The Gershwins®’ Porgy and Bess®
Thursday 19 November 2026 - 19 h (by invitation from the Palace)
Saturday 21 November 2026 - 20 h (Gala evening)
by George Gershwin, DuBose and Dorothy Heyward and Ira Gershwin
PORGY AND BESS is presented by arrangement with Concord Theatricals Ltd. on behalf of Tams-Witmark LLC.
www.concordtheatricals.co.uk
Under the High Patronage of H.S.H. Princess Charlene
Opera in three acts
Music by George Gershwin (1898-1937)
Libretto by DuBose Heyward and Ira Gershwin, based on the play Porgy by DuBose Heyward and Dorothy Heyward
Premiere: Boston, Colonial Theatre, 30 september 1935
New production
As part of Monaco’s National Day celebrations
Porgy and Bess mirrors the French operas by Ravel and Debussy, which Cecilia Bartoli has been programming at the Opéra since the beginning of her tenure. George Gershwin’s admiration for the former, for instance, is clearly audible in his piano concertos, whereas Ravel was famously impressed by Gershwin‘s compositions, and beyond that excited about American popular music, brought to France in the 1920s by the likes of Josephine Baker.
Songlike numbers such as “Summertime”, jazzy rhythms, traditional Black American tunes and even street cries, which Gershwin heard during a study period in Charleston, determine his only opera’s sound. But its descriptiveness, the imaginative orchestration, the powerful choruses and dramatic solo parts are direct descendents of Europe’s impressionist and verismo movements.
At the centre stands an impossible love between the crippled beggar Porgy and the beautiful Bess, whose longing for a better life makes her an easy victim of a former lover's violence, and of “happy dust”, pressed upon her by a devilish drugdealer.
ORCHESTRE PHILHARMONIQUE DE MONTE-CARLO
One of the most compelling and varied vocal ensembles on the operatic stage, South African Cape Town Opera Vocal Ensemble received the Chorus of the Year prize at the 2013 International Opera Awards in London— placing Cape Town Opera among the world's leading companies and recognising its emotional honesty, stylistic flexibility and unmistakably South African identity. The ensemble's repertoire spans the great operatic canon alongside sacred works, jazz, African choral music, spirituals and contemporary compositions. Known for their versatility and vibrant singing, the Chorus maintains a busy schedule, performing on stages around the globe. He notably distinguished himself with his own production of Porgy and Bess, which was presented during a European tour. Under the leadership of Chorus Master Antoinette Huyssen, the singers perform in multiple languages, including South Africa's indigenous languages, bringing classical technique and live musical experience to every stage.
Act I
The heat lies over Catfish Row like a weight. It is a summer evening in Charleston, and the little African-American community comes alive as it always does, not because life is easy, but because people have learned to make what they can from what they are given. There is laughter in the street, and singing, and the dry rattle of dice. Clara rocks her baby to the tune of “Summertime”, her voice carrying softly through the hot air. Nearby, the men gather around their game. They laugh and curse and throw the dice, though everybody knows the game is not always honest. For a little while they forget the debts, the hunger, the work, and the things that wait for them when the evening is over. Among them sits Porgy. His body is crippled and poor, and life has dealt him blows enough for several men. Yet there is something in him that remains unbroken. He has little to give, but what he gives is given freely. There is Crown, a strong man ruled by anger and drink. There is Bess, the woman beside him, carrying in her face the hard history of a life that has never been gentle. There is Robbins, a neighbour, Serena’s husband. And there is Sportin’ Life, who understands weakness and makes his living from it, peddling happy dust and promises with the same easy smile. Then the evening breaks apart. Crown, drunk and blind with rage, kills Robbins. The laughter stops. Crown runs, knowing that both the law and his own conscience will follow him. He leaves Bess behind. Sportin’ Life sneaks to her with an offer. New York, he says, money, pleasure, freedom. But his freedom has a steep price, and Bess knows it all too well. She turns away from him. Porgy opens his door. He does not ask what she has done or where she has been. He gives her a place to sleep, and in that poor room she finds something she has almost forgotten exists: dignity.
