Random Thoughts on Opera San Jose's La Traviata

Mikayla Sager as Violetta. Photo by Dave Lepori.

Opera San Jose

La Traviata

April 19, 2026

Opera San Jose’s opening tableau features Violetta in a stunning white gown, sitting in a single spotlight as a trickle of red and white confetti drifts down from the flies. I love stage confetti, but how intriguing that this small stream signifies sadness, while a full rain of the stuff would mean unbridled joy. Little refugees escaped later in the performance, at one point a half dozen of the little rascals, hovering like red butterflies over the second act.

–Like anyone, critics have good days and bad, and at OSJ’s opening matinee I found that my ears were at a dog-like peak. I could hear everything. Our Violetta, Mikayla Sager, has a perfectly balanced vibrato, and when she reaches into the upper strata her voice creates a crystalline lacework of sound. Listening to her work through the mini-marathon of the opening act was a buffet of vocal desserts.

–Our Alfredo, WooYoung Yoon, is equally as lyric, but with a 13 percent share of spinto - just enough to give Alfredo a little force when the going gets tough. His flights above the staff bring a ringing bronze tone, and his attention to dynamics is fantastic. This especially showed in “Dei miei bollenti spiriti,” Alfredo’s Act 2 counting of his blessings, and in the duet section of “Di quell’amore,” which closes with an a capella section that comes across like a sculpture of sound.

–During that remarkable and famous Act 1 self-argument (true love or madcap adventures?), the maid Annina (Nicole Koh) removed Violetta’s skirt, revealing the hose and garters underneath. I understand stage director Tara Branham’s strategy - being more sexual and forthright about Violetta’s profession - but the combination of bare legs and the poofy top created an awkward asymmetry that distracted from the action. Other moves in this direction - a rather Fifty Shades relationship between Violetta and the Baron (Robert Balonek) - were more successful.

–Kidon Choi is a linebacker of a singer with a mountainous baritone. All this force created a very imposing Giorgio Germont, and intensified my utter dislike for the character. And it’s not just operatic veterans who feel this way. My companion, the Keyboard Queen, attending her first Traviata, whispered, “He’s such a D!” Perhaps in a time of old white men hanging on to power by destroying younger people’s lives, we’ve got extra incentives to despise Germont’s meddling. (Put him in a tie with B.F. Pinkerton for villains who don’t know they’re villains.)

–The K-Queen was quite amused by Flora’s Act 2 salon, especially the bullfight. The star was baritone Michael Jesse Kuo, who lent his height and great hair to a splendid faux Carmen, his black slacks and shoes still visible beneath her skirt. The chorus in general was rowdy and vivacious. I enjoyed the way they stacked up at the doors to spy on the budding love triangle at the opening party.

–Sager’s account of “Addio, del passato” was moving and desperate, well suited to the sobbing qualities in her voice. She also coughed up an impressive amount of blood, another directorial choice aimed at keeping things more “real.” The sunset light coming through the opened curtains was strikingly natural, some alchemical fusion cooked up by lighting designer Mitchell Ost.

–I enjoyed the work of conductor Johannes Lohner, who seemed especially attentive to the needs of his singers. Erik Flatmo’s set was especially versatile, using sliding walls to switch from Parisian apartment to country home.

–OSJ offers supertitles in both English and Spanish. With an opera this familiar, I found myself following the Spanish side just to brush up on my skills.

Through May 3, California Theater, 345 S. First Ave., San Jose. 408/437-4450, www.operasj.org. $56-$221.

Michael J. Vaughn is opera critic for the Palo Alto Weekly and the author of 31 novels, including his recent release, Semiprecious, available at Amazon.com.

An Electrifying Cav/Pag at Opera San Jose

Mikayla Sager as Nedda. Photo by David Allen.

Opera San Jose

Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana

Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci

February 15, 2026

Once in a while, a critic encounters a production that’s not about high concepts, big name singers or pyrotechnics, but mostly about getting every little thing right, allowing a masterwork (or two) to be the best incarnation of itself. Such is Opera San Jose’s Cav/Pag, which is simply the most beautifully crafted version of this popular twosome that you are likely to see.

Let’s begin with Stephen C. Kemp’s set, a charming Sicilian village that climbs its seaside cliffs all the way into the flies. The square is fitted with an elegant set of broad steps, a homey trattoria and a stately church entrance. Each little domicile has its own light that comes on at dusk, and the set of trees along the steps come in both Cav (oranges and leaves) and Pag (barren branched) varietals. I’m ready to move in tomorrow.

A morning tryst reveals the tragic flaw of our young Turiddu, a young horndog who has dumped his lover Santuzza to fool around with Alfio’s wife Lola. They hide away as villagers filter into the square for Easter mass. The people and their judgements prove to be an important element in the drama, and the OSJ chorus - along with members of the Vivace Youth Chorus - are excellent throughout, providing an ever-swirling background for the action.

