San Francisco Opera's Il Trittico

September 18, 2009

It’s impressive enough that Patricia Racette is delivering all three soprano roles in Puccini’s trio of one-acts; what’s even more impressive is the style in which she and her cohorts are doing it. Aided by sets and costumes from the 2002 New York City Opera production, SFO’s performance is a thoroughly satiating evening of opera, capped by a dazzling, Fellini-esque “Gianni Schicchi.”

The three-role trick demands a singer with versatility both vocal and theatrical, and Racette, a graduate of SFO’s Merola Program, certainly qualifies.Tackling the verismo potboiler of Il Tabarro, Racette performs the lusty, frustrated wife Giorgetta with a forceful, dramatic, tone, invested with a bit of a jagged edge.With Suor Angelica, she shifts to a classic Puccinian lyric, shaping her phrases with a light touch befitting the religious setting. Dramatically, her handling of the pivotal scene, in which she learns of the death of her illegitimate son, rang resoundingly true, and led the way into a mesmerizing performance of the beautiful “Senza mamma.”

Finally, she shifts to the Rossinian, opera buffa sensibilities of “Gianni Schicchi.” Racette sacrifices all for the laughter, trotting around in a pink Sandra Dee dress and heels and even marking up the revered “O mio babbino caro” with comic pouts and sobs. It’s a miracle that any one singer could make it through this panoply of styles (the last I knew of was Barbara Divis’s 2007 performance at Hawaiian Opera Theater), but then Racette is a pretty miraculous performer.

Not that she achieves all of this by herself. Il Tabarro offers tenor Brandon Jovanovich’s wrenching performance of “Hai ben ragione,” a tirade against the harshness of a stevedore’s life. Baritone Paolo Gavanelli achieves a fine balance with Michele, the sometimes-sympathetic, sometimes-scary husband, notably in his final, fatal litany of suspicions.

Angelica is rare for its all-female adult cast; this serves to accentuate the strength of SFO’s chorus singers, who are asked to sing together almost as a single entity, the sisterhood offering a running commentary on their eccentric peer. The stark contrast comes from contralto Ewa Podles, who applies her quirky stage presence to Angelica’s heartless aunt, The Princess.

For “Gianni Schicchi,” director James Robinson has assembled the most divine team of oddballs this side of “The Office.” The standouts include contralto Meredith Arwady as Zita, the enormous (both physically and vocally) bass Andrea Silvestrelli, and David Lomeli, who lends a brilliant tenor to the ingenue Rinuccio. The center, of course, is the title character, and Paolo Gavanelli, like Racette, displays an astounding ability to play both sides of the coin, recovering from the tormented Michele to play the crafty, cantankerous lawyer. His impression of the dead uncle, Buoso – upon which the family’s will-changing scam depends – is hilarious, with a few bits of Adam Sandler thrown in for good measure.

Allen Moyer’s “Schicchi” set – an astounding kaleidoscope of black-and-white checks – earned its own applause. Bruno Schwengl took his black-and-white costumes straight from a Fellini movie. The cast also made much use of the new electronic cigarettes, chain-smoking inside a dying man’s room as only a dysfunctional ‘50s clan could. Moyer’s “Angelica” set is a ‘50s model as well, a children’s hospital whose green-tiled walls, painted cabinets and miniature desks should evoke memories both good and bad for Catholic spectators.

It’s a joy to see Il Trittico in its original form (for the first time at SFO since 1952), especially for the testament it provides to Puccini’s virtuosity. It was almost as if the aging composer wanted to play a game of Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better, simultaneously paying tribute to verismo, the sacred music of his childhood and the great school of opera buffa. His very popularity has inspired a trendy new wave of Puccini-haters, but what’s irrefutable is that the man was an amazing musician.

Through October 3 at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco. $15-$310, 415/864-3330, http://www.sfopera.com/.


Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic and author of the opera novel “Gabriella’s Voice.” Look for his author page at amazon.com.

Image: Allen Moyer's Fellini-esque set for "Gianni Schicchi." Photo by Cory Weaver.

Manon, Opera San Jose, 9/12/09

It's a true delight when Opera San Jose ventures beyond the standard regional-company fare, especially when it pays off as well as it does with its recent opening of Massenet's "Manon. The reason lies squarely with its lead couple, soprano Khori Dastoor and tenor Alexander Boyer. Both singers display a deep knowledge and skill with both their characters and Massenet's music.

