Verdi's Power-Play Valentine

Aurelia Florian as Violetta. All photos by Cory Weaver.

San Francisco Opera

La Traviata
October 1, 2017
 
A lavishly appointed, vocally rich production brought out the finer points in Verdi’s romantic classic, elucidating perhaps the biggest misconception about the story. It’s not about love; it’s about power.
 
Traviata is considered one of Verdi’s “lighter” works, an understandable conclusion when viewed against the political intensity of works like Il Trovatore, Rigoletto and Macbeth. Traviata’s first act seems especially frothy, a Parisian soiree at which Alfredo Germont woos the beautiful courtesan Violetta Valery.
 
But power and how it is wielded has always been Verdi’s focus, and it doesn’t take long to arrive. In Act II, after Alfredo and Violetta have settled into their countryside house, Alfredo’s father, Giorgio, arrives to do battle with the woman he claims is “leading my son to his ruin.” As it turns out, Violetta has taken the proto-feminist move of financing their country retreat herself, by selling off her possessions. Germont responds to this news by decrying the shame of having his son supported by Violetta’s illicit career. (Clearly the man is an a-hole.)
 

Artur Rucinski as Germont.

Duly motivated, Germont brings out the big guns. He attacks their love affair: “One day, your charms will fade. He will grow bored.” Then he brings in religion: “God has sent me to you with this message… Someday He will reward you.” Then he appeals to her sympathy, claiming that the dishonor she has brought to his family is endangering his daughter’s impending wedding. This is what convinces her, but one has to wonder if she simply knows the sad truth: even though she is wildly successful at her chosen occupation, and even though that occupation is widely accepted in Paris society, there is no winning a fight with a nobleman.

He instructs her to “Tell him you don’t love him.” When he sees her pain, he has the gall to say, “I feel your suffering.” (Seriously, what a douche.) Verdi does his best to redeem Germont later in the opera, but I still consider him one of the more evil villains in the canon.

 
Artur Rucinski plays Germont as a cold-blooded assassin, civil and calm as he very nicely destroys his target. Rucinski’s baritone is rich and assured, a particular pleasure in “Di Provenza il mar,” a tribute to Germont’s family home.
 

Aurelia Florian as Violetta, Atalla Ayan as Alfredo.

Performing Violetta, Aurelia Florian’s soprano is a gift that keeps giving. The iconic wordless flights of “Sempre libera” seem to burst from her mouth as organic blossoms of sound, speech gone wild, and she delivers Violetta’s more ominous pronouncements in haunting piano phrases (to Germont: “We may not meet again”). She also maintains that tightrope balance of the death scene, giving beautiful melodies their due (“Addio, del passato”) while still managing to appear desperately ill, sometimes using harsh inhales to project the seriousness of her affliction.
 
Atalla Ayan performs Alfredo with a delicious tenor tone, quite lyrical but endowed with force at the necessary moments. His “Di quell’amor” is just the heartwarming serenade it’s intended to be, and he brings out the engaging musicality in the perhaps underappreciated passages at the opening of Act II.
 

Spanish dancers Lorena Feijoo, Bryon Ketron and Blanche Hampton.

Nicola Luisotti and his orchestra played even beyond their usual high standards, bringing out a notable delicacy in the overture and endowing other moments (e.g., the tremendous crescendo leading to Violetta’s plea, “Love me, Alfredo!”) with grand power. John Copley’s lavish 1987 production makes a return here, including the gorgeous paneled paintings of Violetta’s house in Act I (John Conklin, set designer) and the rich reds, purples and blacks of the ladies’ dresses (David Walker, costume designer).

John Conklin's set, from the 1987 John Copley production.

Bryon Ketron cut a dashing figure as the dancing matador at the Act II gaming party. Spanking the Marquis (the name of my next band) offered a surprising bit of slapstick. Florian performed a convincing dead faint as Alfredo threw money at her, but I prefer it when Violetta’s already on the ground, shielding herself from the cash as if she were being assaulted by hailstones. Regardless, it’s a deliciously humiliating scenario.
 
Through Oct. 17, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue. $26-$398. www.sfopera.com, 415/864-3330.


Michael J. Vaughn is a thirty-year opera critic, and author of twenty novels, including the recently released Figment, available at Amazon.com. Operaville was recently rated the eighth-best opera blog in the world by Feedspot.com.