San Francisco Classical Voice

In a production of Donizetti's most famous work, Lucia di Lammermoor, the San Francisco Opera presented a version filled with flaws. Fortunately, the evening was redeemed by two rising stars, two magnetic singers who satisfied almost everyone and left an indelible impression, Tracy Dahl as Lucia, and Ramon Vargas as Edgardo.

Tracy Dahl, originally slated to appear as Lucia in the second cast on October 23, replaced Ruth Ann Swenson, stricken with a viral infection.. On less than 24 hours notice, Dahl flew in from Canada for the October 12 opening and conquered the house. An announcement before the curtain begged the audience's indulgence, but it wasn't needed. Four hours of rehearsal for Dahl seemed enough for her to create a sterling performance.

Dahl is very short, sort of a round little bon bon, with fantastic coloratura ability. Interestingly, her diminutive stature worked in her favor in this role; she looked tiny and vulnerable. She acted persuasively, wringing her hands, dashing hopelessly around the stage, convincing as the hapless victim Lucia, forced into a desperate marriage that could drive her insane.

I also liked Vargas very much. His tenor was powerful, controlled, suave, on pitch, filled with all the virtues that make for legendary singing. He looks the part, he acts the part. In an environment of lackluster performances by lesser members of the cast, he rose to gleaming heights. His final aria, with its memorable haunting lines "O bell'alma innamorata," was so beautifully sung that it justified all the absurdities of this romantic opera.

. The rest of the opera was a let-down. Baritone Anthony Michaels-Moore as Enrico, Lucia's brother, has a large voice with an edge, snarling, and eventually unpleasant. While he's supposed to be that sort of character, Donizetti did give him attractive things to do and he messed them up. In the relatively large part of the Calvinist chaplain, Raimondo Bidebent, bass Reinhard Hagen's singing was boring, his acting dim. The tenor voice of Norman Shankle, an Adler Fellow, as the husband-to-be, Arturo Bucklaw, was too small for the surroundings.

This set design by Gerald Howland, originally seen in 1994, has gained nothing from the passage of time. It is still a mystery. The audience was forced to guess-- something surrealistic perhaps. It could have been a castle with uneven wall surfaces, squashed sideways into a rectangle with an open end in the back to show the moonlight and the trees. For a while it looked like a temple of ancient Egypt, fallen on its edge, with distressed columns and deep passageways. What it didn't convey in the slightest was Scotland at the end of the 17th century. Oh for the good, old-fashioned painted backdrops.

The costumes (Carl Toms) were drab, dour, and the lighting (Thomas Munn and Robert Hill) was mostly flat, with a bit of excitement in the newly-restored storm scene at Wolf's Crag (opening of Act III). The staging was routine, with the chorus standing like sticks through the wedding scene. True, nobody bumped into anyone, but the smell of stale oratorio hung over the proceedings. Sandra Bernhard repeated her blocking of five years ago: a minimum of action. The dull effect is unfortunate but not unexpected. Nobody treats this opera in an exciting, realistic way, and the world is fated to see "Lucia" in the perfunctory, stilted tradition that dooms much of 19th century opera.

A brief, unexpected moment in the staging actually suggested an incorrect reading of the story. The opening chorus of huntsmen, while telling Enrico, the villain, that the mysterious intruder haunting the grounds of Ravenswood is actually the villain's enemy, Edgardo, are meanwhile shoving a stranger around the stage, throwing him down, treating him viciously. Of course, everyone thinks this must be Edgardo. Wrong. A careful look at the text informs us this poor abused soul is a falconer who merely identified Edgardo for the huntsmen. Usually this character never appears on stage. He's barely mentioned. Why drag him about? It was gratuitous, insignificant and worse, misleading.

To the many people for whom the real attraction in Lucia is the music and the showy singing, dramatic sloppiness is not offensive . Dahl and Vargas were successful as artists even though their musical brilliance was dampened by a crippling influence, the conductor. Richard Bonynge has often led this work, but decades of experience hasn't improve his technique. Certainly not in command, he pushed his stick around as though hesitant, unsure. Entrances were off; the chorus was sometimes not with the orchestra. Bonynge hardly ever looked up or cued the singers.

The most disappointing moment was the mad scene, for many the raison d'etre of the opera. "Lucia" defines the genre with its famous mad scene, where the soprano, bloodstained and incoherent, enters into musical marriage with an orchestral flute. It is a difficult scene to carry off. It falters, stops, plummets into melodies, then interrupts again. Such musical fantasy needs a conductor confident enough to capture the rhythmic impulse that holds it together, even in the extended cadenzas (that are probably not by Donizetti). This mad scene cannot survive if the conducting is too slow. Bonynge let it become flaccid and uninteresting. Even with Dahl doing her part, performing fioriture that will put her in the hall of fame, the scene limped along.

Lucia di Lammermoor will receive another 10 performances, vying with La Boheme (12 times) in dominating the stage this season. It is one of the most popular of all operas, probably Donizetti's best. Some day here it might receive the performance it deserves.

(Marvin Tartak, a pianist noted for contemporary music, teaches a course in Opera at City College of San Francisco. He has written program notes for the San Francisco Symphony and Opera, also has edited two volumes of Rossini for the Fondazione Rossini, and is soon to embark on a third.)

©1999 Marvin Tartak, all rights reserved