An inside look at "The Listeners"

I first encountered The Listeners in the least exciting, most unlikely environment possible — watching an archival recording on a train between Boston and New York City. And yet, watching it unfold, against all odds I found myself on the edge of my seat. Viewing an opera on my computer screen while on an Amtrak and at the same time being utterly thrilled was not something I had ever experienced before — in fact, I didn't think it was possible. With ten minutes left of the opera, I thought to myself, I genuinely do not know how this is going to end. That kind of electrifying, tantalizing uncertainty can be rare and it felt exhilarating to be absorbed in something that was so unpredictable while also so beautifully constructed. It is my hope for this production that you, the audience, experience that same thrill of not knowing, that feeling of holding your breath until the end.

Part of accomplishing that mission is bringing to life the original vision of director Lileana Blain-Cruz, who directed the work's world premiere in Oslo, and its U.S. premiere in Philadelphia, where I served as Associate Director. The goal in Philadelphia, as it is here, was not simply to duplicate the previous performance; part of Lileana's brilliance is that she created two productions where the individual performers' choices and instincts were deeply honored, and explored in rehearsal, and ultimately visible on stage. With that approach, not only do the performances continue to feel alive city after city, but more and more of what Missy Mazzoli and Royce Vavrek have written gets revealed with each new interpretation. More facets of each character start to breathe and pulse as different singers take on the roles. You will see a production inspired by Lileana's leadership that has never been seen exactly this way before, made fresh for Chicago.

With this piece, Missy and Royce have tapped into something at once of its time and timeless — the deep human need for connection that is perennial, and also freshly urgent in our current cultural moment, defined by isolation. The Listeners trades on the twin motifs of family and loneliness. The search for a place to belong drives our characters to increasingly desperate places; their desire for community together with their fear of being left alone transforms into an almost animal hunger. To what lengths will people go in order to find a sense of purpose in their lives? What happens to us when we are cut off from community — and what communities begin to coalesce when we form them from a place of fear?

The Listeners beautifully and sensitively examines these characters steeped in loneliness and craving connection without sentimentality or naivete; for these very human vulnerabilities can be easily exploited. Whether through the manipulation of charismatic leaders, or volatile dynamics, even the best intentioned group can corrupt itself.