In World Premiere, ‘The Monkey King’ Is a Dazzling Triumph at SF Opera

On Friday night, San Francisco got the world’s very first look at an opera destined to become a modern classic.

Huang Ruo and David Henry Hwang’s The Monkey King is a dazzling, gorgeous work of art that balances the joy of young mischievousness with the weight of old wisdom. Its costumes and set pieces are a feast for the eyes, augmented by a rich, meditative score and captivating performances. I cannot say enough good things about it. If you want just the three-word summary, it’s this: go, go, go.

Directed by Diane Paulus, and commissioned jointly by San Francisco Opera and the Chinese Heritage Foundation of Minnesota, this is an opera that’s both invigorating and accessible. Sung almost entirely in English, and based on a portion of the 16th Century Chinese novel Journey to the West, Hwang’s quick-paced libretto for The Monkey King is easy to follow. Huang’s music follows in the modern American tradition, cascading and fluid. The show’s run time is two hours and 23 minutes, the length of your average prestige Hollywood film.

But this is all selling short The Monkey King’s depth. Take the opening: a chorus of low bass tones and higher voices create a tense interval of portent. The angelic figure of Guanyin (beautifully sung by Mei Gui Zhang) slowly appears in the air, ensconced in a teardrop-shaped figure, and sings: All forms are illusions.

Indeed, in the ensuing hours, tall vertical land formations curdle and collapse into a cave. A giant golden column shrinks to become a heavy handheld staff. A green umbrella soars out of view and returns 20 times its normal size. Warring swords and shields, unmanned, fight in mid-air.

Alternately navigating and causing these transformations is Monkey (a thrilling Kang Wang), a young rebel with no formal upbringing. He tries to follow the Buddhist teachings of Master Subhuti (Jusung Gabriel Park), who intones in one of the opera’s repeating melodic motifs that power alone is not enough. He soon meets his match in the Jade Emperor (Konu Kim) and his court, who resent the ego-driven Monkey’s ability to get ahead.

This is an opera you won’t need to bring binoculars to, if only to preserve the magic of the set and puppetry design by Basil Twist (with associate set designer Sara C. Walsh). The silks and fabrics alone are stunning. Hovering jellyfish bubble around an underwater seascape. Six white horses prance through the air. An enormous snake slithers into battle.

The costumes, designed by Anita Yavich, explode with color and texture — especially those of the Jade Emperor’s court, whose self-importance and overconfidence are underscored by a wardrobe befitting a cocaine-addled 1980s New Wave band. Ornate headpieces animate the movements of the Monkey King, along with those of his dancing body double (Huiwang Zhang, with dynamic choreography by Ann Yee; Twist employs a puppet double as well).

While the visuals will understandably get much of the attention, Huang Ruo’s wonderful, singular score (conducted by Carolyn Kuan, and with the occasional use of Chinese gongs and cymbals) is The Monkey King’s understated highlight. It simply would not be as strong a work without it.

Early in Act I, the Monkey King and Guanyin sing a duet — not in harmony or counterpoint, but interwoven nonetheless, while the orchestra tends to a melodic journey of its own. Later, Mei Gui Zhang’s aria “All Dharmas Are Equal” makes time stand still, and Kang Wang’s breathtaking “Land of Bliss” recalls the show-stopping Act II numbers so common to Broadway musicals.

Or take an early scene when, with no other action on stage, a boulder slowly advances for two long minutes. Ordinarily, this would constitute dead air and boredom. Instead, thanks to Huang’s accompanying music, it’s riveting — an extended moment of tension and suspense.

Any show about power and ego in the Trump era runs the risk of overplaying its relevance; it’s to Paulus’ credit as a director that The Monkey King doesn’t. While the immortality-seeking Monkey King can’t take criticism, rewards only his inner circle and tells people to go back where they came from, he isn’t portrayed heavy-handedly as our current authoritarian-in-chief. (The Jade Emperor, after all, shares many of the same traits.)

This allows The Monkey King‘s message to reside in the eye of the beholder, along with its delights. At its first-ever public performance, few flaws were evident. Could Kim play the Jade Emperor slightly more diabolically? Sure. Does the ending drag just a little too long? Maybe.

But ultimately, The Monkey King is a triumph, and a hugely enjoyable one. Make plans now, camp out for standing-room tickets, leave work early — do whatever you can to see this current run, or any future production. It will surely last and last.

‘The Monkey King’ runs through Nov. 30 at the War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco. A series of community events, workshops and exhibits accompany the world premiere run. Details and ticket information here.