I could go on and on about Dastoor, who has developed into a masterful bel canto singer. The singer brings lyricism and sensitivity to Manon's opening aria, "Je suis encore tout etourdie," reaches an emotional peak with with the second-act "Adieu, notre petite table" (notably a thrilling double-forte cresendo suddenly cut off to the nearly whispered confession, "I am nothing but weakness and fragility"), then ventures into the prytechnical with the coloratura cadenzas of Manon's "brag-piece," "Je marche sur tous les chemins." Throughout, Dastoor brings out the light and dark sides that make Manon one of opera's most complex and compelling characters. It was a thrill to follow the artistry with which Dastoor shaped her lines, especially a couple of gorgeous 2nd-act diminuendos, and to enjoy the space afforded to her by Joseph Marcheso and his orchestra.

Boyer continues to make a mark with his powerful, lyric voice (and after Don Jose, finds himself in yet another sucker-for-the-ladies role). Tenors with Boyer's kind of tone can get away with murder (sorry, sopranos), but Boyer chooses not to, continually refining his approach. A good example is the third-act prayer, "Ah! fuyez, douce image" and the following duet with the repentant Manon, "N'est-ce plus ma main," in which he employs a lighter tone to bring out Des Grieux's emotional vulnerability.

The supporting roles are another strength: tenor Bill Welch, who makes the most of the comically hateful nobleman Guillot de Morfontaine; baritone Adam Meza, who enjoys himself a little too much as the caddish soldier De Bretigny; and bass Silas Elash, who lends the proper degree of gravitas to Des Grieux's father (who has that irritating quality of being insufferably right all the time). The only complaint is for baritone Krassen Karagiozov as Manon's cousin, Lescaut; he's fine vocally, but distractingly stiff in his movements.

I save a separate paragraph for "the actresses" - Pousette, Rosette and Javotte, played by soprano Jillian Boye and mezzos Cathleen Candia and Bettany Coffland. Massenet laces his party scenes with these three in the same way that Mozart decorates "The Magic Flute" with his Three Ladies, like a host serving up regular portions of creme brulee. Those three-part female harmonies are just sonically delicious.

The biggest surprise in the program was seeing the name of OSJ's General Manager, Larry Hancock, as set designer. No typo there. Already serving as supertitles translator, apparently Hancock's going to address these recessionary budgets by doing everything himself. The results for "Manon" were pretty impressive, a series of scenes designed not so much to be showy as to best augment the action. (Given Hancock's encyclopedic knowledge of opera, this is no surprise.) A couple of standout touches were the royal red bed canopy in Act 2 that rose all the way into the flies, and the creepy hand-like tree in the final scene on the road to Le Havre.

OSJ's new principal conductor, Joseph Marcheso, in addition to "playing nice" with his singers, is a hell of a lot of fun to watch; he's quite theatrical in his movements. He and the orchestra brought out all the subtleties in Massenet's work that are, perhaps the culprit in making him one of history's most underrated composers.

Through Sept. 27, California Theater, 345 S. First Street, San Jose. Alternate casts. $51-$91, 408/437-4450, http://www.operasj.org/.See the serial version of Michael's novel "Outro" at http://www.outronovel.blogspot.com/

Image: Alexander Boyer and Khori Dastoor. Photo by Chris Ayers.

La Traviata, San Francisco Opera, June 16, 2009

There are few young-singer programs as successful as those at San Francisco Opera, and the faithful gathered this week to welcome back one of their hotter alumni, soprano Anna Netrebko, who has been busily conquering the opera world. The occasion was a "Traviata" that excelled in spots but seemed rather lackluster in comparison to SFO's recent productions of "Tosca" and "Porgy and Bess."

Director Marta Domingo took an interesting and apt tack in updating the time setting from 1850s France to 1920s America, sending Violetta from courtesan to flapper without much consternation, and bringing her onstage in a stylish 1929 Buick. Domingo also had a lot of fun designing the lavish art-deco party set for Act II, providing a dazzling backdrop for the silent-movie costumery and dance divertissements, including some quirky era choreography by Kitty McNamee and a wonderfully athletic dance solo from Jekyns Pelaez as the matador.

