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OPERA REVIEW
A Singer's "Don Giovanni" in Walnut Creek
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By Mary Ann Smart
Amid all the attention to directors' opera, postmodern stagings, and astronomical production costs nowadays, it's easy to forget that what really makes opera work are beautiful voices and the emotional power they can convey. This simple equation lay behind the spectacular effect of the Festival Opera's mid-August production of Don Giovanni in Walnut Creek at the Dean Lesher Regional Center for the Arts where a cast of superb young singers energized this familiar opera. One pleasure was the chance to hear some of the San Francisco Opera's Adler Fellows in more substantial roles than they usually sing on the big-city stage. The result (was a testament) testified to the excellence of the Adler program.
Adler fellow Mel Ulrich seemed to have a natural affinity for the role of Don Giovanni, combining a strong physical presence with an impressive control of Giovanni's chameleon vocal colors. He shifted easily from savage energy in the "Champagne" aria to velvety upper-class persuasion in his seduction duet with Zerlina, from rustic plodding when disguised as his servant Leporello to a sincere tenderness in the superbly-sung "Deh vieni alla finestra" This was not one of those Freudian Don Giovannis, who used vocal swagger to cover up his lack of real sexual success: Ulrich's movements on stage telegraphed a physical confidence that made Leporello's catalogue of conquests nearly believable. Ulrich's stage manner in this role provided an intriguing counterpoint to his equally convincing performance as the sexually insecure Ottone in the SF Opera's L'incoronazione di Poppea last June.
Director Harvey Berman's forceful vision aside, much of the dramatic power of this performance came from the singers themselves. This was most striking in the role of Zerlina, sung and acted to perfection by Peggy Kriha Dye (another Adler fellow). Zerlina's unassuming vocal style is often overshadowed by the flashier revenge arias of Giovanni's more sophisticated paramours, but as the only character to succumb to Giovanni's advances during the course of the opera, Zerlina has chances to show desire, reluctance, and--once she tries to win back the affection of her fiance, Masetto--to attempt a seductive manoeuver of her own. Kriha Dye's Zerlina fathomed all these nuances and added some of her own. Her duet with Giovanni captured a delicious balance of curiosity and hesitation. She made gems of tenderness and vocal beauty of her two modest arias. In his notorious Pepsico Summerfare production ten years ago (now on video), Peter Sellars made Zerlina a battered Chicana wife in Spanish Harlem, but hearing Kriha Dye sing "Batti, batti" ("Beat me, beat me") to the jealous Masetto reminded me that Zerlina too exercises considerable power over the men in her life.
The rest of the cast was more than equal to the standard set by Ulrich and Kriha Dye. As Donna Anna, Cristina Lamberti's voice was more resonant than beautiful, but in Act II she relaxed into a rich, nuanced rendition of the showpiece aria "Non mi dir" supported by lovely woodwind playing from the orchestra. Cynthia Clayton (Donna Elvira) has some ravishing low notes and was lovely to listen to in Elvira's gentler moments, but a metallic edge too often crept into the voice in the upper register. And where Sellars had made Giovanni and Leporello identical twins and alter egos, this master and servant were opposites. Ulrich played up Giovanni's smooth and sleazy side, while Hector Vasquez' Leporello excelled at the rustic and the broadly comic. John Bellemer brought a rare dignity to the role of Don Ottavio, lending "Il mio tesoro" an unusual and effective muscular quality, and Roger McCracken made a sympathetic Masetto. David Livingston Tigner served well as the Commendatore
The pit orchestra sounded first-rate throughout, and conductor Michael Morgan achieved a stunning, sonorous blend in the large ensemble numbers, even if he underplayed some of the most dramatic moments, too often tiptoeing past changes of tempo and mood. The chorus, under the direction of Nathaniel Lew, made a beautiful sound, an effect aided by the excellent acoustics of the sensibly-sized Hoffmann Theater.
Giulio Cesare Perrone's set was minimal but attractive: a series of four frames one inside the other, with a curtain that fell occasionally over the smallest stage-within-a-stage at the back. Berman placed many of the more melodramatic moments--the Commendatore's death, Anna's and Ottavio's oath of vengeance, Giovanni's descent into hell--within the smallest, curtained area, as if to give visual expression to the opera's schizophrenic oscillations between comedy and high tragedy. Without ever becoming stiff or artificial, this device suggested that the opera's tragic moments were somehow self-conscious, acutely "framed" while the comic action unfolded closer to the audience, and so appeared more natural.
Perhaps because of this leaning toward the comic Berman did not quite know what to do with Elvira. She can seem both ridiculous and deeply human as she falls again and again for Giovanni, oblivious to all evidence of his faithlessness. Berman skirted the issue by playing her as an alcoholic. She tippled away during Anna's and Ottavio's ravishing duet in the finale, while Leporello munched on Giovanni's abandoned feast at the other side of the stage. The effect was clever but ultimately cynical, suggesting that the excess and libertinism of Giovanni's "Champagne aria" continue even after his demise and making the closing gestures towards emotional repair seem hollow. Such details hinted that Berman takes a dark view of Don Giovanni. If so, his cynicism was beautifully counter-balanced by the warmth and radiance the singers brought to the production.
(Mary Ann Smart teaches music at the University of California, Berkeley.)
©1998 Mary Ann Smart, all rights reserved
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