The following night, the people gather around Robbins’s body in Serena’s room. His widow prays, and the neighbours pass a collection from hand to hand so the dead man can be buried properly. Then the police arrive, asking questions, searching for Crown. Fear moves through Catfish Row once more. Yet among all this sorrow, something quiet begins. Porgy and Bess begin to love one another.
Act II
Weeks pass. Porgy’s shack becomes a small place of peace. There is little in it, but Bess is there, and for Porgy that is enough. She tries to leave her old life behind. She knows the past is not a thing that disappears simply because a person wishes it away, but she keeps trying. Sportin’ Life keeps coming back. He talks about New York and money and easy living. He knows how to make temptation sound like salvation. Bess listens, but she refuses him once again.
Then the people of Catfish Row leave for a picnic on Kittiwah Island. Porgy stays behind because his crippled body will not carry him with them. Crown comes, he finds Bess alone and takes her away even though she fights against him, but the past has strong hands.
For a week she is gone. When she returns at dusk, she carries the week in her face and in the way she walks. Porgy does not question her, does not punish her for what has happened. He simply takes her back. She tells him she is afraid that she can never escape Crown. Porgy assures her that while he has strength, she will not face the world alone.
Then the hurricane comes. The fishermen are still at sea. Their wives and families gather together while the wind tears at Charleston. The people pray because there is nothing else left to do. In the middle of the storm, Crown returns to Serena’s room and demands Bess, but she tells him that she belongs to Porgy now. The storm grows louder, the sea rises, and Crown goes out into the darkness to save the fishermen.
Act IIi
By morning the wind has gone. The sea leaves wreckage behind it, and Catfish Row counts its dead. Jake, Clara’s husband, is among them. Many believe Crown is dead too. But death does not always come when people expect it. During the night, Crown returns secretly to Catfish Row to take Bess back, because he still thinks of her as something he owns. Porgy is waiting. The two men meet in the darkness and there is no room for words now. They fight, and the struggle becomes more than a fight between two men. Porgy kills Crown. It is a terrible thing, and Porgy knows it, but he believes there is no other way to save Bess from the man who has always treated her as property.
The law comes for Porgy. The next afternoon he is arrested and taken away. His absence leaves Bess alone, and Sportin’ Life sees the opening he has been waiting for. He tells her Porgy will be gone for years, so there is no reason to wait. Then he brings back the old promises—the happy dust, the money, New York, the life he has always offered her. Bess fights hard, but a person can fight only so long without hope. Porgy is gone, and the little room that once seemed like safety has become empty. At last she gives in and follows Sportin’ Life to New York.
When Porgy is released a week later, he returns to find his shack empty. For a moment there is only the emptiness but soon Porgy begins to move. He does not know what waits for him in New York. He does not even know whether Bess will return to him or whether the road will bring him anything but sorrow. But he knows where she is, and he knows he cannot remain behind. So he sets out. Catfish Row watches him go, a poor crippled man traveling toward a great city with almost nothing in his hands. Yet he carries what the others have nearly lost: the belief that love is worth the journey. And the story ends there—not with happiness secured, nor with sorrow defeated, but with a man moving forward because his heart tells him there is still something worth finding.
Five facts to discover before the curtain rises
1
At the New York premiere in 1935, the editorial team at The New York Times was so unsure as to whether Porgy and Bess was a classical opera or a Broadway musical that it assigned two reviewers, one for each discipline, and published their reviews side by side. Even today, opinions remain divided. For his part, Gershwin described his work as a ‘Folk Opera’, meaning that it focused on ordinary people, with folksy tunes (all of his own invention) and a resolutely popular language.
2
The original play, written by Dorothy and Dubose Hayward, was simply called Porgy, and Gershwin had initially intended to use that same title. However, the young soprano Anne Brown, who had heard about the opera project, approached the composer for an audition, and it was she who was cast in the role of Bess, a role that was originally somewhat minor. During rehearsals, Gershwin was so impressed by her vocal and stage presence that, in her honour, he decided to rename the work Porgy and Bess.