The third-act set, an astral background of hanging lamps filtered through falling snow, received a few snickers from the purists, but to hell with the purists, I liked it. It also matched well with Netrebko's marvelously understated approach to Violetta's swansong, "Addio del passato," over a sensitively played layering of strings from Donald Runnicles and his orchestra. Netrebko played with the dynamics and phrasing with great facility, a contrast with the drier approach she applied to "Sempre libera" in the first act. I enjoyed the overlong pause that she and Runnicles applied before the opening cadenza of that piece (building anticipation among the aficionados) but was disappointed that she opted out of the final high E-flat.

As Alfredo, tenor Charles Castronovo was good but not spectacular, and did have his moments, notably when Alfredo denounces Violetta before the partygoers and throws a wad of cash at her to pay for their time together. He also sang beautifully in the final duet with Violetta, "Parigi, o cara."

Baritone Dwayne Croft delivered an able Germont, though I have yet to see a singer who can make up for this character's gross schmuckiness. It doesn't help matters that Croft failed to deliver the usual passion of "Di Provenza, il mar, il suol," Germont's salute to his family's homeland. And might I add a postscript compliment to lighting designer Mark McCollough, for the flickering effect in the autumn trees of Alfredo's country home. Well done!

Through July 5, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, $15-$290, http://www.sfopera.com/, 415/864-3330.

Image: Anna Netrebko as Violetta Valery. Photo by Terrence McCarthy

San Francisco Opera, Porgy and Bess, June 12, 2009

Every great once in a while, a critic faces that most daunting of tasks, writing about a production that has no flaws. Such a one is San Francisco's production of George Gershwin's "Porgy and Bess," a work of vastly misunderstood genius that has finally, in the past few decades, received its due. This derives largely from the efforts of SFO general director David Gockley, who oversaw the first-ever production of Gershwin's complete score in 1976 at the Houston Grand Opera, 41 years after the premiere of the opera's Broadway-ized version in Boston. That said, I'm now going to hand out compliments like party favors.

Our Porgy, baritone Eric Owens, is a force of nature, rumbling away at this powerful lead role and harvesting every bit of its pathos. His showpiece is "Bess, You is My Woman," but he also stars in "Little Stars," a deceptively calm and poignant prelude to the violent actions that immediately follow: the killing of Robbins by Crown, the resident bad guy of Catfish Row. (After Crown flees from the law, Porgy takes in his beleaguered girlfriend, Bess, and the tale begins.)

Bess, fixed firmly between the sweetness she has found with Porgy and the animal lust she feels for Crown, demands a fine balance. Laquita Mitchell, equipped with a full lyric spinto soprano, fills the bill well; she is all woman, and burns brightest in "I Loves You, Porgy," after her dalliance with the fugitive Crown on Kittiwah Island. Lester Lynch endows Crown with a delicious brand of animal depravity, earning a melodrama-style booing from the audience at curtain call. His physical presence was thrilling, especially in the fight with Robbins (eviscerating him with a cotton hook) and his abusive encounter with Bess in the Act II Kittiwah scene.

Playing Sportin' Life, the dope dealer once performed by the likes of Cab Calloway and Sammy Davis, Jr., is tenor Chauncey Parker. It's a hell of a lot to ask a single performer to produce operatic notes, jazz rhythms and an evening full of slick dance maneuvers, but Parker does so with aplomb, providing particular delight with the bible-thumper taunt "It Ain't Necessarily So" (featuring such classic Ira Gershwin rhymes as "He made his home in / that fish's abdomen").

The hope of the next generation is evoked by the newlyweds Jake and Clara, a fisherman and his wife bringing up a newborn babe. Eric Greene and Angel Blue play these parts with a great sense of joy, Greene with the rascally commentary "A Woman is a Sometime Thing," and Blue with the all-important framework song "Summertime." The song's oddly fetching match of happy lyrics and sad harmonic underpinnings gets its full explanation here, serving as both a hopeful prelude and, during a horrific hurricance, Clara's fearful reprise. Blue's performance of it, in both cases, is sumptuous. The most gripping song of all is "My Man's Gone Now," a funeral lament sung by Karen Slack as Robbins's widow Serena. Slack's rendition is heartbreaking and vocally spectacular.

The supporting ensemble is amazingly good, fueling Catfish Row with a constant flow of energy, as well as handling the difficult chorus parts, inspired by negro spirituals. Most thrilling of all was the uproar created at the finale of the hurricane scene, which was enthralling in its sheer power. Give credit to stage director Francesca Zambello and Ian Robertson for marshalling these forces, as well as Jonathan Rider for choregraphing the excellent fight scenes. The set design by Peter J. Davison - from a Washington National Opera production - sets the scene among towering metal walls and rusted railings, creating a warehouse-like atmosphere that is both rugged and beautiful. Giant fallen letters from a decrepit amusement park sign give the Kittiwah Island set a fantastical aura, like the ruins of an ancient civilization. John DeMain and his orchestra played with great vigor, attacking what must be a challenging score for orchestral musicians.