Soprano Maria Natale lends her strong, broad tones to Santuzza, not only dumped by Turiddu but excommunicated for her scandalous behavior. The two bulls headed directly for each other, Turiddu and cart-driver Alfio, are equipped with plentiful servings of spinto and testosterone. Both tenor Christopher Oglesby and baritone Kidon Choi possess rich, powerful instruments. Choi stays surly throughout, but Oglesby shows a sensitive, lyric side, particularly in his frightened farewell to his mother before going off to do battle (his opening cry of “Mamma!” got an unexpected laugh). With his powerful build and an opening swagger-song reminiscent of Bizet’s Toreador Song, Choi’s Alfio is definitely not the guy you want to tick off.

Courtney Miller has an enchanting lyric mezzo, and I found myself wishing that Lola had more lines. She and her gang of shorter gal-pals gave off a comic aura of Mean Girls, which added to the opera’s critique of Catholic judgementalism. Mezzo Jill Grove gave a heartfelt performance of Mama Lucia, leading to a poignant final image of the town’s women gathering around her to offer condolences. (Whoever provided the blood-curdling offstage screams to report Turiddu’s killing needs to get a job in Hollywood stat.)

The evening did offer one big name: conductor Alma Deutscher, the former prodigy composer who continues with her OSJ relationship. Her graceful conducting style is always a pleasure to watch, and I especially enjoy her use of her left hand for crisp cutoffs and dynamic signals, reminiscent of a choir director. Deutscher’s orchestra brought out a particular sweetness in the strings, particularly in the early morning opening. What came out in Pagliacci were the many sturm und drang explosives of perhaps opera’s most passionate creation, underlined by a provocative use of percussion.

Shawna Lucey adds to her CEO duties by taking on the stage directing for this run, and the results are magnificent. During an early scene - the villagers excitedly greeting the traveling theater troupe - I noticed a standard scene of gamboling children near the church steps. But there was a specificity to it. The child performers had devised a game, whereby a swatter borrowed from the clown served as a weapon in a game of tag. These kind of fine touches went on constantly in the village’s background, signs of a director who wanted authentic little lives all across her created world.

The whole thing rests on Canio, the classic sad clown, and Ben Gulley’s early scenes had me a little worried. His tenor was not entirely “in the groove.” But no worries - he soon warmed up and caught fire, delivering a memorable reading of “Vesti la giubba” (arguably the best-known aria ever). The scene is both a reminder of the aria’s remarkable brevity and the frenetic pacing that leads to the violent ending. (Imagine finding out that your girlfriend has dumped you right before you give an important presentation at a conference.)

Soprano Mikayla Sager makes a charming Nedda and an even more enchanting Columbina (her commedia dell’arte persona); her voice went more lyric and her movements precise and playful. Her facial acting, as she realized that Canio was no longer acting at all, was fascinating to watch.

Kidon Choi returns from Cav-land to give an ebullient account of the Prologue (Leoncavallo’s commentary on the thin line between art and reality). He then plays Tonio, a sleazy hunchback performer who receives a kick to the groin for his advances on Nedda (rough night, Mr. Choi). Tenor Micah Perry shows a special talent for physical humor as Beppe/Harlequin; his best gag involved sitting in the audience and tossing popcorn at his mouth, purposely missing so he could pelt the folks in the row behind. And I loved Luis Alejandro Orozco’s rich baritone as Nedda’s lover Silvio.

All of which leads to the best damn ending I’ve ever seen. Canio, playing Pagliaccio the clown/wronged husband, gets louder and louder and starts hurling furniture around the stage. The villagers slowly realize that Canio is no longer acting and flee up the steps as he pulls out his knife. He corners Nedda and delivers a brutal double stabbing to the gut, causing the (real) audience to gasp almost as one. Canio brandishes his knife at the villagers, then turns back to see Silvio embracing Nedda’s crumpled form. He grins, having identified his target, and rushes in to finish the slaughter. The final tableau - Canio standing over his victims, stark lights coming in from overhead (Michael James Clark, designer), the square littered with chairs and cowering villagers - is a painting by Caravaggio. He raises his arms and delivers Canio’s infamous final line: “La commedia e finita!”

I mean, damn.

I am a connoisseur of these onstage “paintings,” and I had one for Cavalleria as well. Santuzza is sprawled across the broad steps, reaching for her departed Turiddu, an echo of Andrew Wyeth’s “Christina’s World.” The costumes in both one-acts were sublime, timed around World War I. Pagliacci was costumed by Cathleen Edwards, Cavalleria by Howard Tsvi Kaplan of Sarasota Opera.

One final note: my particular Valentine’s weekend included this Cav/Pag and an opening of Salome at West Bay Opera. Don’t accuse these companies of pandering to holiday marketing!

Through March 1, California Theater, 345 S. First Street, San Jose. $58-$215. 408/437-4450, operasj.org.

Michael J. Vaughn is an opera/theater critic for the Palo Alto Weekly and author of 31 novels. His latest, Semiprecious, is available at Amazon.com.