San Francisco Classical Voice

Under David Rohbaugh's baton, the orchestra played the accompaniment and the passage that follows as one musician, filling the hall with overwhelming beauty. In that moment, the company rose fully to the greatness of the music. The audience's appreciation was reflected in the ovation that greeted company founder-director Irene Dalis at the next-to-last curtain call; more than an expression of civic pride, it also acknowledged the exquisite finale. As to the last curtain call, kudos to Opera San Jose and its chief benefactor, David Packard, for an eccentric but generous gesture that saw two large busts rolled onto the stage, Easter-Island tikis in gypsum, of Mozart and librettist da Ponte, to give credit where it's ultimately due.

The quality of singing varied through the long evening, but the orchestra, led firmly and effectively by Rohrbaugh, was consistent and impressive. With some weakness in the brass, this band of an unusual origin did itself proud. (Other opera companies have orchestras of their own, which usually also play for ballet performances; here, most players come from the defunct San Jose Symphony and its successor, the Symphony Silicon Valley, itself the creation of Ballet San Jose Silicon Valley. No need to figure this all out, it's just here for the record.) Bruce Olstad's Opera Chorus was right up there, singing lustily.

Stage direction, by English soprano Lorna Haywood, was traditional to a fault. However wrong the argument may be that opera is not "relevant" if it lacks something ugly, obscene or just stupid, direction that uses every old cliche, copies every move from classic productions, is not particularly thrilling either. If you've seen other "standard" productions of this opera, you could predict every moment, where the characters will stand, what they will do, who is going to hide where, etc. A little imagination, a bit of originality would have been welcome, even while Haywood's avoidance of what now appears in opera to be a mandatory display of bedroom or bathroom functions was commendable.

Giulio Ceare Perrone's sets were modestly, effectively palatial, a master craftsman at work, regardless of the likely lack of a royal budget. The same applies to Julie Engelbrecht's costumes, and Lise la Cour's economic and entertaining choreography.

Among the singers, Joseph Wright's Figaro stood out; his is a warm, sonorous baritone, a voice used with discretion and finesse. Sandra Rubalcava's Susanna and Jillian Boye's Barbarina made a finely-matched pair, both small in stature and voice, but singing accurately, and acting up a storm. Rubalcava especially is "born to the stage," moving and acting with confidence, commanding attention, smiles and caring from the audience.

Haywood, whose plain-vanilla staging may be questioned, deserves unqualified credit for getting a uniformly fine acting performance from the cast. Voices might have spanned a range from good to adequate, but everybody fulfilled the stage requirements of this complex work that demands both comic and dramatic abilities.

Cast A performs on September 21, 26, 28 and October 3 (matinee), Cast B on September 19 (matinee), 23, 25, and October 1, as follows: Figaro - Wright / Jason Detwiler; Susanna - Rubalcava / Aimee Puentes; Bartolo - Jesse Merlin in both casts; Marcellina - Molly McCabe / Kimberly Matthies; Cherubino - Michele Detwiler / Heidi Rae Kalina; Almaviva - David Babinet / David Britton; Don Basilio - Etsel Skelton / Adam Flowers; Countess - Berioli / Lori Decter; Antonio - David Cox; Don Curzio - Bill Welch; Barbarina - Boye / Jennifer Muhawi.

For more about the California Theater, see www.tinyurl.com/4qm4k and www.tinyurl.com/3o3kq. This may well be the world's only concert hall with an old-fashioned, glass-enclosed "crying room" you'd expect in a movie house or a church. If you are among the few misguided souls taking under-under-age young ones to concerts or the opera, the California Theater is just the ticket.