This past weekend’s production of Thomas Arne’s Thomas & Sally by the Cambridge Chamber Ensemble wildly delighted the happy audience (of about 60) that overflowed the steeply raked seating in the great hall of the Cambridge Multicultural Arts Center. Stage director Holly Stone’s jocular take on love lost, challenged and finally consummated reset the English afterpiece (a saucy entertainment meant to follow the more serious play or opera) from the seedy nautical hub of London to the less seedy nautical hub of today’s Rockport (I say “today’s” because of the cell phone selfies). The creative staging grabbed our attention as soon as we entered the old Bulfinch Courthouse in East Cambridge. Around the centrally seated orchestra, long banners lay strewn like beach towels (when not being shaken to simulate waves), a rocking chair sat among the paintings one might find in a home studio; an air of saltiness incensed the staging area. RJ La Mura’s lighting enhanced the show, whether bathing the participants in rays of sunshine, shading them in pathos, or using effects-projection to approximate ocean swells worked well with  Peyton Tavares’s color pallet, unified by that shade of blue reminiscent of delftware you find in seaside apparel stores with the word “seagull” in their names.  Overall, the company economically set up librettist Isaac Bickerstaffe’s affable tale of virtue and lust.

The show took full acoustic advantage of the marbled and polychromed space by placing actors in positions towards peripheries. From these adventitious locations, singers clearly communicated whether standing on the gallery or seated below it. Despite the thoughtful, if minimal, set dressing, the dramaturgy lacked a unified sense of movement, with characters exhibiting a variety of postures, some exhibiting 19^th-century melodrama tropes while others moved with modern swagger. It was like Rockport meets Shakespearean theater ending up somewhere off the coast of P-town. But the mise en scène mostly supported the drama developed by the singers and the band, as conductor Stephanie Beatrice mightily steered this conveyance on its course though the channel. The singers all imparted such clear enunciation in the recitatives as to place them nearly in a singspiel style; nevertheless a disconnect often opened between the gestures of the recit (open/closed cadences, parentheticals and the like) and the actions of the actors. Many of these aural markers passed unacknowledged in the visuals.

Vivacious pleading from Tim Ayres-Kerr (the Squire) and dramatic resistance from Emma Robertson (milkmaid Sally)  fully realized both aspects of the phrase ‘musical theater.’ [Robertson was not tasked with actually milking a cow as Norma Burrows did in the music video of a couple of arias from the show HERE]. At times, the orchestra devolved into an underscore beneath as the drama of scenes which fully gripped us. As captivating as these sections were, the true highpoints came in solo arias that showcased the brilliance of each singer. Robertson could pour forth longing ayres that tugged at the heartstrings, but she could also execute lovely coloratura, deliver floating diminuendos or turn into a full dramatic soprano for decisive, fiery ariosos; her passionate immersion in character and splendid pipes spilled over into our applause. Tenor Ayres-Kerr too, despite some poorly supported high notes, displayed many strengths in his numbers with a tone that blended the force of operatic singing with the naturalism of musical theater. Michael González (Thomas) provided an effective love interest with ardent, bright tones. As the wisely arch Dorcas, Sara Mitnik exuded the most character, playing the part with the world-weary vibe of one who has witnessed and participated in all phases of the eternal battle of the sexes. She had no difficulty projecting over the fullest tuttis [1,1,1,1,1, plus flute, two oboes, and two horns] even when seated in a cozy rocking chair, a challenging feat. (Kudos). Sailors Thai Johnson and David Smyth channeled varied and affable slapstick throughout—additions not originally in the score. Their antics, at times too broad (such as when they stimulated themselves with beach towels), sometimes seemed at odds with Arne’s more poignant numbers. But they did add satisfying weight to a couple of trios and the final sextet.

Violinist/concertmaster Ming-hang Tam and cellist Anna Seda foreshadowed this agony and frivolity throughout the Italian overture. The Gavotte section simmered with a gentleness of Thomas and Sally as Seda and Tam volleyed amorous melodies and languishing strains across the podium to each other. Fleeting trills and pained scotch snaps (a rhythmic motif later used to articulate the name Sally, Sally) spoke to their tenderness and pain. The rest of the orchestra worked to enhance this scene and did so, but because of the small number of string players (and we could hear each individual), it often sounded like chamber music. The horns gave lively emphasis to their artfully orchestrated moments, often evoking a fox hunt. The paired oboes, of course, exuded plangent warmth, and the flute trilled delightfully. The numbers for strings alone (or with strings and one wind) displayed the most sensitivity, notably from second violinist Nate Kim who judiciously shadowed Tam in frequent passages of thirds or intensely doubled him in ferocious unisons. And let it be admitted that we accepted the modern instruments.

The closing sextet delivered the moral:

Ye [New England] youth be brave
You’ll find the [Boston] maidens will be kind.
Protect their beauty from alarm
And they’ll repay you with their charms

All in all, CCE’s pleasant divertissement charmed us thoroughly.

A musicology PhD student at Boston University, Christopher Hodges earned a M.M. in organ performance with Peter Sykes.