MUSIC 10 --LOOKS 2

 Isabel Leonard and Michael Fabiano (photo by Curtis Brown for Santa Fe Opera)

Where are we? We are sitting in the Santa Fe Opera's lovely theater, wishing we were being transported to Seville in the 19th c., the world created by Georges Bizet and librettists Henri Meilhac and Ludovic Halévy (originally created by novelist Prosper Mérimée)--a world of gypsies, smugglers, and bull fights. But no, that is not going to happen. We can't tell where we are from a confusing set and ugly costumes. We are in the world of a misguided director who wants to tell a different story.  Of our beloved Carmen, only the "romantic" obsession remains and the good girl/bad girl dichotomy.

We were inspired to do a search of our reviews of every Carmen we have ever written about.  And there are dozens. Significantly, the last Carmen done by Santa Fe Opera was similarly egregious. The most affecting one we ever saw was performed by a small (now defunct) company in New York City. The most original one was presented by a psychoanalytic colleague whose concept it was to be interviewing Don Jose in prison, after the stabbing. His character was explored by means of flashbacks to various scenes of the opera.  It was original and illuminating. If you are going to have a concept, it better be cohesive and show us something new about the characters. This production was about as interesting and as believable as Lucia in overalls in the rustbelt of the United States, as presented by the Metropolitan Opera.

If one closed ones eyes, which we frequently needed to do, one was treated to some superb singing and a glorious reading of the score by Maestro Harry Bicket. The music moved right along with big dramatic orchestrations, as in the overture, alternating with gentle pianissimo lyricism, as in the introduction to Act III.

Poor mezzo-soprano Isabel Leonard, drably dressed in jeans and dun colored top gave her all to make sense of the character. She possesses a magnificent instrument which she uses skillfully throughout the entire range. She clearly worked hard to fulfill the director's requirements and to tell us something new about the eponymous heroine. In the 19th c. there was something shocking and fascinating about a woman who marched to her own tune. Set in contemporary times, it's just old hat.

Tenor Michael Fabiano sounded just fine as Don Jose but was perhaps directed to be particularly awkward with his body movements, leading us to speculate that Don Jose had some rare ailment that contributed to his unbalanced mental state.  His violence did not evolve gradually but was present right from his ungracious shoving of Micaëla as she tried to give him a kiss from his mother. 

Soprano Sylvia D'Eramo scored vocally with her Act III aria. Dressed in overalls, backpack, and Keds, she looked nothing like an innocent country girl although she did her best to act the part, contrasting with Ms. Leonard's worldly wise mien.

Four apprentices delighted us with their performances, seemingly removed from the intensity of the main story. Soprano Magdalena Kużma's Frasquita and mezzo-soprano Kathleen Felty's Mercédès made a fine pair and we enjoyed their card reading duet. Tenor Anthony Léon's Remendado  and baritone Luke Sutliff's Dancaire brought Act II to vivid life. The quintet with Ms. Leonard resisting their blandishments was one of the vocal highlights of the evening.

Bass-baritone Michael Sumuel was put in the ambiguous position of portraying Escamillo as a bullfighter in authentic dress, and also some kind of entertainer in a saloon pretending to be a bullfighter. Nonetheless, we enjoyed his singing of the Toreador Song.

Bass-baritone David Crawford was effective as Zuniga; Apprentice David Lekeith Drone sang the role of Morales; Omen Thomas Sade took the non-singing role of the famed Lilias Pastia.

A terpsichoreally challenged female child was onstage so much, for no apparent reason, that we were not surprised at the muttering of the woman sitting next to me, muttering we choose not to repeat. These constant appearances were most resented when they occurred during the big arias. How unforgivably distracting! Perhaps she is the offspring of a big donor. Why was she holding her ears during the overture? Why was she prancing around stage making odd faux flamenco moves with her arms and swishing her skirt? Whatever the director had in mind was lost on every audience member we spoke with or overheard in the ladies room during intermission.

French director Mariame Clément obviously comes from the European régie theatre school.  Silly us to think that opera is about singing that enhances logical story telling! Whatever happened to authenticity and honoring the intentions of the composer and librettist? We would beg directors to stop trashing the classics. Modern touches added to comedies are just misdemeanors but to ruin a tragedy is a felony.

Julia Hansen's set and costumes for Act I were not awful.  Just a bunch of soldiers on one side and a fenced in area on the other side, enclosing a yard for the cigarette factory workers to take their breaks. But things got progressively worse.  In Act II, there was something like a nightclub with what appeared to be a drag show onstage; but then appeared to be Frasquita and Mercedes in hideous garish costumes. And another smaller stage was wheeled on with Escamillo in full toreador costume singing his big aria.

Act IV was completely incomprehensible.  At first, the chorus of onlookers were waving flags behind a wooden barrier. So, it's a bullfight and we had no problem using our imagination to recreate the parade of chulos, picadors, and toreros that were being sung about.  But then the set became a garish amusement park with a ticket office with a sign reading "CAJA"--Spanish for cashier or box office--and the only sign that the action is supposed to be taking place in Spain. A lone merry-go-round horse witnessed the violence perpetrated by Don Jose on the complacent but defiant Carmen.

Not only were the characterizations impossible to fathom but the stage business frequently belied the text. Please don't sing about a rope and then produce handcuffs to restrain Carmen.

We could go on and on about the directorial  misjudgment but we would prefer to use the space to once again applaud the excellent chorus of apprentices, directed by Susanne Sheston.  The chorus has been a winning element throughout the season.

