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| Irene Roberts as Carmen, Brad Walker as Zuniga. All photos by Cory Weaver |
May 27, 2016
Bieito sets his story in Ceuta, an autonomous Spanish city
in North Africa. The first-act location is less a village square than a small
military base. Not that location really matters. What’s more important is the
presence of modern-day dress and devices (selfies, cars), which serve to make
the story more relevant.
The sexuality is stronger, too. The rowdy Spanish soldiers
run a woman up the flagpole in her underwear. A couple duck behind a car for
feigned fellatio. The Torero (Marcos Vedovetto) performs a naked moonlight dance.
The latter, to Bizet’s lovely flute/harp entr’acte, is quite moving, and turns
out to be inspired by a ritual performed by matadors on the nights before their
debuts.
The story is also altered by the varied strengths of the
singers. Irene Roberts is a capable and beautiful Carmen, but in the case of
this role one is free to expect a little more charisma than usual, and this is
something Roberts simply doesn’t deliver. This lack has the effect of shifting
focus onto Don Jose. Tenor Brian Jagde is fully charisma-equipped, and his
lirico spinto is an amazing instrument, capable of producing violent
knife’s-edge outbursts as well as an aching, tender finish to the Flower Song.
In the final confrontation with Carmen, Jagde’s thunderous tone and physical
size (especially compared to the petite Roberts) makes this one of the scariest
Joses I’ve seen, and places Carmen much more in the position of pure victim.
The choreography of the final kill is raw, brutal and bloody (fight director
Dave Maier).
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| Zachary Nelson as Escamillo. |
Revival director Joan Anton Rechi makes some deft touches,
as well. The bullfight crowd scene bristles with energy, spectators flying into
the air behind the masses. The interplay of the smugglers and their poor,
abused Mercedes autos is vivid and fun.
Another intriguing power-shift goes toward Micaela, whose
love for Jose is more apparent than usual. The act of passing on his mother’s
kiss in a less-than-motherly fashion is a trendy move, but Jose brushing her
off to reminisce about his mother is priceless, along with Micaela’s miffed
exit. Later, having convinced Jose to leave his psycho girlfriend, she gives
Carmen the bird (Italian style), something I’ve always wanted to see her do. Micaela’s
new strength is aided by the voice of Ellie Dehn, who gave such a luminous
performance as The Countess in last summer’s Marriage of Figaro. The melody
associated with Jose’s mother is a heart-rending presence, and her sense of legato
in the mountain aria, “Je dis que rien ne m’ `epouvante” is divine. The horns
in this piece were rich and lovely; I also noticed that the strings under Carlo
Montanaro had a particularly sweet sound, especially in the first act.
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| Ellie Dehn as Micaela, Brian Jagde as Don Jose. |
Zachary Nelson was a likeable Escamillo, in the smooth,
James Bond style, but, as with Carmen, I felt like I needed a little more fire.
Frasquita and Mercedes (Amina Edris and Renee Rapier) were particularly fun,
and everybody wanted to take Frasquita’s white cowgirl boots home (costumer
designer Merce Paloma). The chorus and children’s chorus were both fantastic,
particularly in the supporting parts to Carmen’s Habañera (chorus director Ian
Robertson). And a singular bravi to
former Opera San Jose singers Daniel Cilli and Alex Boyer as the smugglers El
Dancairo and El Remendado. Cilli looked like a young Art Garfunkel playing a
pimp, Boyer a greaseball in powder blue; together they added great flavor to
the smuggling scenes. (Sadly, Montanaro’s light-speed tempo pretty much destroyed
the usually fun quintet, “Nous avons en tete une affaire.”)
Set designer Alfons Flores got the most out of his minimal
set pieces, including a telephone booth, a flagpole and a twenty-foot bull
silhouette, the latter inspired by the ubiquitous Spanish billboards for
Soberano brandy. The bull made its biggest impact upon removal, accomplished by
the stage techs by simply pushing it forward. The crowd gasped as it fell
slow-mo onto its face.
Bieito’s stated purpose was to “approximate the gritty naturalism”
of the opera’s source material, Prosper Merimee’s novella. To that I say,
mission accomplished. I hope SFO continues to prod classical operas in this
fashion.
Through July 3, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness
Avenue, San Francisco. $26-$395. www.sfopera.com,
415/864-3330.
Michael J. Vaughn is a 30-year critic and author of the
best-selling novel The Popcorn Girl.