3
The hugely famous jazz singer and musician Al Jolson, known for his extravagant blackface performances – in other words, a white artist wearing make-up to resemble a Black person, or rather to mock Black people in those odious minstrel shows – approached Gershwin for the role of Porgy. But the composer insisted that almost the entire cast be genuinely African-American, a rather daring challenge in 1935, when the infamous Jim Crow laws – which institutionalised racial segregation across all the south-eastern states of the United States – were still in force.
4
If you happen to visit the beautiful city of Savannah, the setting for the novel and film Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, you will search in vain for a neighbourhood called Catfish Row. The opera’s librettist deliberately adapted the name of a real neighbourhood, Cabbage Row – a culinary improvement, no doubt, since after all catfish is a staple of South-Eastern American cuisine.
5
The lullaby ‘Summertime’, which opens the first scene of the opera – and which many music lovers are unaware even comes from Porgy and Bess – has rapidly conquered the world as a solo piece: it has been covered by hundreds of artists, including none other than Miles Davis, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Herbie Hancock, Sidney Bechet, John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, as well as Jascha Heifetz, Joshua Bell and Leontyne Price. The elegance of the melody and the originality of its harmony – which is neither classical nor entirely jazzy – make it the perfect material for the most beautiful variations. Admittedly, the work is brimming with such famous tunes as ‘Summertime’, ‘I Got Plenty o’ Nuttin’ and ‘It Ain’t Necessarily So’, but their jazz-inspired composition style remains fairly simple and straightforward – which may well have contributed to their fame, in fact. In reality, however, the rest of the opera displays extraordinary melodic, harmonic and orchestral complexity, rivalling that of Debussy, Richard Strauss, Ravel and, at times, even Alban Berg and Arnold Schönberg – composers whom Gershwin greatly admired.
Porgy & Bess will be presented for the first time in the history of the Opéra de Monte-Carlo. How does one approach such an emblematic work when it is being introduced for the first time in an opera house?
When a work is presented for the first time in a theatre, it seems important to me that it be done strictly in the spirit intended by the composer. This is all the more necessary in the case of Porgy and Bess, which aims to be a powerful testimony to the life of a very specific community. Faithfulness, however, does not exclude imagination or poetry…
There is a certain echo between Gershwin and the worlds of Ravel and Debussy. Having staged L’Heure espagnole, L’Enfant et les Sortilèges and Pelléas et Mélisande in recent seasons, do you perceive this musical dialogue as a fertile dramaturgical thread for your stage interpretation?
This dialogue stems from Ravel’s (moderate) use of jazz and from the fact that these works are all emblematic of the first part of the twentieth century and will remain masterpieces in the history of opera. Dramaturgically, there is a kind of fantasy that links Ravel to Gershwin, as well as, in my view, a great poetic sensibility in the pointing out the difficulties of simply “existing” (Pelléas et Mélisande).
Porgy & Bess is often described as a “popular opera”, infused with jazz, spirituals and street songs. How can this hybridity be conveyed on stage without smoothing out its singular character?
It seems to me that one must go straight to the core of the story, where poverty, sex and drugs are set against the great longing for hope that runs through the work. One must therefore accept this hybridity while avoiding the easy cliché of the musical comedy, which would run counter to Gershwin’s intentions. This is a proper opera!
The work clearly belongs to the verismo tradition, portraying ordinary people confronted with violence, addiction and the desire for emancipation. Catfish Row itself becomes a microcosm in which the community plays an essential role. How can this human dimension be brought to life without falling into illustrative naturalism?
We encounter the same difficulty when staging La Bohème (Puccini). My approach is therefore that of “poetic realism”, magnificently illustrated by French cinema of the interwar period. It poeticizes relevant social issues.
Catfish Row must necessarily be a realistic place in which a small, hard-working and rather poor community lives. It is also a place where family plays a major role, and also religion, allowing us to show the significance of the community’s spiritual life. It is their singing that will give the show its poetic power.
