The Lyric Opera's production is sensitive to both of the competing elements in La Cenerentola, though it is more successful with the romantic than with the farcical component. As Don Ramiro, the Prince who makes a princess of the scullery maid, Jimmy Kansau combines a tenor voice that is large, lyrical, and well controlled, with an authoritative stage presence that portrays a convincing and often touching romantic hero. But the star of the show is Clea Nemetz. Her Cenerentola traverses the growth from shy kitchen maid to mature and commanding dispenser of justice with a warmth that is always believable, and her mezzo-soprano voice is nothing less than spectacular in its power, agility, and beauty.

The rest of the cast provides splendid support. Razvan Georgescu as Don Magnifico handled his patter arias with élan; Joshua Brown as Dandini displayed a vocal versatility appropriate to his disguises; and Sergei Zadvorny's strong bass voice, in his role of the Prince's mentor Alidoro, supplied a solid floor to the ensemble. Cenerentola's stepsisters, Tisbe (Kathryn Palumbo) and Clorinda (played alternately by Heidi Moss, in the performance reviewed, and Krista Wigle) deserve special notice for the trueness and clarity of their singing. Listening to the climactic sextet at the end of the second act, in which the bemused characters reflect in awe at the confused situation to which the plot has taken them, one felt a kind of joy that such a well-matched group of virtuosi was performing.

Barnaby Palmer, Artistic Director of the company, provided a steady beat and kept the singers. the orchestra, and an eleven-man chorus under tight control. At my seat the small orchestra sometimes seemed to overpower the singers, and there was an occasional tendency to begin numbers loud and let them remain so rather than to honor Rossini's characteristic building towards climaxes; but the orchestra was nevertheless an improvement over the chamber groups of earlier days in the history of the Lyric Opera, First violinist Kristina Anderson's lyrical style deserves particular praise, even though she showed signs of fatigue towards the end,

The dramatic aspect of the opera fared less well. Cenerentola's sisters indulged in a kind of exaggerated generic silliness which wasn't funny; similarly Razvan Georgescu, as Don Magnifico, wore a comic mustache, threw his arms about, and exaggerated his behavior in predictable comic shtick that, like his daughters' antics, did little to suggest real character. Only Joshua Brown, as the Prince's valet and stand-in Dandini, created an identifiable character and brought some finesse to the broad comic style of the production. The satisfying professionalism of their singing far outweighed the excesses of the staging; nevertheless,the consistent high spirits of the comic scenes were an effective contrast to the sentimental side of the opera.

Jean-Francois Revon's setting, for reasons that I fail to understand, was “the Hamptons, Long Island, New York in the ‘20's.” (In a program note Stage Director Razvan Georgescu makes a claim that the period of the ‘20's “is itself a fairytale” and postulates connections “between Rossini's ‘pattern' of music and cubism, between spoiled daughters and women's emancipation, between characters' attitudes and the remarkable fashions of that period.” This reviewer does not find the explanation convincing.) Neither of the two sets worked well; in particular. the scenery for Prince Ramiro's country mansion was rather cluttered with stage furniture, forcing the singers and chorus into a single row at the front. Perhaps this is why too often characters seemed to be looking at the audience rather than interacting with each other.

Julian Leiserson was the stage manager. David Ransom was lighting designer; his work was good except for a distracting silhouette of the conductor that adorned the ceiling of the theater for at least part of the evening. Costume design was by Emily Erlich Inget. Her greatest success was the red suit worn by Dandini when impersonating his employer; her greatest failure the white wedding gown worn by the triumphant Cinderella.

La Cenerentola is a long opera, and some cutting may have been necessary, but it was a little indiscriminate. The musically wonderful rainstorm that topples the Prince's carriage in the second act is missing, perhaps because of the difficulty of staging it (one recalls Ponnelle's tour de force in his local production). It is harder to explain the absence of Ramiro's “Zitto, zitto; piano, piano,” a marvelous bit of Rossinian comedy.

Focusing on some shortcomings of the production should not convey the impression that the San Francisco Lyric Opera's La Cenerentola is anything less than terrific. It is heartening to be reminded that there are singers with the ability, companies with the courage and imagination, and audiences with the enthusiasm to make such an event possible.