Valentine’s Day weekend brings enchanting, intimate Cendrillon to the CheckOut

On Valentine’s Day weekend, Chicago City Opera brought Jules Massenet’s Cendrillon (Cinderella) to the CheckOut in Lakeview, proving that you don’t need a proscenium arch to create magic. The CheckOut is a former 7-Eleven on North Clark Street, now revived by Access Contemporary Music and composer Seth Boustead as a venue for chamber music and new music events.

The experiment succeeded. The February 14 performance was nearly sold out, drawing a varied crowd of younger and older listeners. As the venue’s first opera, it felt like a natural extension of salon culture: exclusive in its scale yet welcoming and unfussy.

For Cendrillon, the company stripped the CheckOut of its usual tables and installed theater-style seating for about 60 people. A bar on one side offered drinks and snacks; the performance area sat up front by the large windows that were draped with dark curtains to limit outside light and noise. The acoustic of the CheckOut is immediate. It sports neither stage nor pit to soften the edges, and the faint whir of the HVAC system and other background noises provide a constant, industrial pedal point. Purists might balk, but the unpretentiousness of the space makes it ideal for focused listening.

The production worked intelligently within the space’s constraints. Performers and audience sat in close proximity. With almost no room for elaborate sets, Director Ross Matsuda used simple elements—an oversized ottoman, a privacy screen and a stool—leaning into the limitations rather than fighting them. Donna Spencer’s costumes blended traditional and modern touches, and subtle homages to the 7-Eleven setting were light and unobtrusive without tipping into gimmickry. For first-time operagoers in the audience, the contemporary touches might ease entry without condescension.

The performance used the original French libretto with projected supertitles behind the singers. Choruses were cut to suit the reduced forces, but the core score remained almost complete. Jordan Crice’s piano accompaniment, guided by Alexandra Enyart’s fluid conducting, held the musical threads together with clarity and sensitivity, highlighting Massenet’s melodic gift and sense of fantasy while giving the local cast room to shine.

Based on Perrault’s 1698 version of the Cinderella fairy tale, Massenet’s Cendrillon is a softer, more romantic take on the Cinderella story than the gritty Grimm version. The success of the evening rested on the shoulders of Hayley Fox as Lucette. Her opening aria was soulful and infused with a genuine vulnerability that set the tone for the night.

As her father, Pandolfe, Noah Gartner provided a necessary pathos, his voice weary but warm. He found a perfect, sharp-edged foil in Marissa Simmons, whose Madame de la Haltière, Cinderella’s stepmother, was an assured, scheming delight. The comedic heavy lifting fell to Marnie Baylouny and Bethany Brewer as Madame’s daughters and Cinderella’s stepsisters; their nimble, expressive voices brought a welcome lightness to the work’s domestic squabbles.

In Act II, we met the Prince, sung by Val Beck. Traditionally a trouser role for a soprano with a darker timbre, the Prince must sound fragile yet noble. When Fox and Beck united for their duets—particularly in the mystical Fairies’ Oak scene—their voices blended with a sincerity that felt remarkably human in such a small space. Tracey Furling’s Fairy Godmother sprinkled both magic and necessary vocal fireworks throughout. The servant roles, performed delightfully by Isabel Schmitz and Keaton Payne, offered comedic support to the main cast. Along with Jeremiah Strickler as the King, they also contributed vocal depth to the opera’s ensemble numbers.

The intimacy of the CheckOut crystalizes the opera’s human stakes. In a massive hall, the relationship between a father and his daughter can feel distant; here, it felt like eavesdropping on a private moment. Moments arose where the full orchestral color would have no doubt enriched the late-Romantic shimmer, but Crice and Enyart made the reduced forces of this performance work brilliantly. The overall effect was intimate and affecting, and though the venue’s unforgiving acoustic antecedents occasionally challenged the singers on their highest notes, the overall effect felt triumphant.

By the time the enchanted slipper finds its true owner in Act IV, it was clear that Chicago City Opera’s brave experiment is working. Opera doesn’t need a palace to thrive; sometimes, a storefront is magic enough.

Some of the most vital moments in the history of opera have unfolded not in grand theaters, but in drawing rooms and modest halls. In the 18th and 19th centuries, salons turned private homes into lively centers for music, conversation, and new ideas. Composers and singers mingled with listeners at close range. A subgenre known as opéra de salon even took shape in mid-19th-century Paris: single-act pieces with piano or small ensemble, written expressly for intimate spaces rather than the Opéra-Comique.

Chicago City Opera has breathed new life into this salon tradition. Prioritizing live, in-person performances at smaller, non-traditional venues, the company offers worthwhile evenings for both committed fans and curious newcomers. This approach contrasts with larger institutions, such as the Metropolitan Opera or Lyric Opera, which often rely on broadcasts to reach a wider audience. Alongside Chicagoland-based groups such as Haymarket Opera, Chicago Opera Theater and several strong university programs, Chicago City Opera forms an essential part of the city’s operatic ecosystem, creating entry points for people who might feel priced out or intimidated by the scale and formality of Lyric’s Civic Opera House.

Originally published on Third Coast Review