Opera Review: Lyric Opera of Chicago finds an extra layer of story in Verdi's "Rigoletto"

Re-interpreting or updating a 19th-century opera in a way that speaks to a 21st-century audience without ignoring or (worse yet) contradicting the intentions of the work’s original creators is a dicey business. Now imagine upping the risk ante by using the existing design elements of a 19-year-old production.

L-R: Igor Golovatenko, Mané Galoyan
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

That was the challenge director Mary Birnbaum faced in her Lyric Opera of Chicago debut, Giuseppe Verdi’s 1851 tragedy “Rigoletto,” which runs through October 1st. You know the story: The Duke of Mantua amuses himself by seducing and abandoning any woman who takes his fancy. His jester Rigoletto finds the Duke contemptable but mocks his victims (it’s his job, after all) while trying to hide the existence of his daughter Gilda from the Duke’s libido. When that fails, he hires the assassin Sparafucile to eliminate the Duke, with tragic consequences.

As Birnbaum writes in the program, this is a tale set in “a world where women were completely absent.”

[T]he out-of-court Duchess of Mantua (in a striking parallel with the Last Duchess in the poem of Robert Browning, Verdi’s contemporary) is present only in a fresco on the wall. Rigoletto’s wife is an angel (but she is dead)…Even when women are dressed as men—like the Page, or Gilda in the final act—they are always lacking some critical piece of information, and, as a result, are disenfranchised.

They’re also treated as objects, even by the men who claim to love them. Rigoletto treats Gilda like a china doll, telling her nothing about her late mother and refusing to even reveal their family name. She exists only to give him comfort in his self-loathing and despair. No wonder she is such easy prey for the Duke when, disguised as a poor student, he sends smoldering looks her way during church services.

L-R:  Igor Golovatenko Soloman Howard
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

On paper, then, Gilda looks like the classic Innocent Victim and is usually presented as such. But could there be a more rounded character lurking the subtext? “What if,” Birnbaum asks, “Gilda was a partial agent rather than a victim? What if she has been thinking of other ways to escape the perpetual and suffocating nameless present that her father has trapped her in?”

What if, in short, she wants “a life with a name of her own” even if the price is surrendering to the Duke’s advances and choosing to die in his place at the hands of Sparafucile?

Impressively, Birnbuam manages to suggest all of this without significantly changing the staging or introducing heavy-handed visual gimmicks—almost. In the first two acts we see Gilda searching a hidden cache of family documents during orchestral interludes. In her scenes with Rigoletto the blocking suggests her ambivalence about her situation.

I bought it all until the very end, when her decision to let Sparafucile kill her inexplicably turned into a swordfight (where, exactly, did she pick up that skill?). And I was ready to demand a refund when Gilda’s dying vision of her late mother as an angel welcoming her to heaven becomes an actual actress in an angel costume, neatly stealing focus from Rigoletto’s final tragic despair.

L-R:  Javier Camarena ,Zoie Reams
Mané Galoyan, Igor Golovatenko
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

Oh, well. Up to that point this is a powerful, dark, and often horrifying “Rigoletto.” Verdi described the jester as a character “worthy of Shakespeare,” and baritone Igor Golovatenko’s powerful voice and riveting stage presence fully live up to that description. His snarling sarcasm in Act I is as compelling as his tearful attempts to appeal to the courtiers for help in finding Gilda ("Cortigiani, vil razza dannata"). And there is real tenderness in his scenes with Gilda.

Speaking of whom, soprano Mané Galoyan finds the kind of self-assertion in Gilda that director Birnbaum sees in the character. Verdi has given Gilda a musical arc, moving from the juvenile infatuation of the coloratura classic “Caro nome” to the fierce determination of the trio in which she resolves to sacrifice herself for the Duke (“Se pria ch'abbia il mezzo la notte toccato"). Galoyan brings an enchanting naivete to the former and puts steel in her voice for the latter.

Verdi illustrates the Duke’s charm by giving him some of the best tunes in the opera, including the excessively famous “Donne a’ mobile.” Attractive but superficial, they perfectly fit the Duke’s shallow personality. A bel canto specialist, tenor Javier Camarena is possibly the perfect fit for the role, with a light, flexible voice and character that is credibly charismatic.

Javier Camarena and the Company
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

Bass Soloman Howard’s bold voice rumbles with menace as the selectively honorable assassin Sparafucile and mezzo Zoie Reams is Sparafucile’s sister Maddelena, easily seduced by the Duke despite her worldly wisdom. Baritone Andrew Manea makes a fine Lyric debut as an imposing Monterone, whose curse is the musical and dramatic backbone of the opera.

