Opera Warhorses

The Dallas Opera presented Mozart’s “Cosi fan Tutte” as their second offering (after Verdi’s “Otello” last fall) in their new Margot and Bill Winspear Opera House. They assembled an excellent cast in the beautiful production conceived by John Cox and his collaborating set and costume designer Robert Perdziola.

The production, owned by the San Francisco Opera, was first presented by the opera company that co-sponsored, with S. F. Opera, the production’s creation - the Opera of Monte Carlo in Monaco.

The premise of the opera, of course, is a wager between an older gentleman and two young men about what betrothed women would do if aggressively courted by other men. Mozart and his librettist, Lorenzo da Ponte, advanced a pessimistic view of this aspect of human relationships, and that view’s dissonance with contemporary moral teachings assured that the opera would disappear from most opera houses throughout the 19th century, and from many houses during the first half of the 20th, as well. (For a discussion of the first year that “Cosi” was ever performed at the San Francisco Opera, see: Cosi Fan Tutte – October 25, 1956.)

In Mozart’s “Abduction from the Seraglio” the pairs of lovers are open to suspicion of their mates’ possible infidelity. In “Cosi” only the agreement among the wagering men that “women, indeed, are like that” and, therefore, that Don Alfonso has won his bet, prevents the situation from getting even further out of hand.

[Below: Guglielmo (Michael Todd Simpson, left) and Ferrando (Brian Anderson, right) make a wager with Don Alfonso (Sir Thomas Allen) on the fidelity of their fiancees; edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

Since the production’s premiere was in Monaco, it seems quite fitting for the production to incorporate the idea of high-end gambling by the upper classes. There was likely another consideration as well. Since the set designer, Robert Perdziola, is one of the most talented of costume designers working today, locating the story in a fashionable, exotic place, such as the Cote d’Azur as near to the Roaring 20s as possible, would unleash his imagination in designing classical haute couture for the women of Mozart’s comedy.

Whether or not Perdziola was influenced in any way by the 1990’s British TV drama about fashion design, “The House of Elliot”, the costumes he designed, and in this cast, that were worn by Liza van den Heever (Fiordiligi) and Jennifer Holloway (Dorabella), are as spectacular as the high fashion dresses that were associated with that series. (Fans of “Elliot” may agree that Holloway’s Dorabella looks strikingly like actress Stella Gonet’s Beatrice Elliot.)

Although Perdziola has constructed a unit set, the use of interior curtains permits scene changes from a small casino with roulette wheel to elegant rooms overlooking a seashore teeming with beach umbrellas that adjoins a boat harbor.

[Below: the sisters Dorabella (Jennifer Holloway, left) and Fiordiligi (Elza van den Heever) enjoy the Cote d'Azur; edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

It’s Mozart’s music and da Ponte’s (and Mozart’s) wit, that connects with us in “Cosi”. And it’s Perdziola’s sets and costumes and Cox’ always interesting staging that connects us with this production. British conductor Grahame Jenkins presided over the performance. The swirling overture was brilliantly played by the Dallas Opera orchestra (the Winspear acoustics enhancing the experience).

The first scene introduces us to Sir Thomas Allen’s Don Alfonso, whose solid vocal technique is matched by an impish humor. The two men whose faith in women Alfonso derides, were both effective in their roles. Michael Todd Simpson was an impressive Guglielmo, with a rich, dark lyric baritone. Brian Anderson reflected the practice of casting a leggiero tenor as Ferrando. Anderson, a former San Francisco Opera Center Adler Fellow, showed style and vocal versatility that compensated for a slightly lighter vocal weight than that possessed by his colleagues.

I have been blessed by having seen world class pairings of the siblings Fiordiligi and Dorabella over the years, but was particularly impressed by the combination of van den Heever and Holloway in these roles. Each is a formidable artist, with secure technique and full, creamy voices. Singing together (as Fiordiligi and Dorabella often do, usually an interval of a third apart) they were a striking pair.

Nor did Dallas Opera disappoint on the casting of Despina. Nuccia Focile is one of the world’s most impressive lyric sopranos, and she proved to be a sprightly, arrestingly likeable soubrette.

