*What To Wear,* Jan 16 2026

I saw What To Wear at BAM on Jan 16, 2026.

It's a chamber opera written about twenty years ago with a libretto by Richard Foreman and music by Michael Gordon. It's a rock opera but unlike Tommy, which leans more towards rock, this one leans more towards opera. It was a lot of fun, it knew exactly what it was and what it was doing, and it was only 75 minutes long. To give you a little perspective, Tristan and Isolde are still hollering at each other at the 75-minute mark, the first act curtain doesn't go down for another ten minutes. This is a funny comparison for me to make because Wagner is my drug of choice when it comes to opera but no one is mad at a 75-minute opera.

This production was co-presented by BAM and Prototype, a contemporary chamber opera in New York. I see about one show a year at Prototype, their stuff is always inventive and invigorating. The combination of the BAM and the Prototype audiences was something to see - - I imagine there's a significant overlap to begin with but the needle on the Brooklyn-o-Meter was spinning wildly about the dial. The audience appeared to have an average age of 40 or 45 but each person feels like they could pass for ten years younger. Everyone was giving off a defiantly Brooklyn vibe, even those of us who came from what I'm sure Brooklyners see as an "outer borough" (Manhattan). One tatted dude had a bushy beard and braids and was wearing a camo baseball cap, inky jeans, and a Merle Haggard T-shift. I had to take a picture.

I figured at that show, an intersection of the operatic and the avant garde, I'd be likely to see someone I knew. Or better yet, someone I wanted to know. So I stepped up MY look, wearing a grey flannel shirt and turquoise jeans that were a hand-me-down from my brother Howard. Here's a picture I took in the metallic reflection of the D train on my way home:

Sadly I didn't see anyone I know. In the second category I saw some guys who seemed intriguiging but they were all talking to other middle-aged gay men they already knew and how do you deftly invade that situation. One guy showed up, walked up to his friend, gave him a hug, and said, "Hey, bitch!" It was that kind night.

Perhaps I should say a little something about the performance. The music was pseudo rock-inflected second generation Philip Glass, straightforward harmonies and repeated pulsating rhythms. The instrumental ensemble (violin, cello, bass, electric guitar, percussion, keyboards, and clarinet) was often jittery but never devolved into my personal undoing, a sound I call Ants In His Pants. It was wacky but with intention. The vocal ensemble was comprised of four leading singers, a chorus of six, and a one-song featured performer, sung in this performance by pop star St Vincent. All of the singers were amplified which I'm sure was necessary due to the electronic-heavy instrumentation. The vocal writing wasn't particularly idiomatic or distinctive but it was of a piece with everything else in the show. That was maybe the most impressive thing - - the text, the vocal writing, the instrumental writing, the staging, the design, everything was working together to deliver something fun and unlike anything we'd seen before.

I picked up on a lot of possible influences. The abstract text, crystal clear harmonic language, and general aura of funky pagaentry had me thinking of both Four Saints in Three Acts and Einstein on Beach. The checkerboard set design and bits of royal iconography had me thinking of Alice in Wonderland.

The visual aspect of the show was front and center but I really hope they produce a recording. I want to play it in my apartment and low key annoy my neighbors.