The Juilliard School
With her sensual mezzo-soprano voice, Avery Amereau is achingly perfect as Lucretia, who summons vehement intensity when Tarquinius attacks her.
Avery Amereau’s innate delicacy of manner embodied Lucretia’s vaunted chastity, and rendered the character’s defilement all the more gut-wrenching. Her smoky, contralto-like sound gave weight to Lucretia’s utterances —the voice was tinged with tragic forebodings from the start.
Avery Amereau, whose rich, low alto has been garnering notice around town in Bach and Tchaikovsky (and, soon to come, Carmen), gives pleasure in the tranquil, early scenes, then, without loss of quality, shadows her voice with a bitter, despairing inflection. She means every emotion, and she’s also a beautiful woman and a fine actress.
Avery Amereau, poised, dramatic, and sympathetic, as the virtuous Roman, Lucretia, displayed a rich liquid mezzo-soprano that easily reached down into dark, velvety contralto territory. Amereau’s Lucretia’s struggle with and rape by the Etruscan Prince Tarquinius, oily, priapic, and menacing as depicted by high lyric baritone Kurt Kanazawa, was appropriately painful to watch, as he pawed and, binding her in his leather straps, overpowered her.