San Francisco Classical Voice

OPERA REVIEW

Merola Program

Il Matrimonio Segreto

August 6, 2006

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Secret Is Out(standing)

By Janos Gereben

It's no secret that the San Francisco Opera's Merola training program helps young singers embark on important careers. But it also produces professional-caliber performances. Case in point: Merola's production this weekend of Domenico Cimarosa's Il Matrimonio Segreto ("The Secret Marriage"). The music of this 1792 comic opera is a sparkling amalgam of Mozart (who died a year before Matrimonio's Vienna premiere) and Rossini, who was born a few days after the premiere. Cimarosa "sounds like" Mozart without the depth, and like Rossini without his irresistible, manic sweep — but unquestionably in that ballpark.

While the young singers performed beautifully, the apex of excellence came from the slightly older, post-training professionals: conductor Steven Osgood, who radiated the music joyfully from his whole body, and a small (31-piece), incredibly hard-working contingent of the Opera Orchestra. Led by concertmaster Tatiana Freedland, the strings laid down a firm foundation for the nearly three-hour work, all the better to show off the voices. You expect to see the violins heavy at it when they play Mahler or Stravinsky, but if you sit near the first violins in Cowell Theater in the Cimarosa, after a while your wrist begins to hurt in sympathy just from watching their nonstop action.

As to the dramma per musica on the stage, even by the standards of 18th century opera buffa, Matrimonio is light fare. Based on the George Colman-David Garrick play The Clandestine Marriage, it's a comic melodrama with conflicts that are resolved as soon as everyone has his or her say ... or aria. (Arias which, while pleasant, largely fail to stay with the listener.)

Story and cast in one easy paragraph

The secret marriage is between Paolino (David Portillo, tenor) and Carolina (Andriana Chuchman, soprano), a deed they keep hidden from her father, Geronimo (Kyle Albertson, bass-baritone). Complications arise when the English Count Robinson (Daniel Billings, baritone) pledges to marry Carolina's older sister, Elisetta (Caryn Marlowe, soprano), but, upon inspection of the premises, becomes far more interested in Carolina. The only other member of the small cast is Geronimo's sister, Fidalma (Jessica Vanderhoof, mezzo), who falls in love with the secretly married Paolino ... and so it goes.

In decades of attending Merola performances, I have seen few other productions with such evenly matched singers, such a level field of ability, and such true ensemble performance. Usually, there are "stars" and "others" among Merolini. This time, there was uniform fluency, professionalism, effective vocalism, even better acting, and fine all-around diction — no weak link ... nor an exciting "star."

Coming closest to the first-among-equals position was Chuchman, an Anna Netrebko look-alike, who demonstrated some vocal similarities to the former Merolina and now-diva Russian soprano, albeit without her silvery sheen. Chuchman's accuracy and consistency are impressive, along with her effortless production, but greater warmth in phrasing would have made her more of a standout.

Andriana Chuchman and David Portillo
at the dress rehearsal
Photo by Kristen Loken

Billings is a talented, hard-working singer, perhaps working too hard. The effort was clearly showing. He has the voice and the stage presence for a significant career, and with time, if he manages to do "less," it will count for more.

Portillo's sweet lyric tenor and his fine stage presence make a winning combination, but he obviously needs to build more stamina. Even in the intimate space of Cowell Theater, Portillo audibly weakened during his longest aria, starting out well but coming to a strained end. Marlowe, in her role of the comic Ugly Sister, sang and acted with consistency and restraint, wearing her preposterous golden clown-gown with a dignified sense of style. Albertson, a big man with a big voice, shouted through his Father Is Always Wrong role melodiously. Vanderhoof, faced with the challenge of playing the odd woman out, handled the role with aplomb.

Production values were sky-high, from Christopher Maravich's 1930s, Noel Coward-elegant sets to Kristi Lynn Johnson's rich, imaginative, tasteful (or, when appropriate, deliberately garish) costumes. Nicola Bowie's lively but never excessive stage direction and those fabulous Johnson costumes had a superb moment of fusion during the hilarious finale when the cast, one by one, flung night robes off to reveal formal wear, and then one of the actors threw his jacket off — indicating, but not actually venturing into, a collective Rossini-finale striptease. The performance also displayed impressive attention to detail, such as the use of vintage wooden tennis racquets, true to the period. All this plus Fidalma's little dog, which was stuffed but lively indeed.