Sets and costumes by, respectively, Robert Innes Hopkins and Jane Greenwood are perfect matches for the dark, violent, and morally rotten world of the Court of Mantua. The contrast between the colorful vulgarity of the court scenes and the drab look of everything else works quite well. Duane Schuler’s lighting is dark as well—possibly more than it needs to be.

Andrew Manea and the Company
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

Lyric Opera’s Music Director Enrique Mazzola leads the orchestra in a dramatic and gripping reading of Verdi’s score, from the thundering brass statements of the “curse” motif at the beginning right through to Rigoletto's final despairing howl of "La maledizione" ("the curse") at the end. The first act’s court scenes with the stage band and the pit orchestra were well coordinated.

If you’re willing to forgive a bit of directorial overkill at the very end (which, upon reflection, I am), this is a very persuasive and original take on an operatic favorite. In the final analysis, it’s good to see Gilda given more agency and depth than she has on the printed page.

Lyric Opera of Chicago’s “Rigoletto” runs through October 1st, alternating with the company’s new production of Beethoven’s “Fidelio.” Ticket information on this and other operas in the company’s current season is available at their web site.

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Opera Review: Lyric's "Trovatore" embraces darkness

L-R: Russell Thomas, Tamara Wilson, Artur Rucinski
Photo by Todd Rosenberg

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The story line may not make much sense and the principal male characters are studies in testosterone poisoning and bad judgment, but nevertheless Verdi's 1853 tragedy "Il Trovatore" ("The Troubadour") has proved to be one of the most enduring hits produced during his "Middle Period" in the 1850s. I have some complaints about the staging of Lyric Opera of Chicago's production, which I saw in its final week, but overall I found it very compelling.

"Il Trovatore" is classic romantic Italian opera, with doomed lovers, a witch's curse, babies switched at birth, jealousy, violence, and death--everything you might want at this festive time of year. You can find a complete plot synopsis on Wikipedia, but let's just say that if "Il Trovatore" has a message, it might be "don't mess with the Gypsies."

Jamie Barton
Photo by Lyric Opera of Chicago

According to opera and theatre critic Charles Osborne the great Enrico Caruso is said to have once observed that all it takes to perform "Il Trovatore" is the four greatest singers in the world. Happily, all of the singers in Lyric's cast are vocal powerhouses as well as respectable actors--a good thing, given the emotional hell to which librettist Salvadore Cammarano subjects them.

Tenor Russell Thomas, who sang so beautifully in Lyric's "Norma" in 2016, scores again as Manrico, the titular troubadour who has won the heart of Leonora and, as a result, the enmity of the brutal Count di Luna. Soprano Tamara Wilson makes an excellent Lyric debut as Leonora, easily launching notes into the stratosphere and tugging at the heartstrings, most notably in the agonizing Act IV.

L-R: Artur Rucinski, Russell Thomas
Photo by Lyric Opera of Chicago

In his Lyric debut, baritone Artur Rucinski is the arrogant and lustful Count di Luna. His powerful voice and committed acting combine to produce a gripping portrayal of a man whose hormones have entirely destroyed any principles he might have once had.

The role of Azucena, Manrico's retribution-obsessed mother, is one that invites some scenery chewing, and mezzo Jamie Barton gives it her all without ever tipping over into parody. I have seen her do admirable work previously, not only at Lyric at also at Opera Theatre of St. Louis and Glimmerglass, and her superbly sung performance here does not disappoint. Bass Roberto Tagliavini is a strong Fernando, making the expository "Di due figli vivea padre beato" at the top of Act I a riveting story.

The "Anvil chorus"
Photo by Lyric Opera of Chicago

The chorus is very important for Verdi, and chorus master Michael Black's singers are consistently powerful, precise, and varied in their performances, filling the stage with interesting individual characters. Conductor Marco Armiliato and the orchestra deliver a virtuoso reading of the dramatic score. And, yes, they deliver an impressive "Anvil chorus," complete with the requisite hardware.

Originally presented at Lyric in the 2006-2007 season, when it was directed by Sir David McVicar (Roy Rallo is the revival director), this "Trovatore" is, according to Lyric's press release, "set in the smoldering atmosphere of darkly mysterious 15th-century Spain, inspired by the evocative paintings of the Spanish artist [Francisco] Goya." Both Charles Edwards's relentlessly bleak set, with its massive, ruined walls, and Chris Maravich's generally dim lighting certainly add to that atmosphere. They create a pervasive sense of doom, but they also can make it hard to see the faces of the performers. The sheer size of the set also means that the turntable used for scene changes moves rather slowly, which can be awkward at times.

