MUSIC AND DANCE REVIEWS : LUCINE AMARA IN ‘TURANDOT’

Yes, Virginia, there still is a Lucine Amara--late of the Metropolitan Opera and fervent defender of the rights of people of advanced age to sing opera. In a decidedly small-scale “Turandot,” staged by the Riverside Opera Assn., Amara, 59, proved there is plenty of operatic life left in her yet.

The performance Saturday night at the Riverside Municipal Auditorium was an uneven affair, but Amara’s icy princess was consistently powerful and accurate. Since the role doesn’t require much dramatically--and since stage director Jonathon Field’s traffic-directing didn’t move the soprano around much--Amara could concentrate on singing, which she did to good effect.

Still, Puccini’s elaborate Chinoiserie overwhelmed the limited resources of the Riverside company. The choral writing in “Turandot” is fiendishly complex--though the 31-voice Pacific Chorale followed the composer’s demands with panache--the orchestral demands are extreme and the work’s scale is imperial--much too lavish for a struggling, if intelligent, regional opera company and its too-small auditorium.

Much was made dramatically of little, however, thanks to some imaginative uses of scrims and backlighting. But Field let his principals down too often. When, for example, one registers with nary a blink Liu’s suicide for Calaf’s sake, something is rotten in the state of old Cathay.

Lawrence Bakst’s Calaf was sturdy and serviceable; he delivered a stirring “Nessun Dorma” but seemed uninspired elsewhere. As Liu, Joan Zajac couldn’t muster a pianissimo for her “Signore, ascolta,” but her lyrical sense was admirable and sure. Rush Tully was a moving Timur, and the Ping-Pang-Pong triple threat--sung by Philip Siegling, Jeffrey Gerstein and Mat Scully, respectively--added a spark whenever it appeared.

James Sullivan’s conducting was again assured and lively, and--again--the smallish orchestra rose to its considerable challenges with distinction.