[Below: Nuccia Focile as Despina; edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

The settings, even if separated in time from us by nearly a century, are glorious and have the sweep of a technicolor movie – so realistic, in fact, that companions demanded that I ( who has defended the plots of such operas as Bellini’s “Norma” or Donizetti’s “Lucrezia Borgia” or Verdi’s “Il Trovatore” or Delibes’ “Lakme” as rather more plausible, if properly staged, than they initially appear) to similarly defend the plot of “Cosi”.

Classical comedies, whether spoken or sung, often require audiences to suspend belief for the gags to work. In “Cosi” we are asked to accept the idea that two soldiers engaged to sisters with whom they apparently constantly double date, could change into the uniform of a foreign country, put on fake facial hair, switch sisters, and, not only get away with it, but would demoralize each other with the proof that  ”their women are like that”.

[Below: Dorabella (Jennifer Holloway) begins to find Guglielmo (Michael Todd Simpson), disguised as an Albanian sailor, to be a person who interests her; edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

When originally conceived, Cox wanted to weave a subtle antiwar message into an opera that no one ever had associated with wartime. (See my review of a previous mounting: Warhorse Warriors: John Cox’ ‘Cosi Fan Tutte’ in S. F. – July 2, 2005, which includes an extensive discussion of Cox’ work in San Francisco and elsewhere.) In fact, when the men return as themselves in the final scene, they show battlefield injuries and are accompanied by other war veterans, and in the opera’s middle, the two women are enlisted as Red Cross nurses, as the casino resort makes room for the wounded. Such features simultaneously add both to the realism and the surreality of the production.

[Below, from left to right: Guglielmo (Michael Todd Simpson) and Ferrando (Brian Anderson), disguised as Albanian sailors, have conspired with Don Alfonso (Sir Thomas Allen) and Despina (Nuccia Focile) to make the sisters, Nurse Fiordiligi (Elza van den Heever) and Nurse Dorabella (Jennifer Holloway), believe the sailors have consumed arsenic; edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

Of course, “Cosi” is not a documentary about human experiences, nor is even a verismo opera (which composer Ferruccio Busoni pointed out is a nonsensical term, since people in real life do not communicate with each other exclusively through song.) Sometimes, confronted with the task of staging improbable behavior, some stage directors will require, or perhaps unleash, their singers to present their characters farcically – providing bizarre and incomprehensible sight gags they hope the audience will like.

John Cox clearly believes that, excepting some latitude for the character of the free spirited maid Despina (Nuccia Focile), none of the “Cosi” characters should be presented with even a hint of farce. In conversations I had with van den Heever, the only one of the six cast members in a role debut, she said that Cox insisted that, regardless of her natural tendency towards energetic movement when on the operatic stage, that  she stand perfectly still and, with great dignity, let the music flow through her character. (See Rising Stars: An Interview with Elza van den Heever.)

[Below: Dorabella (Jennifer Holloway, seated left) and Fiordiligi (Elza van den Heever, seated right) are beginning to like the idea of a little infidelity while their fiancees are away, to the encouragement of Despina (Nuccia Focile, standing left) and Don Alfonso (Sir Thomas Allen.]

“Cosi” is a succession of glorious Mozartean arias, duets and ensembles. The most famous solo pieces are those for Fiordiligi – the infamous Come Scoglio, from a technical standpoint one of the most taxing of all soprano arias and the serenely beautiful Per pieta, ben mio, which van den Heever points out has all of the technical requirements of Fiordiligi’s first aria, with even greater requirements for breath control and expressiveness. (For my reviews of van den Heever’s performances as Mozart’s Donna Anna, see: Kwiecien Excels in McVicar’s Dark Side “Don Giovanni” – S. F. June 2, 2007 and The Man Who Loved Women: Lucas Meachem’s Empathetic Don Giovanni – Santa Fe, July 31, 2009.)

But Dorabella, Despina, Ferrand0 and Guglielmo all  have two or more beautifully constructed arias each. Holloway’s Smanie implacabili (this being a Cox production, of course played straight) was as affecting as her E amor un ladroncello was light-hearted and amusing. Anderson’s Un aura amorosa was beautifully sung, as were his two later arias, and Simpson’s Guglielmo was impressive throughout the performance.