Roberto Tagliavini
Photo by Lyric Opera of Chicago

The violence implied in the libretto is also demonstrated a bit too graphically at times on stage, as in Act III when de Luna's men physically abuse the captured Azucena before dragging her off.

Still, this is a worthwhile staging of Verdi's drama, and if you're a fan of the opera you certainly will not be disappointed. Sung in Italian with English supertitles, it runs through December 9th at Lyric Opera of Chicago; visit their web site for information on their season, which runs through May 2019.

Opera Review: Some enchanted evening

The ball scene, Act II
Photo by Todd Rosenberg

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The production of Jules Massenet's 1899 opera "Cendrillon" ("Cinderella") that opened at Lyric Opera of Chicago on December 1st, while new to Chicago, originated back in 2006 at Santa Fe Opera. It has accumulated some good reviews over the years, and it's not hard to see why.

Let's start with Massenet's score. Some critics have turned up their noses at it, but I found it to be a good match for librettist Henri Cain's expansion of Charles Perrault's fairy tale--colorful, often witty, sometimes touching, and unfailingly tuneful. In his program note, Lyric Opera dramaturg Roger Pines calls the score "wonderfully varied," and I have to agree.

Siobhan Stagg
Photo by Todd Rosenberg

Then there's the fanciful visual design from director and costume designer Laurent Pelly and set designer Barbara De Limburg. They have set the opera literally in Charles Perrault's book, with the text of the opening pages (in French) painted on all the set pieces. When Lucette (a.k.a. Cendrillon) gets in her enchanted carriage, she is literally sitting on the word "carrosse" (French for a horse-drawn carriage), and the two-legged horses that pull her have Perrault's text painted on their coats. And, yes, they're tail coats.

The silly outfits for Mme. de la Haltière (Cendrillon's stepmother) and her two airhead daughters perfectly match their cartoonish characters which, in Cain's version of the story, are much more foolish than wicked. And the wildly whimsical costumes for the princesses vying for Prince Charming's hand provoked plenty of laughter when we saw the show.

L-R: Amy Pogorelc, Elizabeth Bishop,
Kayleigh Decker
Photo by Todd Rosenberg

The visual design concept is, in short, perfectly suited to the material. It goes astray only in Act III, scene 2, when it departs from that material by moving the action from an enchanted forest to the far more prosaic rooftops of Paris. It felt out of synch with both the words and music, and led to some awkward staging in the sequence in which Cendrillon and Prince Charming can hear each other but can't see each other because of a magical flower barrier. Here they just crossed back and forth without looking at each other, which felt clumsy.

As is so often the case at Lyric Opera, the cast is a fine one, headed by Australian soprano Siobhan Stagg as Lucette/Cendrillon. The Act III aria in which she bids farewell to the modest joys of her home was truly touching, and she positively beamed in the ball sequence. Bass-baritone Derek Welton was equally impressive as her henpecked father Pandolfe, hilarious in the comic moments and credibly earnest in the dramatic scenes with Lucette.

Marie-Eve Munger
Photo by Todd Rosenberg

Mezzo Elizabeth Bishop is a real scene stealer as the hilariously awful Mme. de la Haltière. The Act III aria in which the character pompously boasts of her supposedly noble lineage is a bit of deluded self-admiration that could have come from a Trump tweet, and she delivers it with flawless comic precision.

Soprano Emily Pogorelc and mezzo Kayleigh Decker unfailingly hit the comic target as Noémie and Dorothée, Lucette's brainless stepsisters, and mezzo Alice Coote has some very moving scenes in the pants role of Prince Charming, as well as a wonderful duet with Ms. Stagg in the forest/rooftop scene.

Derek Welton
Photo by Todd Rosenberg

Marie-Eve Munger brings a lightness and grace to the coloratura role of the Fairy Godmother, with a voice that seems to float over the role's long, elaborate lines with ease.

Lyric's Music Director, Sir Andrew Davis, conducts an assured and nicely paced performance of the score, with some wonderful solo work by members of the Lyric Opera orchestra. Original choreographer Laura Scozzi and revival choreographer Karine Girard provide inventive and often brilliantly silly movement for the ballet scenes.

The Lyric production of "Cendrillon" may not be perfect, but it is certainly great fun, and might make a good introduction to opera for children or others new to the art form. Sung in French with English supertitles, it runs through January 20th at Lyric Opera of Chicago; visit their web site for information on their season, which runs through May 2019.

