor] David Hamlin knows a lot about mariachi style and how to make the orchestra, though a larger, kind of lusher sound than the mariachi ensemble alone, still sound like mariachi music. Which is beautiful.
What’s it like working with Cecilia Duarte and Octavio Moreno, who performed the original production? How are you drawing on their experiences?
Working with Cecilia and Octavio has just been a beautiful experience, honestly. They originated the roles, they come with the history and they know the characters so well and it was great to ask them, who are these characters to you, what are their stories? They were also willing to explore new aspects of the characters and then give me great suggestions to try out too. It’s been a blessing having them here.
A lot of traditional opera tells grand stories of kingdoms and royalty. Cruzar is a more real, relatable story, but it still has all the operatic elements of heartbreak, longing, betrayal and reconciliation. How are contemporary operas helping find the opera of everyday stories?
I think what’s really beautiful about the American canon–and Cruzar is 100% part of the American canon–is that we’re seeking stories about very human characters that experience very grand stories. Maybe that is unique to American opera or especially to 21st-century American opera, but we want to see ourselves in these people on stage.
At our table read we all talked about our own family experiences and we all have these moments in our life that seem almost operatic, whether it’s an immigration story or a secret family (okay, nobody had that). And I think what makes this type of story relatable is that they’re humans, they’re regular people like we are. It doesn’t have to be real—you know, you do have gods and dukes and all that. But it has to be very honest as far as how it’s experienced by the characters.
What should attendees prepare for and what do you hope they’ll come away with?
They should expect beautiful music and fantastic performances. They can expect a story about a family seeking to reunite from past family traumas and coming together. I hope when they leave, they’ll see something familiar, that although this is a story specifically about a Latino family and how the family came to the U.S., it’s very universal in the sense that it’s that idea of love and family and the need to reunite.
And for first time opera goers, you can’t beat that it’s only an hour and fifteen minutes!
Ordway Center for the Performing Arts, 345 Washington St., St. Paul. All ages. Tickets: $26-239. Remaining performances: Thursday November 9, 7:30 p.m., Saturday November 11, 7:30 p.m., Sunday November 12, 2:00 p.m.