[Below: Guglielmo (Michael Todd Simpson) as the Albanian sailor dressed for his wedding, delights Ferrando's fiancee, Dorabella (Jennifer Holloway); edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

Don Alfonso, even without the kinds of arias the other five possess, provides the grounding and is the center of attention for most of the ten ensembles in which he participates. At this point in Sir Thomas Allen’s career, he brings a lifetime of experience, unfailing musicianship, and a brilliant comic technique, to the mature comic roles in the operatic repertory. (See my review of a recent performance at: Woody Allen’s L. A. “Gianni Schicchi”: Spoofing Italian Films – September 6, 2008.)

Mozart, da Ponte, Cox, Perdziola, Graeme Jenkins, the production’s excellent cast, and the Winspear acoustics made this a memorable “Cosi fan Tutte”.

There is a tendency to think of the operas written by Verdi as a genre that differs from those of the early 19th century Italian operas of the “bel canto era“. During that period, according to opera lore, the singing was florid, pretty, but dramatically vapid. In the opera goers’ understanding of the history of opera, three composers share the bel canto stage – Gioacchino Rossini, Vincenzo Bellini and Gaetano Donizetti.

In this view of the art form’s history, both music and plots of bel canto operas are formulaic, the latter not particularly comprehensible, with the music organized to maximize the exposition of the singer’s technique. To reform opera, Verdi struggled against these old ways of composing and created a new style that lasted for decades until Puccini and the verismo composers developed even newer styles for singing and presenting the drama.

There is a reason why many  people who like opera tend to believe the statements in the above paragraphs as fact. It’s the view that prevailed in the early 20th century as to how the standard repertory came to be. Because most operas of the the three bel canto composers had disappeared from the repertory – save Rossini’s “Barber of Seville” (which never was in danger of disappearing) and star turn performances of Donizetti’s “Lucia di Lammermoor” and rarely Bellini’s “Norma” and Donizetti’s “L’Elisir d’Amore” –  much of the rest of the output of these three composers, with only the most sporadic exceptions, was never performed. Similarly, the operas of Verdi composed before his “Rigoletto” were considered antique curiosities.

Current scholarship, and the experience from multiple productions in recent decades of many major bel canto and early Verdi works,  has revised the understanding of  Italian operas from the first half of the 19th century. These revisionist ideas are reflected on this website.  It’s appropriate now to have a different impression of early 19th century opera, and of the transitional times between “eras”.

We can now see Rossini as a revolutionary innovator, whose changes in the art form quickly became formulas that other composers were expected to observe. We can also appreciate that Bellini and Donizetti, two men who tragically died early in their careers, each struggled to improve the dramatic content and flow of operas, and, especially in the latter’s case, to a considerable extent achieved that goal. And one can now see the great influence that Donizetti’s achievements had on Verdi. It’s hard to imagine the creation of what we think of as Verdian opera if the operas of, say, the last 15 years of Donizetti’s prodigious output never existed.

What is not appreciated, even by some of the people who produce operas, is the extent that Donizetti and Verdi were friends and collaborators. It was instructive for this reviewer to see Donizetti’s “Don Pasquale” on a Friday night at the Dallas Opera (See my review at Spirited, Beautifully Sung “Don Pasquale” at Dallas Opera – February 19, 2010) and Verdi’s “Nabucco” the next night at the San Diego opera.

[Below: the Assyrian court in Michael Yeargan's sets for "Nabucco"; edited image, based on a Cory Weaver photograph, courtesy of the San Diego Opera.]

The two operas are written in different styles, of course. No part of “Nabucco” is intended to be funny. Most of “Don Pasquale”, excepting perhaps the scene in which Pasquale expresses his despair at his humiliation, is meant to be serious. But both “Nabucco” and “Don Pasquale” were Donizetti artistic products that occupied his time during the years 1842 and 1843. He himself wrote “Pasquale”. But he also took on the task of assisting Verdi in the diffusion of “Nabucco” to Austria after its successful premiere in Milan.

Donizetti was 16 years older than Verdi. The two men had both lost their wives to tragic illnesses. Donizetti seemed at the height of his artistic powers, although he soon would begin to suffer the debilitation of the third stage syphilis that infected him.

Verdi had experienced a fiasco in his second opera, “Un Giorno di Regno”, a comic opera, that he had to complete and stage during a time of grief. He was finally coaxed into writing “Nabucco”. Donizetti, who now is recognized as a great composer in both the comic and tragic genres, obviously liked Verdi’s new opera, and agreed to take on the musical preparation and to conduct it for its Vienna premiere.

