Pene Pati as Alfredo, Amanda Kingston as Violetta. |
Verdi’s La Traviata
April 14, 2018
There were some resounding voices coming from the California
Theatre Saturday as Opera San Jose gave The Lady of the Camellias the royal
treatment. The most startling of these belonged to Pene Pati, the New Zealand
tenor who has already become an Adler Fellow at San Francisco Opera and
performed for that company in Rigoletto as the Duke of Mantua.
Pati announced his presence right away, in the opening
scene’s “Di quell’amor,” delivering a tone that was (dare we say it?)
Lucianoan, gorgeously clear and fluid, with careful attention to phrasing and
rolled r’s (an art form in itself).The countryside monologues of the second act
were a delight, as Alfredo exulted in his new love. In the Act 2 party scene,
he showed that lyric can still be fierce, adding searing top notes to an
already tense situation.
Amanda Kingston is no surprise at all – we’ve been enjoying
her voice for a while now – but what really comes out here is her emotive
abilities.The vocal work of the “Sempre libera” scene, in which she ping-pongs
between love and freedom, is challenging enough, but she really makes us feel her dilemma. Over the course of the
opera, the quality of her acting makes one really understand the particular
tortures that Violetta goes through. After the death scene, I felt completely
wrung out.
Flora (Christina Pezzarossi), Violetta (Amanda Kingston) and Dr. Grenvil (Colin Ramsey) |
A distinctive magic emanated from the duets. Pati and
Kingston showed a rare ability to take intimate moments and project them to the
balconies. The a capella sections of “Di quell’amor” were particularly sexy.
Alfredo held on to the folds of Violetta’s dress as the two of them sang with
their faces inches apart, their voices seeming to mix there before flying
beyond the stage. This moment seemed to repeat itself in the final-act duet, ”Parigi,
o cara,” the last time that Alfredo and Violetta believe they might have a
future together.
After the listener has already been wowed by these two, in
walks Malcolm McKenzie, whose baritone is stunningly powerful.His character,
Giorgio Germont, Alfredo’s father, is problematic in that he performs terrible
misdeeds but is later supposed to elicit a certain forgiveness from the
audience. Given the raw materials at hand, McKenzie and stage director Shawna
Lucey wisely play Giorgio big and authoritarian. They signal his bad attitude
by having him abuse a servant on the way in. It could be that same power that
lends a certain weight to his deathbed mea culpas. (I’m still not buying it,
but that’s the story’s fault, not the performers.)
The OSJ cast demonstrates impressive strength in the
supporting roles. Soprano Erin O’Meally is lovely as Violetta’s maid, Annina,
lending authentic feeling to her concerns over her beleaguered mistress. Colin
Ramsey displays his fathoms-deep bass in the rather brief role of Dr. Grenvil.
Babatunde Akinboboye has entirely too much fun with Marchese D’Obigny, who
spends Flora’s party delving into domination, foot fetishes and cross-dressing.
Philip Skinner gives the Baron Douphol a delicious sense of entitlement (Skinner
has the perfect face for an opera aristocrat). And I was disappointed that
Mason Gates didn’t have more singing to do as Gastone.
Lucey’s direction inspired a lot of energy in the party scenes. The Act I fest is a barely
controlled chaos, and I appreciate the attention given to chorus members, who
are not just milling about but having their own little dramas (games of musical
chairs, beating each other over the head). At one point, a wayward couple walks
right between Violetta and Germont during their sung conversation, which is such a party thing. Flora’s Act 2 Spanish
party is even wilder, and the chorus women’s gypsy dances are amateur in the
best sense of the word.
This sense of attentiveness came out, also, in the pivotal
moments. The Cash Throw, in which the spurned Alfredo tosses a wad of bills at
Violetta, is one of the more deliciously rude moments in opera. Pati delivers
this with a bit of a backswing, like a bowler in a cricket match (and yes, I
had to look that up). Kingston reacted by dropping to her knees with a crazy
smile (as if to say, “How much worse can this get?”) and collapsing into the
arms of her friends. The whole scene is incredibly tense. From there, the women
reject their men one by one; my companion, Lady Platinum, disliked the sameness
of the motion, as it negates the snowflake variation of relationships. The men
line up in a tuxedoed squadron against the interloper (not knowing that he’s
not really at fault, either).
Violetta (Amanda Kingston) and Giorgio Germont (Malcolm McKenzie) |
Then there’s the Sudden Death, Violetta’s surge of energy just
before she passes. In this case, she embraces Alfredo and then suddenly goes
limp in his arms. This is another case of Lucey directing to the traits of her
singers. Pati is a large, powerful man, so lifting Kingston as the curtain
falls is a doable feat, and a striking image.
I am still trying to figure out how conductor Joseph
Marcheso began the overture without the standard conductor’s applause. Very
sneaky! I always enjoy his direction, but there were a couple of nits to pick. Kingston’s
“Sempre libera” cadenzas felt a little rushed, and a bit later he cut off an
applause. A particular highlight came in the haunting strings of the Act 3
prelude. Veronika Agranov-Dafoe’s rehearsal work was, as always, impeccable.
The unexpected standout among Elizabeth Poindexter’s costumes was Annina’s
brown traveling outfit, quite the smart number. Eric Flatmo’s set design was
particularly nimble, like a mannequin wearing different clothing for each act.
The country scene featured an especially attractive stone hearth.
The dance of the Gypsy ladies. |
I was telling my date about the $75 million renovation to
the California Theatre when there was a mixup with my tickets. An oddly
friendly older patron immediately adopted my case and took me to the box office
to straighten things out. I was just thinking, Who the hell is this guy? when he introduced himself
as David Packard, the man who renovated the theater! (Also, yes, heir to the
Hewlett-Packard techno-dynasty.) I was thrilled to offer him a very tardy thank
you for the California and Palo Alto’s Stanford Theater, and eventually, to get
my tickets. Perhaps next season I’ll run into Wozniak.
2 comments:
Can you give me the running time of Traviata? Intermissions?
Yes! 2 hrs, 45 mins with two 20-minute intermissions.
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