And about that score. As I implied before, Gershwin's original work was pretty much eviscerated, since no opera house would allow black performers and since the composer's Broadway backers wouldn't tolerate such a long and musically adventurous piece. Which is a profound shame, because the complete work presented here is truly a revelation. Steeped in folk, jazz and classical forms as very few composers could be (and having taken trips to South Carolina to study the Gullah culture that informs the story), Gershwin tapped into a spiritual singing style that fits the traditional forms of opera surprisingly well, backing these scenes with lush orchestral accompaniment, but also stepped out to pepper the score with the jazzier songs that had made his reputation. Stringing everything together with traditional recitative, he succeeded in blending all these elements into a purely American artform that, thanks to a nationwide myopia about issue both artistic and racial, died off as soon as it was created. It was perhaps too far-seeing for its own good, and it will now be up to a new century of Americans to see "Porgy and Bess" for the work of genius that it is.

Through June 27, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Ave., San Francisco, $15-$290, http://www.sfopera.com/, 415/864-3330.

Image: Eric Owens and Laquita Mitchell as Porgy and Bess. Photo by Terrence McCarthy.

San Francisco Opera, "Tosca," June 5, 2009

Tosca can be a physically brutal little opera, and SFO's latest production takes this notion to the hilt, stressing pure power in both its singing and acting. The energy of it all makes for an outstanding evening of theater.

With a magnificent series of tromp-l'oeil sets by Thierry Bosquet, inspired by a 1932 SFO production, and a straightforward approach to the music and action, the differences come largely in the small touches and decisions, notably those made by talented stage director Jose Maria Condemi. One must begin with Scarpia, played by Georgian baritone Lado Ataneli as a sort of creepy ringleader, choreographing events around him for his own maximum entertainment. At one point, he rushes to the front of the stage to reveal the torture being inflicted upon Tosca's beloved Cavaradossi, and the effect is almost like a magician announcing "presto chango" before a masterful illusion. Another particularly sleazy moment comes when he offers to take Tosca's wrap, then gives it a thorough sniffing before setting it down. He spends a large portion of the rest of his stage time pushing his lackeys to the ground - particularly the equally creepy Spoletta, Joel Sorenson, who does a lovely job of smacking the stage with maximum impact. Vocally, Ataneli doesn't quite have the lower-end gusto for the Te Deum, but his high baritone of serves him well for the rest of the performance.

Our Tosca, Canadian soprano Adrianne Pieczonka, brings a strong lyric voice to the role, and isn't afraid to go a little ragged for Floria's frightened screeches (particularly after Scarpia reveals the price she must pay for Cavaradossi's freedom). She also plays the opening lines of her "Vissi d'arte" a little breathy, accentuating her character's emotional torment, and finishes the aria with some beautifully wrought diminuendos. As an actress, Pieczonka makes an excellent showing of contemplating the carving knife that has made its way into her hand (almost channeling the approach Sarah Bernhardt used in Sardou's original play), then delivers a deliciously rough stabbing. And her final leap from the parapet is quite convincing (which is more than I can say for most of the Toscas I've seen).

Cavaradossi is played by Carlo Ventre, who sings the part with a rugged lyric spinto, and delivers his top notes with a lushly broad, bronze tone. He excelled in his "E lucevan le stelle," but perhaps was even better in the arioso that follow, "O dolci mani."

In the supporting roles, Dale Travis invests his sacristan with a delightful array of tics and nervous gestures. My favorite among the costumes (costume supervisor: Jai Altizer) is Scarpia's Act II coat, purple with intricate white embroidery. Marco Armiliato's orchestra was strong throughout, especially the horns and percussion, who took great pleasure in Scarpia's thunderous motif (is there better entrance music in opera?).

