Opera Review: In San Francisco, a world premiere examines a little-known World War II horror

Act I prayer scene
©Cory Weaver/San Francisco Opera

Who: San Francisco Opera
What: Two Women by Marco Tutino
Where: The War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco
When: through June 30, 2015

New operas can be a crapshoot, but San Francisco Opera has pretty much rolled up a winner with "Two Women" ("La Ciociara"), running through the end of June. Based on the 1958 novel "La Ciociara" by Alberto Moravia (and "informed by" Luca Rossi's screenplay for De Sica's famous 1960 film, "Two Women"), the libretto by Fabio Ceresa and composer Marco Tutino could use a bit of fine-tuning, but the lush neo-romantic score is filled with wonderful stuff.

"Two Women" is the story of Cesira, a strong-willed widow and Roman shopkeeper, and her daughter Rosetta and their attempt to flee the increasing violence of the campaign to liberate Italy. After her shop is nearly destroyed by Allied bombing, Cesira prevails upon Giovanni, her supplier of semi-legal goods, to take her and Rosetta to Cesira's birthplace in the mountainous Ciociaria region outside Rome. The thuggish Giovanni agrees, but extracts payment in the form of a sexual assault during the bombing.

Cesira, Rosetta, and Lt. Buckley
©Cory Weaver/San Francisco Opera

In the mountains, Cesira encounters and falls in love with Michele, a young pacifist, and together they save the life of John Buckley, a downed American pilot. The intervention eventually costs Michele his life, thanks to betrayal by Giovanni, who opportunistically swears loyalty to the Fascists.

Cesira and Rosetta hit rock bottom at the end of the second act when, seeking refuge in the bomb-damaged church in the village of Sant'Eufemia, they are raped by Moroccan troops fighting for the Allies under French command. The assault badly traumatizes Rosetta and nearly destroys her relationship with Cesira. In the end the two women reconcile and find strength in their love for each other, but it's a hard road for both.

The rape, it should be noted, is an event drawn from historical fact. The Moroccan Goumiers, colonial troops of the French Expeditionary Corps, were, in fact, given carte blanche to loot, pillage, and rape by French General Alfonse Juin as a "reward" for their fierce fighting against the Nazis. By one estimate, as many as 7,000 women were raped and as many as 800 family members killed by the Moroccans for attempting to defend the women.

Cesira, Rosetta, and Goumiers
©Cory Weaver/San Francisco Opera

This is pretty strong stuff—verismo on steroids—and Mr. Tutino gives it the widescreen treatment with an unabashedly romantic and very dramatically effective score. Mr. Tutino has gotten some criticism for writing in an overly conservative style, but as someone who has heard far too much music in which the notion of melody has been ruthlessly suppressed, I found it refreshing.

You can hear Puccini's musical fingerprints here, but even more prominent, to my ears, was the work of the great Italian cinema composers of the late 20th and early 21st century. Nino Rota comes immediately to mind, but so do Riz Ortolani (best known for his "Mondo Cane" score) and Ennio Morricone.

There is, in fact, a strongly cinematic cast to the entire production. Video projections by S. Katy Tucker (whose innovative work has been featured at several St. Louis Symphony concerts recently) are used to create virtual sets as well as special effects like the Allied bombing of Rome in Act I, while excerpts from World War II documentaries serve as a stark reminder of the cost of occupation. Extended video sequences, accompanied by long musical interludes, are used for some of the scene changes. Not surprisingly, director Francesca Zambello, whose sure hand keeps everything flowing smoothly, describes herself in her program note as a great fan of the "Golden Age of Italian Cinema."

Mark Delavan as Giovanni
©Cory Weaver/San Francisco Opera

The cast for this opera is a strong one all the way around. Soprano Anna Caterina Antonacci is a force of nature as the formidable Cesira—a vocal powerhouse and deeply committed actress. As Rosetta, soprano Sarah Shafer radiates vulnerability and backs it up with a wonderfully expressive voice.

Baritone Mark Delavan has the unenviable task of giving life to the appalling Giovanni, a character that is part Iago, part Scarpia, and all sociopath. Giovanni is, according to Mr. Tutino, intended to be the personification of what he sees as the real villain of the piece: the institution of war. Playing a symbol is not the easiest of tasks, but Mr. Delavan manages to suggest that there may actually a human being in there somewhere, repellent as he may be. And his voice is impressive, with great low notes.