Donizetti’s encouragement (and perhaps his demonstration that the elder master could still write comic operas of the quality of “Don Pasquale” – considerably superior to Verdi’s “Giorno di Regno”) –  set Verdi on his path of concentrating on improving the dramatic content and style of Italian opera, and not returning to comic opera for nearly half a century. In “Nabucco”  one grasps the genius of the future Verdi, in the extraordinary writing of Nabucco’s  part and Zaccaria’s Preghiera, while seeing the incorporation of elements influenced by Donizetti’s mature style.

The San Diego Opera Cast

San Diego Opera assembled an important cast to mount the work. (Oddly, two of the three principals – Fink and Aceto – were not the artists originally expected to appear, but it is inconceivable that the results could have been any better than that of the team that San Diego Opera’s General Director Ian Campbell had in place for the production’s opening night.)

Richard Paul Fink  has become one of the world’s most impressive Alberichs for the three operas in Wagner’s “The Ring of the Nibelungs” in which the character appears. In Nabucco’s title role, he demonstrated that he is also a great Verdi baritone, in an impeccably sung, and aggressively acted. performance. One of the attractions of the role is its opportunity to demonstrate one’s histrionic talents, with scenes in which the Assyrian monarch is alternatively mentally deranged and lucid.

“Mad scenes” are an extraordinary opportunity for a brilliant singer who is also a good actor to astonish and connect with an audience. Although there are several such opportunities for bel canto sopranos, they are almost non-existent for Verdian baritones, who generally play the solid, even stolid, fathers, brothers, and counselors whose emotions (other than cries for vengeance) are not so vividly displayed.

[Below: Nabucco (Richard Paul Fink) in a state of mental distress; edited image, based on a Cory Weaver photograph, courtesy of the San Diego Opera.]

San Diego Opera used Michael Yeargan’s “Nabucco” sets from the Lyric Opera in Chicago. It is a unit set which serves as both the Hebrew Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem and as the throne room, hanging gardens and royal apartments that the Assyrians occupy in Babylon. To help  clarify the demarcation between what is Hebrew space and Assyrian, the San Diego Opera added a series of projections that were developed by the San Diego Opera Scenic Studios. (I personally would have encouraged them to project the bright blue Babylonian walls that one sees in the Pergamon Museum in Berlin, but do believe the projections were mostly effective.)

The plot is a bit less complex than it at first seems. The Israeli ambassador to the Assyrians, the tenor Ismaele (nicely sung by Arthur Shen) has caught the eye of two women raised as sisters and as the daughters of King Nabucco. The king has decided to invade Jerusalem and found a pretext to imprison Ismaele, but the younger daughter, Fenena, has helped him escape back to Jerusalem. Ismaele and Fenena have fallen in love and she wishes to convert to Juadaism.

The older daughter, Abigaille, has suffered two blows – rejection by her would-be lover Ismaele, and being passed over as regent in favor of her younger sister, Fenena, while her father, Nabucco, is on his campaign to subject the Jews to his suzerainty. Nabucco, Fenena, and Abigaille, all with quite different motivations, travel from Babylon to Jerusalem.

[Below: the Assyrian king Nabucco (Richard Paul Fink, right back) has defiled and looted the Jewish Temple,to the dismay of his daughter Fenena (Susana Poretsky, left) who loves the Jewish ambassador Ismaele (Arthur  Shen, foreground); edited image, based on a Cory Weaver photograph, courtesy of the San Diego Opera.]

Abigaille, investigating why she was passed over for the regency, discovers that she is illegitimate, the daughter of a slave. At once, she takes part in intrigues with Assyrian priests of the god Baal, to remove Nabucco from power and install herself as monarch.

The role of Abigaille is one of the most treacherous in Italian opera, with extraordinary cadenzas that descend into the chest voice and then leap into the top of the soprano range . French soprano Sylvie Valayre is one of the few sopranos in history to make Abigaille a signature role.

Valayre has become a specialist in this role as well as that of Lady Macbeth (see my review of her Lady at  Power Verdi: Stoyanov, Valayre Mesmerizing in Berlin Staatsoper “Macbeth” – April 24, 2009.)

[Below: Abigaille (Sylvie Valayre), discovering that she is the illegitimate daughter of a slave, determines to lead a coup to seize the Assyrian throne; edited image, based on a Cory Weaver photograph, courtesy of the San Diego Opera.]