Review: Lyric Opea of Chicago's spectacular "Turandot"

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Stefano La Colla
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

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Turandot is one of the most popular and, in many ways, most controversial of Puccini's operas. Left unfinished at the time of the composer's death in 1924, it has never been given a fully satisfactory finale. At the opera's premiere, in fact, legendary conductor Arturo Toscanini stopped the performance after the last note actually composed by Puccini, turned to the audience, and said, "At this point the Master laid down his pen."

These days, the common practice is to move on to a triumphal final scene, assembled from Puccini's sketches by Franco Alfano, in which Turandot declares her love for Prince Calàf and everyone more or less lives happily ever after.

In the program for the Lyric Opera of Chicago's exemplary production of Turandot, which runs through January 27th, 2018, director Rob Kearley talks about the many challenges a stage director faces in dealing with this theatrically compelling but often bizarre work, including the question of that final scene. He finally decided to go with Alfano's finale, despite acknowledging that it "cannot be said to represent the master's vision" and that it "leaves one feeling compromised." Sometimes, I imagine, the weight of history is just too great.

Stefano La Colla and Amber Wagner
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

Which makes a certain amount of sense, as the oppressive presence of the dead hand of history is part of the subtext (intentional or not) of the opera. Based on an old Persian fairy tale as retold by Italian playwright Carlo Gozzi, Giuseppe Adami and Renato Simoni's libretto tells the story of the misandryst Chinese princess Turandot. In revenge for the torture and murder of her ancestress, Turandot forces her many suitors to answer three riddles to win her hand. Failure means death, and as the opera opens the body count is already fairly high, but Turandot seems unwilling (if not unable) to escape her past.

Witnessing the execution of the latest loser, Prince Calàf falls instantly in lust with Turandot despite warnings from his blind father Timur, the slave Liù (in unrequited love with Calàf), and palace functionaries Ping, Pang, and Pong. He answers her riddles, poses one of his own, and finally wins her, generating his own share of death and misery along the way.

That's the Cliff's Notes version, anyway. Wikipedia has a far more detailed synopsis. The bottom line, though, is that Turandot and Calàf are two of the more appalling characters in operatic literature. The former is clearly unhinged; the latter a callow youth determined to possess his lust object regardless of who gets hurt (quite literally, in Liù's case) in the process. Puccini's music redeems them somewhat, but ultimately Turandot's story is a fairly unpleasant business, which is why Alfano's happy ending feels so false.

Zachary Nelson, Rodell Rosel, and Keith Jameson
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

Despite all that, the Lyric Opera production delivers plenty of musical and theatrical excitement. That finale is still creepy, but it's also undeniably thrilling. Such are the contradictions of Art.

The role of Turandot is difficult for many reasons. She doesn't sing a note until the second scene of Act II, at which point she needs to quickly dominate the stage. In the next act, she has to completely change from cold autocrat to swooning lover after a single forced kiss from Calàf. It's a hell of a challenge, but soprano Amber Wagner, whose big, rich voice enhanced Lyric's Tannhäuser two years ago, is more than up to it. When she describes the horror that made her the avenging angel she has become (the aria "In questa reggia" in II, 1), she's riveting, while her sudden defrosting in the next act feels equally real. That's no small accomplishment.

Tenor Stefano La Colla makes Calàf's obsession with Turandot as credible as possible, and does so with a solid-gold voice. He gives the character the irresistible energy that he needs. I do wish he hadn't decided to break character to bow to the audience after "Nessun dorma," though.

Maria Agresta
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

The commedia dell'arte trio of Ping, Pang, and Pong might have been nothing more than comic relief in the hands of lesser composers and librettists, but Puccini and company added a layer of complexity to them in their second-act trio, in which they lament their service to the homicidal Turandot and long for bucolic homes. Baritone Zachary Nelson (Ping) and tenors Rodell Rosel (Pang) and Keith Jameson (Pong) have voices that blend beautifully and bring out the pain that coexists with the trio's sarcastic humor.

Every Puccini opera has a suffering heroine. In the case of Liù that means both romantic yearning and physical torture. Italian soprano Maria Agresta (who will be replaced in January by Janai Brugger) makes an auspicious Lyric debut in this role, turning in a performance of lyrical beauty and passion. Also making his first appearance at Lyric, tenor Josh Lovell cuts an imposing figure as Emperor Altoum and bass Patrick Guetti is nicely menacing as the Mandarin who reads Turandot's decree at the beginning of the opera.

Andrea Silvestrelli shines in the small but important role of the deposed king Timur. I had just seen him the night before as the stern Nourabad in Lyric's Pearl Fishers, and the contrast between them demonstrated his range as an actor.