© meche kroop

FINAL SANTA FE APPRENTICE SCENES

 Justin Burgess, Vanessa Croome, Caroline Corrales, Daniel O'Hearn, and Joseph Parrish

It seems as if the eight scenes chosen to present to the public by the Santa Fe Apprentice Program are of twè kinds. One type demonstrates the ability of the young artists to work together as an ensemble; the other variety seems to highlight the particular talents of a pair or trio. 

Let us begin with the scene from Verdi's La Traviata in which the ailing courtesan Violetta is confronted by her young lover's irate father. Père Germont has come to persuade her to give up his son in order to get his virtuous daughter married off. He demands, cajoles, and manipulates. His arrogant mien softens when he realizes her humanity and dignity. Teresa Perrotta impressed us with a sizable soprano, lovely legato line, and accurate phrasing. Baritone Darren Lekeith Drone made an excellent Giorgio Germont, not only singing with intention but successfully converting our initial anger at his character for insulting our favorite operatic heroine to a feeling of sympathy for his bourgeois predicament. The scene was well directed by Crystal Manich.

Another duet  that impressed us was from Robert Ward's The Crucible. We generally find fault with contemporary opera in English for its lack of melodic interest; however, Maire Therese Carmack's performance as Elizabeth Proctor and baritone Erik Grendahl's as her husband John carried us fully into the story. The singing was superb but what we most appreciated was the completely comprehensible diction --something we never take for granted. James Robinson's direction made the relationship between husband and wife very clear. His prior adultery has left him vulnerable and his wife even more so as the community is involved in the Salem witch trials. This will not end well!

It is always a pleasure to hear young voices tackle Wagner and two tenors, singing in fine German, made much of the scene from Siegfried in which the eponymous hero confronts the dwarf who has raised him. If one didn't know the backstory one would blame the ungrateful Sigfried (sung by Eric Taylor) and feel sorry for the hard-working Mime (sung by Thomas Cilluffo) who can never satisfy his ward. Siegfried is, indeed, a dolt who "enters pursued by a bear" (oops, sorry about that, he was wearing the skin of a bear he slaughtered) and heaps abuse upon the dwarf who has raised him.  But we, the audience, know that Mime is pure evil and only wants Siegfried's treasure. This is serious business but it was clear that the pair of singers relished their roles and threw themselves into the scene, which was well directed by Ken Cazan.

The ensemble scenes offered a wide range of styles. Our favorite was the scene from Richard Strauss' Der Rosenkavalier in which the Marschallin, sung with beautiful tone and great dignity by soprano Murrella Parton, acknowledges the reality of her young lover Octavian (a most convincing Kathleen Felty in this mezzo-soprano breeches role) about to begin a romance with young Sophie (charmingly sung by Emilie Kealani). This is one of our favorite operas and we loved the way it was sung and directed. Kathleen Clawson directed the three singers to stand far apart as they each expressed different emotions. But after the Marschallin left the scene, the lovers were brought together in intimate joy.

The scene from johann Strauss' Die Fledermaus was an audience favorite, a comic operetta directed by Ms. Clawson as a farce.  Gabriel von Eisenstein (baritone Justin Burgess) is delaying his departure to serve a jail sentence in order to attend a party. The maid Adele (soprano Vanessa Croome) uses an excuse to attend the same event. Gabriel's wife Rosalinda (soprano Caroline Corrales) is entertaining a former lover, opera star Alfred (tenor Daniel O'Hearn). When jailer Frank (bass-baritone Joseph Parrish) arrives to take von Eisenstein to jail, Rosalinda, for the sake of propriety, must pretend that Alfred is her husband. We suppose that the work was sung in English because of the plot complexity but we find it funnier in German. We found it a bit over directed with an excess of shtick and physical comedy.There is enough comedy in the plot! Suddenly this season we are seeing a lot of Broadway type dancing that went out of fashion decades ago.  We can't help thinking of the can-can.

Rossini's Armida began with a touching love scene between the beautiful sorceress Armida (soprano Avery Boettcher) and the lapsed warrior Rinaldo (tenor Jonah Hoskins). The melodic vocal lines gave them an opportunity to show their stuff. But then, two men in army fatigues entered threatening our hero with pistols in one hand and what might be bibles in the other hand, laying a guilt trip on him for abandoning his war hero status. We felt sorry for tenors Philippe L'Esperance and Kameron Lopreore (as Carlo and Ubaldo) whose gifts we thought were wasted, with strange gestures distracting from their singing. Perhaps director Mr. Cazan wanted us to think of the conflict in the Middle East, but it did not work.

We thought the scene selected from Mozart's Don Giovanni was not the best choice.  We are not sure why operas are recently getting tricked out with an excess of "stage business" which distracts from the singing. It seem as if an attempt was made to get as many singers onstage as possible and to give them as much to do as possible. Bass Allen Michael Jones made a believable Leporello and, to the extent that we could sort out what was going on, sang the role well. But why was Elvira (portrayed by Ms. Corrales) wearing a nun's habit when she is claiming to be DG's wife? Tenor Dylan Davis and soprano Caitlin Aloia portrayed Don Ottavio and Donna Anna, while Zerlina and Massetto were sung by Ms. Kealani and Jongwon Han. There was just too much going on to appreciate the singing.

And finally, we thought the very brief scene from Massenet's Cendrillon was also over directed by Mr. Robinson. Madame de la Haltiere was finely sung by contralto Megan Esther Grey but the severely overdone contortions of her two daughters was distracting. Noémie was performed by Amber Norelai and Dorothée, by mezzo-soprano Gloria Palermo.

In sum, it was a great evening, filled with delights and revelations. It is alway a pleasure to hear the stars of tomorrow at the relatively early stage of their careers.

© meche kroop