She portrayed the character’s vulnerability, particularly in the beautiful aria Anch’io dischiuso un giorno, humanizing this rather unsympathetic character in a way one rarely sees. What Valayre shows us is that, with all its pyrotechnics, the music of Abigaille is fundamentally beautiful and the role can be made really interesting in the right hands. Those in the San Diego Opera audience heard an incredible performance of a role that takes survival skills to perform.

[Below: the regent Abigaille (Sylvie Valayre) refuses to permit Nabucco (Richard Paul Fink) to recover his throne; edited image, based on a Cory Weaver photograph, courtesy of the San Diego Opera.]

The third principal was Raymond Aceto, a favorite basso cantante of this website. Originally, the great basso Ferruccio Furlanetto had agreed to do the part of Zaccaria, but, having recently tried out the role (having not performed it for many years), asked the San Diego Opera to release him from a commitment that he felt was no longer right for his voice. He recommended Aceto to the San Diego Opera, who agreed to sign him for the role. (When I mentioned Furlanetto’s recommendation to Aceto, he was surprised and appeared deeply affected to learn that a distinguished colleague had been behind San Diego Opera requesting him to be their Zaccaria.)

Aceto had sung the part of the High Priest of Baal when this production was mounted in Chicago, but his voice is clearly able to handle Zaccaria’s three quite different major arias, each of which is a masterpiece in its own right. Two of the arias are in the bel canto style. The third, the Preghiera, heralds Verdi’s new directions for the basso voice, exemplified in such roles as Banquo in “Macbeth”, Fiesco in “Simon Boccanegra” and similar roles of his more mature style.

A significant feature of most bel canto and of Verdi’s operas through “Il Trovatore” is the double aria, particularly those that follow the cavatina-cabaletta convention. In the cabalettas there are two verses (each with the same words), the first followed by a transitional stretta and then the  second verse. In the middle of the 19th century, with Verdi’s support for the convention’s elimination, they began to be considered unfashionable.

This website has supported the restoration of the strettas and second cabaletta verses, especially when there are artists that have the stamina and technical skill to sing the second cabaletta verse in the way they were intended to be sung. Conductor Edoardo Mueller indeed restored the strettas and permitted both Aceto and Valayre to sing both verses of their major cabalettas. Both artists, of course, added additional vocal ornamentation to the second cabaletta verse as the tradition dictates.

The high quality of singing of the three principals, and of Shen as Ismaele, were complemented by fine performances by Susana Poretsky as Fenena, Alfred Walker as the High Priest of Baal, Joseph Hu as Abdallo and Priti Gandhi as Zaccaria’s sister Anna. Additionally, the chorus master, Timothy Todd Simmons, and Lighting Designer Michael Whitfield both deserve special recognition.

[Below: the Jewish high priest Zaccaria (Raymond Aceto) comforts the convert Fenena (Susana Poretsky) as the High Priest of Baal (Alfred Walker ) looks on; edited image, based on a Cory Weaver photograph, courtesy of the San Diego Opera.]

The stage director for the San Diego performances is Lotfi Mansouri,  recently honored as one of the early recipients of the National Endowment of the Arts Honors in Opera. Mansouri staging observes the traditions of bel canto opera, in which there are key moments when the composer expects both audience and singer to concentrate on what is being sung, and how it is being sung,  rather than on what the singers are doing.

A supreme example in “Nabucco” is the concert piece, S’appresan gl’istanti, in which Nabucco, who had been reported as dead, suddenly appears, and, in the form of a round or canon, Abigaille, then Ismaele, then Fenena, and then Zaccaria and the chorus join in the melody, each character expressing her or his astonishment. A stage director who tries to have these characters doing anything other than standing in place silently until their part requires them to sing, misses the point of the bel canto set piece, where the music, rather than the stage movements, provides the drama. Sometimes opera singers are expected to stand and sing.

“Nabucco” is an opera in which the chorus plays an active part, and Mansouri was effective in incorporating the chorus into the drama. The most famous moment in “Nabucco”, the chorus of the captive Jews, was memorably staged and superbly sung by the San Diego Opera Chorus.

[Below: the condemned Jews, on the Banks of the Euphrates River, sing their prayer of salvation; edited image, based on a Cory Weaver photograph, courtesy of the San Diego Opera.]