The chorus and children's chorus carry much of the narrative weight in Turandot, especially in the vast blocks of exposition that constitute the first act. Chorus Master Michael Black can be justifiably proud of their remarkable work here, as they sing with overwhelming power and precision. Bravi, all.

Sir Andrew Davis leads his massive forces, including the offstage brass, in a reading of the score which, while tending to favor slower tempi in many places, nevertheless delivers all the drama one could wish.

Josh Lovell and Amber Wagner
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

I can't complete this review without heaping praise on Allen Charles Klein's opulent and evocative sets and costumes. Originally designed for the Dallas Opera, they create a compellingly surreal atmosphere. Vividly suggesting a semi-mythical China, the set is dominated by a rather deranged-looking dragon and a massive scrying globe. I had a Lord of the Rings flashback when Turandot's massive eye suddenly appears in it in Act I. The elaborate costumes, with their massive, flowing sleeves and striking colors, complete the effect. Masks and makeup inspired by classical Peking opera add to the overall impact.

Mr. Kearley's direction pulls this all together to create a theatrical experience of stunning power. Yes, all of Puccini's unsolvable problems are still there--as, I expect, they inevitably must be--but this all works so well that it ultimately doesn't matter. If you want to understand why this flawed masterpiece continues to appeal to audiences, make your way to Lyric Opera of Chicago before their Turandot orders her last execution on January 27, 2018. You won't regret it.

Review: A whimsically colorful "Pearl Fishers" at Chicago Lyric Opera

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Mariusz Kwiecheń and the company
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

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Georges Bizet's 1863 opera The Pearl Fishers (Les pêcheurs de perles) is a classic example of a weak libretto bolstered by a very strong score. The Lyric Opera of Chicago production, which originated with San Diego Opera in 2004, takes it up a notch with theatrically canny direction by Andrew Sinclair, colorfully fanciful sets and costumes by Zandra Rhodes inspired by Indian and Balinese art and, most importantly, really splendid singing by all four members of the cast.

Nobody expected much from the 24-year-old Bizet when he was handed the libretto of The Pearl Fishers. Yes, he had just won the prestigious Prix de Rome, but his big hit Carmen was still 12 years in the future and his only previous opera was the one-act Le docteur miracle. Indeed, he only got the commission by the Théâtre-Lyrique because a noble patron had given the company a large endowment specifically to stage operas by Prix de Rome winners.

No surprise, then, that the team of Eugène Carmon and Michel Carré put only minimal effort into a hastily assembled mashup of the then-current novel L'île de Celan et ses curiosités naturelles (roughly, "The Isle of Ceylon and Its Natural Attractions") and La vestale, an 1807 opera by Gaspare Spontini about a vestal virgin whose hormones get the better of her.

The story about Ceylon pearl fishers Zurga and Nadir, lifelong friends driven apart by their mutual love for the priestess Leïla, makes little dramatic sense, but Bizet surprised everyone by setting it to some irresistible music. "Au fond du temple saint," the Act I duet in which the two men swear that their earlier infatuation with Leïla will never part them again has become something of an operatic Greatest Hit and the rest of the score is filled with equally appealing stuff.

Andrea Silvestrelli and Marina Rekeba
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

Polish baritone Mariusz Kwiecheń, so impressive in the title role of Lyric's Eugene Onegin last season, once again commands the stage as Zurga, whose election as king of the pearl fishers is interrupted by the unexpected return of Nadir after years of absence. Mr. Kwiecheń's authoritative voice and credible acting go a long way towards mitigating the role's absurdities. Tenor Matthew Polenzani's passionate Nadir is equally worthy of praise, clearly sung and smartly acted. Their "bromance" duet was warmly received the night we saw the show.

Latvian soprano Marina Rebeka displayed a soaring, gravity-defying voice in Leïla's Act II "Comme autrefois dans la nuit sombre," a vocally elaborate number in which she recalls her earlier romance with Nadir. Like her co-stars, Ms. Rebeka delivered a fully realized character, and her second act love duet with Mr. Polenzani struck real sparks.

Bass Andrea Silvestrelli rounds out the cast, giving vocal and dramatic weight to the small but pivotal role of the stern high priest Nourabad.

The clarity and power of the Lyric Opera chorus has never failed to impress me in the past and their work here is no exception. Bizet has given them some prime material, like the hymn to Brahma that closes the second act, and they more than do it justice. The orchestra did well by the score as well, under Sir Andrew Davis's experienced direction.