At the heart of the drama lies an impossible love, fragile and threatened by both social and personal forces, while the chorus acts almost like a collective character. How do you direct the performers so that both this intimate tension and the community’s powerful presence can emerge?
Directing performers always requires a very secret kind of alchemy. One must know what one wants to show while leaving an indispensable space for the artists to act freely. The danger of the lyrical impulse I mentioned is that it may take up too much room at the expense of the truth of the moment. Within the framework he has set, the stage director must channel the energies without giving the impression of restraining them.
The chorus is a character in its own right. It lives, enjoys itself, suffers, prays… this is in fact the case in many operas. In Porgy and Bess, the chorus does not merely comment; it takes part in everything! This momentum must be guided according to the same principles as for the soloists.
After exploring French Impressionism and many other aesthetic worlds in Monaco, what does this immersion in 1930s America represent for you? What personal perspective do you bring to this work, which profoundly marked the history of opera at the time of its creation?
I would like Monaco to instantly understand the immense aesthetic and visual shock that Porgy and Bess represented at its premiere. Of course, everyone knows Gershwin or at least has a generally positive image of him. Yet the drama in this music is far removed from the songs that made him world-famous.
Such is the mark of its success: everyone knows “Summertime” without necessarily realising that it is the opening aria of the opera. At the very beginning we have a brilliantly virtuosic overture, then a few jazzy piano notes with people dancing, and finally the poetic calmness of “Summertime”. What a shock!
I have no particular anecdote to share except a personal one: my great-uncle, Joe Ballard, was an American pianist and was — if I believe what I was told (and I have no reason to doubt it) — the first to perform Rhapsody in Blue in France. The story continues, with a smile…
A Rhapsody in Black
Though world-famous, George Gershwin was still seeking recognition as a serious composer. Travelling through Europe in 1928, he met the leading composers of his time: Ravel, Auric, Stravinsky, Prokofiev, Schoenberg… Although he took no lessons from them, he studied extensively and absorbed the influence of these masters.
For Gershwin, opera was the supreme genre, the means by which a composer of so-called “light music”, far wealthier than his European counterparts, could assert himself and earn true recognition. On this arduous path, Jacques Offenbach had preceded him by several decades, a journey that had led to Les Contes d’Hoffmann (whose third act was premiered at the Opéra de Monte-Carlo by Raoul Gunsbourg). For very different reasons, the major works of both composers would enjoy a triumphant, but posthumous, legacy.
Looking more closely at its subject, Porgy and Bess, first performed in 1935, is above all a portrait of the Black community, among the earliest victims of the Great Depression. And yet, it is not a political opera. Gershwin himself explained it this way: “I like the cruel simplicity of the characters. Behind each one lies the fate of a thousand others.”
And so, as in cinema, we move from a wide shot (Catfish Row, a wretched ghetto on the outskirts of Charleston) to close-ups of our two protagonists, and of those who shape and steal their destinies.
At heart, it is the story of a misunderstanding… Beautiful and alluring, Bess is pathologically malleable. With Crown, a violent bad boy, an alcoholic and a drug user, she embraces his excesses without question. With Porgy, the only man who reaches out to her, she becomes gentle and nurturing, sincerely imagining that she might find happiness in a life defined by “lack”: for Porgy has nothing and needs nothing, except Bess… When she ultimately follows Sportin’ Life, she plunges back, with little hesitation, into the deadly current of a dissolute life, easy, and inevitably short. No matter! For Bess, what matters most is never really having to decide, but simply allowing herself to be carried along by events.
All three men love her, and Gershwin gives each of them a striking musical theme. Bess herself has none… If we want to hear her, we must listen for her through the others.
A work of genius, abundant and deeply sensitive, Porgy and Bess endures because it touches upon the universal. Against prevailing opinion, Offenbach no longer wanted to write operettas, just as Gershwin no longer wanted to compose musicals.
Posterity proved them right.
We should always listen to Artists.
Jean-Louis Grinda
DIRECTOR