However, with much to praise in every part of the production,  the stunning performance of Fink was its most remarkable feature. When he came forward at opera’s end for his curtain call, he received a spontaneous standing ovation from the large and vociferous San Diego Opera crowd.

[Below: Nabucco (Richard Paul Fink) engages the attention of Abdallo (Joseph Hu); edited image, based on a Cory Weaver photograph, courtesy of the San Diego Opera. ]

As Verdi’s bicentennial year approaches in 2013, the performances of Fink, Valayre and Aceto suggest that great performances of “Nabucco” will continue to occur.

The Dallas Opera mounted Donizetti’s comedy “Don Pasquale” in the venerable Jean-Pierre Ponnelle production, originally created for the Royal Opera House Covent Garden. The performance provided a vehicle for the American debut of Slovakian soprano Adriana Kucerova and the Dallas debut of Italian Conductor Stefano Ranzani.

Written for four world-class voices, the Dallas Opera chose a cast that deftly handled Donizetti’s melodious score.  Donato DiStefano, internationally renowned for the basso buffo roles in Rossini and Donizetti operas, is Pasquale. Like DiStefano a master of the tongue-twisting “patter song”, Nathan Gunn is Doctor Malatesta, a role that showcases his comedic skills. Cast as Ernesto, the intended of Kucerova’s Norina, is Norman Shankle.

Ranzani led the Dallas Opera Orchestra in a skillful performance of the overture, testing the superb acoustics of the recently opened Margot and Bill Winspear Opera House.

The Ponnelle sets are based on a “stage within a stage” concept. A proscenium arches over doorways at stage left and right, each with a latticed window above it. Within the area that frames the doorways and proscenium is a large red stage curtain, that opens to reveal three sets:  the interior of Don Pasquale’s house, a rooftop terrace that adjoins Norina’s home, and Pasquale’s garden.

Candace Evans, the stage director, obviously has absorbed the spirit of the piece, as it is defined by Donizetti’s music and Ponnelle’s sets and costumes (with additional set features and costumes created by the Dallas Opera’s technical departments).

Representing Don Pasquale’s house (or at least its imposing entrance hall), we see an upper floor and two descending staircases to the main floor. Marble busts decorate the walls of the upper staircase. An easel holds Ernesto’s latest oil painting. In this permutation, the set represents a drably dignified interior space, reflecting both Pasquale’s taste and lack of appetite for major renovations or other big ticket expenditures. (That is the “before”; Norina will see to the “after” in the next act.)

Adversarial exchanges take place between Pasquale and his artist nephew, Ernesto (impressively sung by Norman Shankle). The latter refuses to marry the woman of property whom the Don believes to be a better choice than Ernesto’s chosen Norina, so Pasquale announces his intention for himself to remarry and thus to disinherit his nephew. But Malatesta already has developed a strategy to intervene in this generational impasse. Without informing Ernesto, Malatesta offers Pasquale his sister Sophronia (whom Pasquale knows to be a student at a convent) to become his new bride, then proceeds to convince Norina to masquerade as that sibling.

The second scene, taking place on Norina’s terrace, was the first opportunity for American audiences to hear Kucerova, who has had great success in the comic coloratura and light lyric soprano roles in Europe. She proved the indomitable wily vixen in Quel guardo, il cavalier, heralding an important new singing actress in the bel canto repertory.

Kucerova’s Norina quickly enters into the conspiracy with Gunn’s Malatesta. In this production John Sauvey plays Malatesta’s cousin, who will be the fake Notary that produces the fake documents that convinces Pasquale he has actually married Sophronia. The would-be Notary has accompanied Malatesta to Norina’s home, as a mute character in this scene.

[Below: Norina (Adriana Kucerova) agrees to a scheme devised by Doctor Malatesta (Nathan Gunn); edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

(Were anything like this to transpire in my home state of California in the present day, Norina, Malatesta and his cousin all would become entangled in the State’s conspiracy to defraud and elder abuse laws, but, of course, Malatesta explains that all of this is merely to show Pasquale what can happen when a wealthy, elderly man takes on a young gold-digging wife, rather than engaging in proper estate planning with his legal heir).

Norina is a quintessential soubrette role, and is a stock character of the comic stage, whether that character’s lines are spoken or sung. But imbued with the sophisticated vocal line of the mature Donizetti, the role glistens in the hand of a singing actress with the charm, comic timing and physical attractiveness that Kucerova personifies.