Tenor Dimitri Pittas's Michele is appealing and sympathetic, while tenor Joel Sorenson and mezzo Buffy Baggott provide some rare comic relief as the spineless lawyer Sciortino, who helps betray Michele to the Nazis, and his clueless mother Maria, who doesn't understand why her dinner guests keep disappearing. Other performers of note include baritone Edward Nelson as Lt. Buckley, baritone Christian Van Horn as an oily Nazi officer, and singer-songwriter Pasquale Esposito as a local lad who entertains the village during its liberation party with the popular Italian song "La strada nel bosco" ("The Path in the Wood")—bits of which are threaded throughout the opera's score.

Cesira and Allied soldiers
©Cory Weaver/San Francisco Opera

San Francisco Opera music director Nicola Luisotti conducts the seventy-piece orchestra with great authority and an obvious love for the music, and the musicians play exquisitely.

"Two Women" is certainly not without its issues. The misfortunes heaped upon Cesira and Rosetta feel, at times, so overwhelming that numbness begins to set it. And the character of Giovanni is almost devoid of any real psychology—the hazard, I suppose, of being more symbol than human. Still, it's one of the more potent and theatrically satisfying new operas I have seen lately, and the San Francisco Opera is to be commended for producing it.

"Two Women" has two more performances on Sunday and Tuesday, June 28 and 30, at the War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco. It was interesting to see it immediately after Berlioz's "Les Troyens" which, even in SFO's somewhat anti-war staging, still tends to treat war as a mostly heroic undertaking. "Two Women" is a reminder of just how little heroism there can actually be in armed conflict.

Opera review: In San Francisco, a Berlioz blockbuster

Trojan Horse
Photo: ©Cory Weaver, used by permission

Who: San Francisco Opera
What: Les Troyens by Hector Berlioz
Where: War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco
When: June 7 - July 1, 2015

"Once in a Lifetime!" proclaims the poster for the San Francisco Opera's lavish production of Hector Berlioz's mammoth 1858 drama "Les Troyens" ("The Trojans). For many of us in the Music Critics Association of North America attending the June 12th performance as part of our annual conference, that was the literal truth. Which still put us one up on Berlioz.

By the time Berlioz died in 1869, only the last three of his five acts had been performed, and then only in a drastically truncated and badly produced version by the Théâtre Lyrique, the Paris Opéra having dithered over it too long. The first full production didn't take place until 1890, and even then it languished for most of the 19th and early 20th century, taking on the reputation of (in the words of Berlioz biographer Ian Kemp, quoted in the program) "a monster so unwieldy that it had to be split in two and trimmed to size."

Act I Chorus
Photo: ©Cory Weaver, used by permission

That reputation wasn't entirely undeserved. Running five hours or so (depending on the number and length of intermissions) and requiring a huge cast, massive orchestra, and elaborate stage machinery (including, of course, the Trojan horse), "Les Troyens" requires pockets and a talent pool of considerable depth.

Happily the current SFO production—which originated at the Royal Opera, Covent Garden, in 2012 and will go on to La Scala and the Vienna State Opera—has musical, dramatic, and technical talent in abundance. It has all the spectacle, heart, and fire (including actual pyrotechnics) needed to bring Berlioz's sweeping musical canvas to life. It's utterly engrossing and the shortest five hours I have ever spent anywhere.

The story of "Les Troyens" begins on the eve of the fall of Troy, as the Greek army has apparently fled the scene, leaving behind only the fabled horse, which despite the dire warnings of Cassandra, the Trojans take into the city. The opera goes on to chronicle the fall of Troy, the suicide of the Trojan women, and Aeneas' tragic affair with the Carthaginian queen Dido. It ends with Dido's suicide and a chorus of vengeance by the Carthaginian people.

Entrance of Didon
Photo: ©Cory Weaver, used by permission

Through it all Berlioz (who wrote his own libretto, after Virgil's "Aeneid") cannily mixes intimate solos and duets, massive choral scenes, elaborate ballet sequences, and vivid instrumental writing (he was, after all, a master orchestrator) in ways that are guaranteed to keep the viewer engaged. "Les Troyens" gives us the great sweep of historical events and the implacable hand of fate, but never lets us lose sight of the intimate human relationships that are at the core of the story.

