A Bold Reinterpretation Through Musical Precision

Utopia Opera’s concert presentation of Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice’s seminal rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar at Lang Recital Hall transforms the familiar narrative through sheer musical force. Under William Remmers’ dual leadership as both conductor and performer, this production strips away theatrical artifice to reveal the raw emotional core of this revolutionary work.

Orchestral Magnitude in Intimate Space

The decision to employ a full 36-piece orchestra within Lang Recital Hall’s relatively intimate confines represents both ambition and artistic conviction. This expansive musical palette—ranging from the rock-driven rhythm section (Mitchell Lee’s drums and Jack Beal’s bass guitar providing the foundational heartbeat) to the lush string section—creates a sonic landscape of remarkable depth. The hauntingly beautiful violins, led by first chairs YoonJung Hwang, Edan Sabah, Andy Didorenko, and Jennifer Axelson, achieve a transcendent quality particularly in moments of spiritual reflection and during the crucifixion sequence. Complementing this emotional resonance, the violas under first chairs Dora Banyai and Matthew Ryan provide rich harmonic textures that elevate the production’s emotional impact. The orchestration reveals nuances in Lloyd Webber’s score often obscured in more conventionally staged productions, particularly in the delicate interplay between the three flutes (Joey O’Neill, Hannah Donnelly, and Joey Jubayr) during the work’s more contemplative passages.

Vocal Performances: Reimagining Iconic Roles

At the production’s emotional center stands Devyn White’s extraordinary interpretation of Judas—a performance that transcends conventional boundaries to achieve something genuinely revelatory. Having witnessed multiple productions of Superstar, I found myself unprepared for White’s devastating emotional intelligence, which transforms this often one-dimensional antagonist into a figure of profound complexity. White navigates the psychological terrain of betrayal with such nuanced authenticity that traditional moral frameworks collapse, leaving audience members to confront uncomfortable questions about loyalty, ideology, and the human capacity for both love and destruction. In moments like the propulsive anxiety of “Damned for All Time” and the despairing resignation of “Judas’ Death,” White achieves that rarest of theatrical feats: making a familiar character feel simultaneously true to the source material yet entirely, startlingly new.

Blanca Del Loco’s interpretation of Jesus provides a worthy counterpoint, bringing unexpected vulnerability and emotional complexity to a role often defined by stoic martyrdom. Del Loco navigates the challenging vocal terrain—from contemplative whispers to anguished cries—with technical precision that never sacrifices emotional authenticity. The famous “Gethsemane” becomes less a showcase of vocal pyrotechnics than a harrowing psychological portrait.

Maria Lane’s Mary Magdalene serves as the production’s vital emotional touchstone, consistently grounding the narrative in recognizable human experience. Lane possesses a voice of unusual emotional transparency that cuts through theological abstraction and political machination alike. Her “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” transforms from familiar pop ballad to genuine spiritual questioning, each phrase weighted with authentic confusion rather than melodramatic angst. Throughout, Lane maintains a presence that suggests both vulnerability and quiet strength, creating a Mary who functions as our surrogate within this heightened world—experiencing love, terror, and grief with disarming directness amid the production’s more cosmic concerns.

Supporting Ensemble: Unexpected Revelations

The production’s supporting cast delivers several performances that transcend their traditionally ancillary roles. Julian Baldwin’s Annas emerges as a particular standout—less a secondary antagonist than a chillingly efficient political strategist. Baldwin’s embodiment of the character manifests in remarkably specific physicality, most notably in how he holds his hand perpetually aloft as if clutching an invisible goblet. This singular gesture transforms him instantly from chorus member to high-brow scheming Sanhedrin priest, a visual shorthand that powerfully conveys centuries of entrenched religious authority. Baldwin infuses the character with an intellectual precision that makes his manipulations all the more disturbing, employing vocal clarity and this restrained yet eloquent physicality to suggest a man for whom power is less an emotional drive than a clinical imperative.

William Remmers’ dual performance as both the solemn Caiaphas and flamboyant Herod demonstrates remarkable versatility, especially considering his simultaneous responsibilities as conductor and rhythm guitarist. His Herod delivers a burst of theatrical exuberance, harkening back to vaudeville traditions complete with an unexpected mid-song tap dance break that elicits genuine laughter. The audience’s delighted response to “King Herod’s Song” provides a crucial moment of levity amid the production’s intensifying dramatic trajectory. Remmers commits fully to this theatrical flourish, allowing the character’s inherent humor to create a memorable counterpoint to the surrounding gravity.

Christina Krawec’s soprano Pilate subverts traditional gender expectations while illuminating new dimensions of the character’s conflicted morality. Krawec’s crystalline upper register creates a fascinating tension with the character’s political pragmatism, suggesting a figure whose aesthetic sensibilities remain at odds with her administrative duties. In her pivotal confrontations with Jesus, Krawec employs vocal fragility as a counterintuitive signifier of power, creating a Pilate whose authority seems perpetually on the verge of dissolution yet remains inexorably binding.

Concert Format: Revelation Through Reduction

The concert format, far from limiting theatrical impact, intensifies focus on the work’s musical architecture and narrative complexities. The English supertitles prove particularly effective in a production where lyrical clarity carries so much dramatic weight. Without elaborate staging diversions, Rice’s provocative libretto—with its political implications and theological questioning—emerges with renewed relevance.

Final Assessment

Utopia Opera’s Jesus Christ Superstar succeeds not despite but because of its concert format, stripping away accumulated production clichés to reveal the revolutionary spirit that animated the work’s creation. Through exceptional musicianship and thoughtful reinterpretation of iconic roles—most notably White’s transformative Judas and Blanca Del Loco’s Jesus, marking a historic milestone as the first transgender performer to embody this iconic role—this production reminds us that Lloyd Webber and Rice’s masterpiece remains, at its core, a profound meditation on human frailty, ideological conflict, and the price of transformation. In a theatrical landscape often dominated by spectacle, Utopia Opera offers something more essential: emotional truth rendered through musical precision. The result is a Superstar that resonates long after the final notes fade into silence.

As of the writing of this review, there is one more performance remaining for this wonderful show. Get tickets here.

I attended this performance as an invited guest.