Carmen
Portland
Opera at Keller Auditorium,
1500 SW 3rd Ave., 796-9293. 7:30 pm
Wednesday, Friday and Saturday, Sept. 27, 29 and 30.
$25-$155.
Carmen was
anything but a success at its premiere in 1875.
Portland Opera's new production of Carmen makes
a statement before the curtain. As conductor Arthur Fagen
directs the overture, a figure is illuminated behind the
drop, dealing cards. It's a subtle gesture, but in it director
James McNamara states his theme: Fate deals an irreversible
hand. It's one way to look at Bizet's masterpiece Carmen,
but unfortunately, the work never supports his choice.
An ominous cross is the centerpiece of Act I, casting a
foreboding shadow that reminds us that this is superstitious
Spain. To bring McNamara's theme home further, Carmen, as
a prisoner, is bound to the cross by the duty-bound Don
Jose. It's a symbol that appears again in Act III, though
the tide has changed for Carmen. As she lays down cards,
she perches on a tomblike altar with the cross emblazoned
beneath her. However, this motif of destiny doesn't jibe
with the opera. Of course, Carmen interpretations are abundant.
There's the sociological Carmen, a product of gypsy rootlessness,
or the many psychological Carmens with calloused exteriors
hiding vulnerability. Then there's the resilient pragmatist
who picks and chooses her cards on her own terms.
It's this last persona that Victoria Livengood inhabits
fully. The mezzo-soprano is a vivacious, full-blooded Carmen
from her first moment onstage--a quintessential gypsy tease
and an independent woman who shapes her world. Livengood
has made a career out of this role, and one feels honored
to witness her creation. Her voice is vibrant and seductive,
never pretty or refined, and she relishes her arias and
ensemble numbers with joie de vivre. Her "Habanera"
knowingly intimates that passionate love is a flash-and-burn
enterprise. Yet there's no weakness here, and so this implicit
strength militates against McNamara's interpretation.
Michael Hayes, excellent in last year's daring Werther,
returns as Don Jose. Hayes plays Don Jose like a Werther
who is older but definitely not wiser in love. When we first
see him we know he's no match for Carmen, and we grow to
resent him for not recognizing the impetuousness of the
affair. He's humorless, stiff and overly formal, with his
nose in a book at every opportunity; the only mystery here
is why Carmen toys with him. Initially, Hayes' voice lacks
the richness of his Werther, but in his "Flower Song" he
proves his talent.
Maryse Castets' Micaela, however, is a one-dimensional
butterfly flittering about without the vulnerable appeal
to make her sympathetic. Her voice can be strong, but she
tends to fade off and throw her voice to the pit.
Fagen's conducting is one of the more inspired of recent
memory. The orchestra slashes at Bizet's spiky rhythms and
romps through the glorious melodies in dancelike fashion.
At the close of the Don Jose-Micaela love duet, McNamara
has a contented family sit in the rear of the stage then
casually leave as the duet closes as if to say, that's the
only marital bliss you'll be seeing. We never see such potential
again and, finally, lose a richer sense of tragedy.
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