Similarly, Pasquale is a prototypical basso buffo role, but one with a streak of likeability and charm, beneath that impulsive decision to teach his disobedient nephew a lesson. It is a plum role for the veteran basso with comedic skills, able to sing the rapid Italian chatter expected of a buffo. To this role, DiStefano brings a rich, deep voice, and his masterful bel canto phrasing.

[Below: Don Pasquale (Donato DiStefano, left) is charmed by the seemingly demure, obedient and frugal Sophronia (Adriana Kucerova), introduced to him as the sister of Doctor Malatesta (Nathan Gunn); edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

The core of the plot revolves around Sophronia/Norina’s change from penurious sweet young thing to spendthrift termagant the instant that both she and Pasquale sign the marriage contract. The drab household is instantly placed into the hands of decorators with instructions that no expense be spared. In addition, Pasquale’s existing staff of three servants is augmented by dozens of additional employees, including coachmen with teams of horses. This production’s Sophronia becomes an art patron as well, and Ernesto’s paintings become a prominent decorative touch.

[Below: a large staff is now required for Don Pasquale's home to complement Sophronia's expensive decorative enhancements; edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

However, the most destructive element to Pasquale’s ego is Sophronia’s rejection of Don Pasquale as the head of household or even as a person, including her professed intention to have Pasquale’s nephew Ernesto, rather than Pasquale, accompany her on the nightly party  and theater circuit. When he tries to put his foot down, she slaps him. No place in comic opera does a buffo character engender such audience sympathy than the crestfallen, emotionally defeated Pasquale does at this point.

[Below: Norina as Sophronia (Adriana Kucerova) announces her determination to do whatever she pleases, regardless of the emotional impact on Don Pasquale (Donato DiStefano); edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

But for all to be set right, there is one more seeming outrage meted out to the Don’s persona. Sophronia deliberately drops a note that seems to implicate her in an affair with another man in Pasquale’s garden that evening. This sets up one of the most famous and most hilarious buffo duets in all of opera – Cheti, cheti, immantimente between Pasquale and Malatesta (staged in this production before the red curtain).  DiStefano and Gunn received the evening’s greatest applause for this tour de force. Audience approval of the raucous duet invariably occurs in “Don Pasquale” performances, but there was special justification for this superb pair’s dueling patter.

If the opera were to end there, it would have been a evening filled with invariably melodious music, including two beautiful arias for Ernesto, the second of which is preceded by a hauntingly beautiful trumpet solo. But the opera moves into a third act, with Ernesto’s third aria, the enchanting serenade Com’e gentil, with its barcarole rhythms.

The part of Ernesto spends more time in the upper third of a tenor’s range than any other Italian opera in the standard repertory. Shankle, a former San Francisco Opera Adler Fellow, was impressive in his handling of the aria’s treacherous tessitura. (Curiously, the Dallas Opera audience seemed not to know where the aria ended, so the traditional break for applause was not observed, and Shankle’s Ernesto and Kucerova’s Norina went immediately into the divine duet Tornami dir che m’ami.)

Prior to the opera’s happy denouement, there is the set-up for a situation that could have ended much differently if the opera, rather than being a romantic comedy, were a verismo tragedy like Leoncavallo’s “I Pagliacci” a half-century later. Two men, one of whom is married, come upon that husband’s wife with a lover, and the lover escapes.

But in this opera all’s well that ends well. Pasquale follows Malatesta’s plan to disentangle himself from his horrid nuptial mistake. He becomes reconciled with his nephew Ernesto’s marriage to Norina (whom he thinks he has not yet met), and even promises the happy couple a generous income and a bountiful future inheritance. And, even when the fraud has been admitted, he has been so frightened at the unintended consequences of his previous marital decision, that he concedes that sometimes fraud is justifiable.

[Below: Ernesto (Norman Shankle) marries his beloved Norina (Adriana Kucerova); edited image, based on a Karen Almond photograph, courtesy of the Dallas Opera.]

This is a wonderful opera for both the veteran aficionado, who will delight in the performances of DiStefano, Kucerova, Gunn and Shankle, and the newcomer to opera, seeking sprightly, melodious music encased in a story that is fun to watch. The Dallas Opera has produced a great “Don Pasquale”.

For a review of a less successful performance of this opera, see: No Norina: A “Don Pasquale” Showstopper in Zurich – September 23, 2007