Dancers in Act II
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

In his program note, director Andrew Sinclair acknowledges the theatrical weakness of the opera's libretto and talks about the small tweaks he has made to give it a bit more coherence. When Nadir makes his first appearance, for example, Mr. Sinclair has Zurga greet him with a dismissing pro forma handshake, suggesting that there is still some bad blood between them. The tension continues during "Au fond du temple saint," which begins with the two singers on opposite sides of the stage. They don't actually come together until the final moments of the number, which gives the song more dramatic weight and hints at the gulf that might still exist. It's one of many strong choices that add credibility without undercutting the intentions of the opera's creators.

Mr. Sinclair has also added a dancing chorus, with choreography by John Malashock that feels strongly inspired by Indian and Indonesian folk traditions. The dancers play a strong narrative role, adding visual interest to elaborate choral numbers like the Act II scene in which Zurga condemns Nadir and Leïla to death for blasphemy.

Combine all that with those imaginative visuals from Ms. Rhodes and the result is a Pearl Fishers that is a delight to both the eye and ear. Bizet and his librettists never had it so good.

Lyric Opera's The Pearl Fishers runs through Sunday, December 10th, at their theatre in the Chicago Loop, alternating with their equally splendid production of Puccini's Turandot. Both are well worth a trip to the Windy City.

Review: A triumphant "Norma" at Lyric Opera of Chicago

This review originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Russell Thomas and Sondra Radvanovsky
Photo: Cory Weaver

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We arrived in Chicago the last weekend in February just in time for the final night of Lyric Opera's splendid production of Vincenzo Bellini's Norma. With a truly memorable performance by soprano Sondra Radvanovsky in the absurdly demanding title role and a first-rate supporting cast, this was a demonstration of just how compelling a great bel canto opera can be.

The role of Norma, the Druid high priestess who loves neither wisely nor well, is widely regarded as one of the most difficult roles in the repertoire. It's a big part, and not just because of its length; its wide emotional and musical range requires a daunting combination of vocal flexibility, physical stamina, solid acting ability, and a dynamic stage presence. From the moment she first appears on stage, we must believe that this is someone who could command an army as well as the passionate attachment of a Roman general.

Ms. Radvanovsky had everything the role required. Her "Casta Diva" brought down the house with wild applause and spontaneous shouts of "Brava!" She was imperious. She was conflicted. She raged, sighed, and swooned -- and all with a wonderfully seamless and powerful voice.

Sondra Radvanovsky and Company
Photo: Andrew Cioffi

She was backed up by an equally stunning cast headed by tenor Russell Thomas as the feckless Roman general Pollione and mezzo Elizabeth DeShong as the young priestess Adalgisa -- a part almost as demanding as that of Norma.

Riccardo Frizza made an impressive Lyric conducting debut and stage director Kevin Newbury brought the drama to vivid life. Under Michael Black's direction, the chorus was splendid, as always.

This Norma was as pleasing to the eye as it was to the ear, with David Korins's sets and Jessica Jahn's costumes evoking a kind of Game of Thrones version of Roman Empire-era Gaul.

Norma ended its run on Friday, February 24, but the Lyric Opera season continues until late May, with productions of Carmen, Eugene Onegin, and beginning in late April, My Fair Lady. All performances are at the Civic Opera House in the Chicago Loop.

Review: A moving "Eugene Onegin" at Lyric Opera of Chicago

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This review originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Mariusz Kwiecheń and Ana María Martínez
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

My wife Sherry once observed that the phrase “men behaving badly” could summarize the stories of most of opera’s core repertory.  Tchaikovsky's 1879 Eugene Onegin, a powerful production of which runs through March 20^th at Lyric Opera of Chicago, would certainly be a classic example. 

The self-absorbed protagonist, to quote Wikipedia’s pithy plot summary, “lives to regret his blasé rejection of a young woman's love and his careless incitement of a fatal duel with his best friend.”  He could easily become tiresome, but the fact that Pushkin was able to make this callow fellow the basis for a beloved verse novel is a tribute to his genius.   The fact that Tchaikovsky and his librettist Konstantin Shilovsky turned that novel into a moving work for the stage is a tribute to theirs.

Lyric Opera's production originated with the Met in New York back in 1997.  It has been revived often since then and even set down for posterity on DVD in 2007.  Paula Suozzi is credited with directing the current production, based on Robert Carsen's original, and the results are impressive, to say the least.  Blocking flows from and enhances the characters, pacing is always right, and the stage pictures created are visually striking. 

Alisa Kolosova, Ana María Martínez, and Charles Castronovo
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

Michael Levine's minimal set contributes a great deal to the compelling look of this show.  Using only furniture on a bare stage to indicate time and place, it forcefully underscores the emotional aridity of Onegin's world.  Covering the stage with brightly colored autumn leaves for the opening scenes in the countryside, meanwhile, emphasizes the contrast of that world with Onegin's.

