‘Composer’ Comes Off More Camp Than Serious

If you hear that Miguel del Aguila’s new opera is about the creative process, with reflections on commercial culture, the media and overpopulation, then you might understandably expect a rather intense and serious night in the theater. But del Aguila settles for easy satire, and “Composer Missing,” which had its first performance Friday in the foyer of Ventura City Hall, comes off as a camp version of “That’s Entertainment.”

“Composer Missing” was written for the Ojai Camerata, the small ensemble of evidently untrained voices that del Aguila directs, and the singers seemed to find its goofy, let’s-put-on-a-show attitude endearing. Certainly they attacked the seven choruses del Aguila has given them--tuneful, tonal, affectionate homages and allusions to everything from oldies pop and Latin jazz to Mozart and Villa-Lobos--with alert relish. They were always enthusiastic and responsive despite persistent unpleasantness with pitch and vocal production.

Del Aguila wrote his own two-act libretto, basically a series of arch, self-referential skits in which an anonymous Composer tries to write the music being performed. The allegorical characters Inspiration (part vamp, part fairy godmother) and Tragic Muse (all elemental witchery) manipulate the befuddled Composer, who seems to commit suicide, leading to much second-act hysteria and del Aguila’s brightest comic invention, the concept of forensic musicology. A capable soprano, Deborah Mayhan, readily dominated the cramped space and prevailing vocal standards as Tragic Muse. She gets the best music, as the Composer tells us, but at the would-be climactic suicide, del Aguila’s own inspiration fails him and he has Tragic Muse speak the most effective lyric lines in the show over a dull choral chant.

Actor James Lashley played the Composer in the amiably confused daze that del Aguila calls for, and actress Jaye Hersh--who sings tenor in the Camerata--fluttered confidently about as the unpredictable Inspiration. The handful of smaller parts was earnestly read.

Del Aguila’s choral music is the sort of vernacular setting that is instantly familiar by type if not particular reference, and was deftly written at the outer limits of his choir’s abilities. The active, atmospheric instrumental accompaniment was fluently played by pianist Karen Corbett, percussionist John Magnussen and trombonist Peter Brokman.

The crowding, lack of sight lines and unvarying institutional lighting did nothing to help the theatrical impact of this semi-staged premiere. “Entertainment is an art,” the cast insists at the end--in this case a rough and not completely ready art.