Puccini's use of motif in the opera is an endless well of discoveries, and this time around I found phrases from the first-act duet "Mia gelosa" ("My jealous one") floating around as Scarpia pursued his Iago-like endeavors to use Tosca's jealousy against her. It's also a constant pleasure to study the way Puccini uses different musical forms against each other: Scarpia's vows of conquest played against the congregation singing the Te Deum, the confrontation of Scarpia and Cavaradossi against the cantata sung by Tosca in the neighboring church, and the shepherd's song (performed by Zachary Weisberg) used as a prelude to the painter's morning execution, a scene whose quietude and comings-and-goings harken back to the tollgate act of "La Boheme." It's fashionable these days to downplay Puccini's talents (and seemingly to punish him for his popularity) but it's stupid to deny this level of musical mastery.

Through June 26 at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness, San Francisco. $15-$290, 415/864-3330, http://www.sfopera.com/.

Side notes: The opera was simulcast to AT&T Park, the stadium of the baseball Giants, and the principals took their bows wearing Giants paraphernalia (the sacristan, for instance, with a "#1" foam finger). They did, however, miss a prime opportunity: Scarpia should have appeared wearing the jersey of the hated rival Dodgers. Walking to the performance, it was impossible not to think of the movie "Milk," which told of the assassination of gay rights leader Harvey Milk, a crime which took place directly across the street from the Opera House at City Hall. The movie made brilliant use of scenes from "Tosca" to foreshadow Milk's murder. One of the singers in those excerpts was tenor Joe Meyers, a friend and choirmate from my college days, which made it, for me, even more personal.

Image: Adrianne Pieczonka (Tosca) and Lado Ataneli (Scarpia).
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Sacramento Opera, La Boheme, May 8, 2009

About the 30th time you see La Boheme, you begin to focus on the itty-bitty particulars. Thus, I am here to report that Sacramento Opera stage director Chuck Hudson opted for a bowl of pickled herring instead of the usual cartoonish prop-fish in the final scene, that the baguette was, indeed, employed in the mock duel (reinforced by a steel rod, no less), and that the sight gag used to demonstrate the failings of Musetta's new shoes was a naughty sit-down can-can.

A more important decision was the use of an upstairs loft over the tollgate in Act III, to host parts of the double-couple interplay - but this may not have been a decision at all, since the sets were borrowed from the University of Cincinnati. Brian Ruggaber's design is pretty nifty - the Paris skyline literally flies away to open up the fourth wall -but the higher elevation of the singers had the unfortunate effect of sending their voices directly into the flies. This added to the already-challenging acoustics of the Sacramento Community Theater and the sometimes overboisterous playing of Tim Rolek's orchestra.

Still, the production featured some strong young singers, equipped with quirks that were sometimes problematic, sometimes intriguing. This came through especially in the garrett scene, whose trio of hit arias did not strike gold the way they usually do. Adam Flowers was fighting his passagio in "Che gelida manina" (thought his top notes were fine), and NaGuanda Nobles sang a hurried "Mi chiamano Mimi" that refused to blossom in its usual fashion, not even at the rapturous turn when the spring sunrise comes to Mimi's windows.

With Flowers, this seemed to be simply a matter of warming up. He was back to form in the tollgate duet with Mimi, "Donde lieta usci," and downright captivating in his final-act duet with Marcello, "Ah, Mimi, tu piu non torni." As for Nobles, it turned out that "Mi chiamano" simply didn't take advantage of her outstanding feature, a sultry lower range that came to the fore in the tollgate scene and made the death scene even more devastating than usual.

I am forever amazed by Rochelle Bard's chameleonic ability to match her voice to a role. Though she's capable of broadening her tone to the depth of a lyric-dramatic when it's called for, she chose to rule that quality out completely and sing Musetta as a pure Rossinian lyric. This added an extra degree of coloratura to Musetta's famed Waltz, and allowed Bard to reveal, through deft phrasing and a gorgeous final messa di voce, the longing behind her character's seeming bragadoccio. She also does a pretty good can-can, and bosses around her Alcindoro (Burr Phillips) in an extremely amusing fashion.

As for Marcello, who continues to be my favorite of the bohemians, Nicolai Janitzky is not much more than perfect, his baritone resounding but never forced, his characterization a fine balance of Marcello's machismo and painterly sensitivity. He was the other reason that the final Marcello/Rodolfo duet achieved such a profound level of intensity. (And a brief plaudit for Tom Corbeil, who did a fine job with Colline's Coat Aria.)

Sacramento Opera's volunteer chorus was superbly energetic; Hudson led them to a degree of barely controlled chaos in the Cafe Momus scene, which is just about right (and did so without the usual scrambling children). The silver lining to the orchestra's occasional overplaying was that they were also spot-on, bringing out all the fine colors of Puccini's score. I also enjoyed the company's supertitle projection, which allowed for additional lines to be added to a single frame. This allowed the translations to more closely match the singing.