Heading the cast are mezzo Susan Graham as Didon (Dido) and tenor Bryan Hymel as Enée (Aeneas). Ms. Graham's voice has a full, silky quality that has won her international praise and matches it with tasteful acting that makes her character's heartbreak all too real. Mr. Hymel makes Enée's conflict between the demands of his heart and the dictates of his destiny completely credible, and does so with flawless vocal technique.

Mezzo Michaela Martens was Cassandre (Cassandra) the night we saw "Troyens" (she alternates in the role with Anna Caterina Antonacci). She is a vivid presence on stage, with an emotionally dark and rich voice and fiercely committed acting that projects her character's rage and despair with tremendous force. Baritone Brian Mulligan is equally convincing as Cassandre's doomed lover Chorèbe (Chorebus).

Love scene from Act IV
Photo: ©Cory Weaver, used by permission

Mezzo Sasha Cooke (who was so impressive in the San Francisco Symphony's "Missa Solemnis") is a warm and sympathetic presence as Didon's sister Anna, and bass-baritone Christian Van Horn (a first-rate Karenin in Opera Theatre of St. Louis's "Anna Karenina" back in 2007) is an imposing Narbal, minister to Didon.

There are a host of other fine performances in smaller roles, but there are a few I feel compelled to single out, beginning with an irresistible cameo as the poet Iopas by tenor René Barbera (a thoroughly ingratiating Nemorino in Opera Theatre's "Elixir of Love" last summer). Berlioz has given the character one enchanting little number—a hymn to the goddess Ceres—and Mr. Barbera sang it in a clear, fluid, and utterly lovely way that produced spontaneous shouts of "bravo" as soon as the last note died out.

Bass-baritone Matthew Stump and bass Anthony Reed also deserve praise for their brief star turn as the only real comic characters in the opera—a pair of Trojan sentries who grumble about being forced to leave the comfort of Carthage and schlep off to Italy. The scene comes at a point in the opera where a little comic relief is welcome, and both singers hit the dramatic sweet spot—funny but not too broad and expertly sung.

Dido and Ascagne
Photo: ©Cory Weaver, used by permission

Backing up all these exemplary performances is Ian Robertson's chorus, singing with precision, clarity, and often overwhelming power. The chorus is kept quite busy in "Les Troyens," so the importance of their work can't be overstated. The huge orchestra (95 players, includes 23 backstage and offstage) performs brilliantly under Donald Runnicles, giving a thoroughly compelling reading of Berlioz's wonderfully varied and bracing score. That includes many exotic touches such as offstage brass choirs and unusual instrumental combinations.

Ballet plays an important role in "Les Troyens" as well. The French always loved seeing dances in their operas, but Berlioz uses dance for narrative purposes as well as for sheer spectacle. The famous "Royal Hunt and Storm" of Act IV (often heard as a stand-alone concert piece), for example, tells almost the entire story of the courtship of Didon and Enée without a single word being sung. The choreography of Lynne Page and David Greeves is executed here with tremendous flair by a skilled corps de ballet.

This production's original director, Sir David McVicar (Leah Huasman is credited as Revival Director), moved the action of the opera up to 1855, with Troy designed to resemble the battle of Sebastopol in the Crimean War. That vision is vividly realized by Es Devlin's sets and Moritz Junge's costumes. Troy is all dark colors and metallic surfaces, for example, while Carthage shines in bright desert hues (the Carthage set of Act III generated applause as soon as the lights came up). The 23-foot-tall Trojan horse is the stuff of nightmares: an imposing skeletal monster bristling with wheels and gears.

Act IV finale
Photo: ©Cory Weaver, used by permission

The intent, according to the SFO press release, was to make "a strong statement on how throughout history humanity is destined to repeat its mistakes." That's not as revisionist as you might think; to quote Mr. Kemp again, Berlioz's opera "is Virgilian in countless ways" including "the sense of fatality, of obscure inimical powers that lie in wait for man, and of the madness that can strike a people and drive it blindly to its own destruction." Both Virgil and Berlioz lived in times of great political upheaval; it seems entirely reasonable for a production of "Les Troyens" to reflect that. When, during the final chorus of vengeance, an armed giant composed of the same industrial components as the Trojan horse rises up behind the singers, it feels more inevitable than imposed.

"Les Troyens" is both a tragic love story and a commentary on the stupidity of war, and deserves to be seen. It runs through July 1 at the War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco in rotating repertory with "The Marriage of Figaro" and "Two Women".