Curtis Opera Theatre offered an unexpected double bill in its Studio last weekend and came up aces: director Susan Fenichell's The Trouble with Dido, which combines Henry Purcell's Dido and Aeneas (1689)—one of the first English operas and still in its concentrated power one of the best—and Leonard Bernstein's semi-satirical look at the myths of postwar American suburban marriage, Trouble in Tahiti (1952). Both concentrate on a single central relationship in which betrayal is the male portion and abandonment the female. In both the bond is held together through a kind of enchantment (divine in Carthage, cinematic in the 'burbs). Both feature—and this was aptly paired in Fenichell's blocking and Ralph Batman's sensible set—a group surveying and commenting on the pair's relationship: chez Purcell the sorceress and her den (the actual choral numbers were trimmed or reassigned), and chez Bernstein a radio-style trio. Many performers appeared in both parts of the show, and the mix coalesced satisfyingly.

A skilled combo consisting of Donald St. Pierre (piano), Gabe Globus-Hoenich (percussion) and Paul Kowert (double bass) created initial atmosphere and provided an apt segue (jazzy riffs on Dido's Lament) between the two works; their actual accompaniment did much for Bernstein, less for Purcell. The very sound of the piano strikes my ear, at least, as too stylistically modern even for an adaptation. Plus, St. Pierre's playing was not always pristine as to pitch. (His work as music director certainly redounded to his credit.) Allison Sanders sang Dido beautifully and with fine expression, sounding more natural in English scansion than most of her colleagues. Elliot Madore capably limned Aeneas' less testing part, but really shone (in both pointed delivery and dapper presence) as part of Tahiti's doo-wop trio. Baritone Jonathan Beyer voiced his certifiably macho sorceress well, without undo camp; and the two witches (Heidi Melton and Karen Jesse) displayed lovely instruments and apt senses of fun. Bernstein's poignant satire seems more tragic by the year, and got real emotional weight here in Karen Jesse and Nathan Bachhuber's fine portrayals of the disillusioned youngish marrieds, Dinah and Sam. The soprano in particular seems a find, with a big, beautiful, seamless voice wedded to splendid, expressive diction. Sam's oddly written part asks more tonal substance on its range extremes than Bachhuber, sonorous in midrange, was able to provide.