The sign of a masterwork is that, even on a 30th viewing, the listener is still making discoveries, and this time I made at least two. One arrived as Musetta was warming Mimi's medicine over a candle, saying, "Don't let the flame go out." I apologize to librettists Giacosa and Illica for not noticing this before. The other was the suspended note from the strings at the moment of Mimi's death. Puccini is the master of playing the audience's emotions, and yes, you bastard, for the 30th time you made me cry.

Through May 12. Sacramento's '09-'10 season includes "The Elixir of Love," "La Traviata" and an evening of opera music by Tchaikovsky. 916/737-1000, http://www.sacopera.org/.

Image: NaGuanda Nobles and Adam Flowers as Mimi and Rodolfo. Photo by Sacramento Opera/Eleakis Photography.

Opera San Jose's Carmen, April 18, 2009

Sometimes it takes all night to figure out a voice, and such was certainly the case with Opera San Jose's Alexander Boyer, whose powerful tenor had a way of dominating the opening night of the company's "Carmen." Boyer's reading of Don Jose's famed Flower Song fully displayed the lyric ring of his instrument, but there was something else lying at the edges of his timbre, yet to be uncovered.

That something began to reveal itself in the mountain scene, as Jose got into louder and louder squabbles with his Carmencita, and came to full fruition in the final scene at the bullfight: a primal, slashing edge to his tone that began to bounce off the walls the further he fell into his character's desperate, ruined mindset. Boyer delivered an emotional welling-up full of stalker creepiness, leading up to a well-choreographed stabbing and a nice post-mortem kiss just to put a little Stephen King icing on the cake. I don't know if I've ever sat through a Carmen finale filled with so much tension, or a more fortuitous match of a singer's talents with a role's requirements.

The production marked the stage-directing debut of former OSJ singer Sandra Bengochea (nee Rubalcava), and though her ensemble work is a little rough around the edges, you have to enjoy her leanings toward chaos and an action-packed stage. This came through in much of the side-work: the hijinks of the boisterous smuggler duo Dancairo and Remendado (Stephen Boisvert and Bill Welch) and the intriguing decision to take the first-act catfight (usually recounted after-the-fact) and bring it onstage.

As our heroine, Cybele Gouverneur, born of Venezuelan parents, begins with the advantage of just plain looking like Carmen. The mezzo does well with upper ranges and elevated emotions - as in the final two scenes - but opts for a covered tone that can sometimes mute the lower reaches, as in the opening Habanera. (When the range dips truly low, however - as in the ominous Tarot song, "En vain pour eviter les responses ameres" - the results are downright spooky.) Gouverneur also needs more work with the "rhythmic gymnastics" portion of the program, the percussion and dancing tasks of Lillias Pastia's tavern.

As Micaela, Rebecca Davis delivers the same lovely lyric soprano we've heard in previous productions, but with a few odd problems with breathing and phrasing, particularly in the showpiece aria, "Je dis que rien ne m'epouvante." She's much stronger soon after, in Micaela's brief report of the impending death of Jose's mother. Bulgarian baritone Krassen Karagiozov plays Escamillo with a James Bond smoothness that's almost too smooth. The part could use a little more vigor. I have always been a sucker for the sopranos who are cast as Carmen's sidekick Frasquita, and Jillian Boye certainly continues that tradition, playing the part as a kind of gypsy goth girl.

The OSJ chorus was a little off its game, taking an unfocused approach to Bizet's difficult parts, and carrying on a few quibbles with conductor David Rohrbaugh over entrances and tempos. This also happened with the rapid smuggler's quintet, "Nous avons en tete une affair." The orchestra, on the other hand, was spot-on all night, particularly with the gorgeous entre'acte and the festive bullfight anthems that follow. Set designer Giulio Cesare Perrone uses brick archways and slate steps to produce a warm public square, but his mountain set seems a little artificial. I'm also rather fond of the new stage cigarettes, which allow performers to simulate smoke by blowing powder out the ends. And, as always, the decision to use Bizet's original spoken dialogues will always receive a thumbs-up from these parts.

Opera San Jose, Bizet's "Carmen, through May 3, California Theatre, San Jose, $69-$91, 408/437-4450, http://www.operasj.org/.

Image: Cybele Gouverneur as Carmen. Photo by Chris Ayers.