Those wonderful visuals wouldn't be worth much without a great cast, of course, and Lyric certainly has that.  Polish baritone Mariusz Kwiecheń's Onegin is properly cool and even a bit arrogant at first as he rejects the amorous advances of the young and naïve Tatiana, which makes his emotional breakdown at the end of the opera that much more effective.  His potent voice rings with true authority.

Tenor Charles Castronovo is his friend Lensky, whom Onegin kills in a duel after an absurd argument caused by an innocent bit of flirtation on the part of Onegin and Lensky's love Olga.  His first act confession of love for Olga was heartfelt and beautifully sung, as was the famed second act monolog in which he contemplates his impending death in the duel.  Both were enthusiastically received by the audience at the premiere, with shouts of "bravo" after the latter.

Perhaps the best-known number in the entire opera in the Act I "letter" scene in which Tatiana recklessly declares her infatuation with Onegin.  Tchaikovsky is said to have very much identified with Tatiana’s hopelessly thwarted passion (being gay in a sexually repressive culture will do that to a person) and has given the character some of the most dramatic and compelling music in the opera.

Soprano Ana María Martínez is Lyric's Tatiana and while she clearly looks much older than the character's nineteen years in Act I, she acted the role with complete conviction.  When she dashed about the stage in giddy abandon after pouring out her heart in her letter to Onegin, she was so obviously the hormone-fueled adolescent that suspension of disbelief was automatic.  She also used all the colors of her wide-ranging voice to brilliantly illuminate this crucial scene.

Alisa Kolosova and Charles Castronovo
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

Russian mezzo Alisa Kolosova was equally credible as Tatnia's sister Olga, brimming with youthful optimism.  Her cool, fluid voice was a perfect fit for the part.

Eugene Onegin opens with a bit of wistful comedy as Tatiana’s mother Larina and the family nurse Filipyevna peel apples and reminisce about the former's days as a fashionable young girl, before marriage turned her into a member of the landed gentry in the country where "heaven sends us habit to take the place of happiness".  Mezzos Katharine Goeldner and Jill Grove, respectively, were impeccable in those roles, hitting just the right balance of humor and nostalgia.

There are a couple of plum cameo parts in the opera as well, the most notable being that of Prince Gremin, the middle-aged general whom Tatiana, following in her mother’s dutiful footsteps, eventually marries.  Russian bass Dmitry Belosselskiy captured all the character's emotional warmth and calm, ethical center as he tells Onegin of his love for Tatiana in a touching and lyrical aria.  At passionate length, he muses that she is a welcome change from the shallow, insincere, and morally questionable characters that he’s obliged to deal with on a regular basis – characters, in short, rather like Onegin.  It was a truly memorable performance, sung with great authority and real power even in the lowest notes.

The other great cameo is foppish Triquet, whose little French language serenade to Olga at her name-day party offers a brief respite from the raging hormone- and vodka-fueled battle that leads to the fatal duel between Lensky and Onegin.  Tenor Keith Jameson sang the role with just the right light lyricism and made the character just affected enough to be amusing without falling over into cheap comedy.

The chorus serves an important narrative function in Onegin, especially in the famous Act II waltz, so kudos to Chorus Mater Michael Black for getting such a clear and crisp sound from his thoroughly professional singers.  Down in the pit Alejo Pérez, making his American debut, conducted a warm and very convincing account of Tchaikovsky's score.

When Tchaikovsky wrote what he described as  “lyrical scenes” from the famous novel (he declined to label it an opera), it was with the understanding that his Russian audience would fill in all the narrative gaps and backstory between those scenes.  Now, the place and culture that produced Eugene Onegin may be forever beyond our grasp, but Lyric's excellent production bridges the gap and brings the powerful emotions home.

Performances of Lyric Opera of Chicago's Eugene Onegin continue through March 20^th at the Civic Opera House in the Chicago Loop. For more information: lyricopera.org.

Review: At Lyric Opera of Chicago, "Don Quichotte" sings a song of kindness

This review originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

L-R: Ferruccio Furlanetto and Nicola Alaimo
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

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Powerful, moving performances and a strong sense of whimsy highlight a beautiful production of Jules Massenet's last big hit, Don Quichotte, at Lyric Opera of Chicago.

When Jules Massenet wrote his operatic treatment of poet Jacques Le Lorrain's play Le chevalier de la longue figure (very freely adapted from Cervantes' Don Quixote) in 1909, both he and his style of composition were on the way out. Two years after the opera's highly successful 1910 premiere in Monte Carlo, Massenet would be dead of abdominal cancer and his poplar, romantic style would soon be eclipsed by revolutionaries like Stravinsky, impressionists like Debussy and Ravel, and serialists like Berg.

But fashionable or not, Don Quichotte has proved to be enduringly popular over the last century and is still produced often enough to come in at number 140 worldwide on the Operabase list for the 2014/15 season. The current Lyric production, which originated with San Diego Opera in 2009, does full justice to Massenet's colorful score and librettist Henri Cain's gentle, elegiac version of the tale of the Knight of the Woeful Countenance.

Clémentine Margaine and Ferruccio Furlanetto
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

The characters of the Don and Sancho are essentially unchanged from the originals in this treatment but aside from the famous battle with the windmills, the story is radically different. Instead of being a figment of the Don's imagination, Dulcinea (now Dulcinée) is a very real and very wealthy beauty who is pursued by many suitors and bored with them all. Amused by the Don's absurd attempts to woo her, Dulcinée send him on a quest of sorts to retrieve a pearl necklace stolen by Ténébrun, a local bandit.

Disarmed by the Don's nobility, Ténébrun gives him the necklace. But when the Don returns the necklace to Dulcinée and proposes to her, he's mocked by her party guests and gently rebuffed by her. Broken in spirit and health, he retreats to the mountains where, tended by the faithful Sancho, he has one last hallucination of Dulcinée's voice calling him to the heavens as he expires.

The role of Don Quichotte was first sung by the legendary Russian bass Feodor Chaliapin, and many of history's great bassos have taken it on since. When Lyric first presented Don Quichotte in 1974, for example, the role was sung by Nicolai Ghiaurov. This time around, the man behind the Don's spiky hair and beard is Ferruccio Furlanetto, who has made something of a career of the part, playing it to great acclaim all over the world.

Nicola Alaimo and Ferruccio Furlanetto
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

His is a gentle and even bemused Don Quichotte, confident in his folly and passionate in defense of his core values of honesty, compassion, and generosity. His complete immersion in the character and his powerful voice -- solid even in its lowest notes -- make his performance the solid foundation on which this fine production is built.

Baritone Nicola Alaimo is Sancho, a role which has more dramatic depth than you might expect. When his heartbroken master is mocked by Dulcinée's party guests, it's Sancho who rises to his defense in the passionate "Riez, allez, riez du pauvre ideologue" ("Laugh, laugh at this poor idealist"), excoriating the crowd for their heartlessness. While Mr. Alaimo is very affecting here and in the Don's death scene, he's equally adept at the comedy of the first and second acts.

Mezzo Clémentine Margaine rounds out the principal cast as a languid Dulcinée, as disappointed with her easy life as she is amused by it. Like Mr. Furlanetto and Mr. Alaimo, she has a voice that easily fills the Lyric's large house.

Tenors Alec Carlson and Jonathan Johnson are Dulcinée's adult suitors Juan and Rodriguez while soprano Diana Newman and mezzo Lindsay Metzger have the "pants" roles of her juvenile admirers Pedro and Garcias. These are primarily comic parts and they do a fine job with them. Bradley Smoak, who St. Louis audiences will recognize from his many appearances at Opera Theatre, turns in a nice cameo as Ténébrun.

L-R: Ferruccio Furlanetto and Bradley Smoak
Photo: Todd Rosenberg

The members of Michael Black's chorus sing and act their roles with great skill and Sir Andrew Davis conducts with his customary authority.

"Like children," observes director Matthew Ozawa in the program book, "when we open a book we are given permission to use our imagination to create a new world." And in fact, this Don Quichotte opens with a small boy alone on stage reading the Don's adventures in a huge book. As he turns the pages, the story comes to life around him in the bright storybook colors of Ralph Funicello's sets and Missy West's costumes. The literary concept is carried out as well in the quotes from Cervantes's novel that are projected on a scrim at the beginning of each act. Even when their stories are radically altered, it seems, Don Quixote and Sancho Panza stubbornly remain true to their essential selves.

As his dramatic arc passes from simple comedy to pathos and eventually tragedy, Don Quixote's dedication to kindness and mercy is a reminder that our natures do have better angels, if only we would pay them more heed. Like Pushkin's "holy fool" or Shakespeare's clowns, the Don's folly shows those around him the way to wisdom, if they have eyes to see and ears to hear.

Lyric Opera's production of Don Quichotte runs through December 7 at the opulent Civic Opera house in the Chicago Loop.