COMMENTARY : The Supertenor Calls the Shots in Los Angeles : By allowing Placido Domingo to switch operas in midseason, the Music Center suggests that the artist is more important than the art

Opera is an irrational art. Critics--and audiences--have known that since the golden days of Henry Fothergill Chorley.

Tenors, the high-voiced divos who always want to make the communal heart beat fonder, have long known how to manipulate the strange facts of operatic life. Sometimes they have abused that knowledge.

A bizarre demonstration of quintessential tenoral logic was recently manifested by our Music Center Opera. That, you will recall, is the enterprising young company managed by an enlightened impresario--Peter Hemmings--with conspicuous assistance from a very gifted, very popular and very busy tenor--Placido Domingo.

Call him super tenor.

Domingo, whose international box-office magnetism ranks second only to Luciano Pavarotti’s, serves Los Angeles opera officially as artistic consultant (his rather vague but eminently useful title has varied over the years). He sings at least one work here each season.

Domingo also conducts operas here on a regular basis. He sings far better than he conducts, but that is one of the prices we pay for his involvement. Someday, he says, when the gold in his throat has begun to tarnish, he wants to devote all his energies to running a company just like ours.

In the meantime, he is simply running. Unfortunately, he doesn’t always run efficiently.

On April 20, he was to have favored us with his first performance of a Russian opera, Tchaikovsky’s “Pikovaya Dama,” a.k.a. “Queen of Spades.” The lavish new production of this relatively seldom-heard masterpiece was to be staged by Andrei Konchalovsky and shared with La Scala in Milan. Yuri Simonov of the Bolshoi Opera in Moscow was to conduct. The prospects were exciting.

Note the past tense.

On Jan. 26, the Music Center announced that Domingo, in Europe, was suffering from influenza. This misfortune, we were told, had “ruined the period he had set aside to prepare the new role, his first major role in the Russian language. Thus Mr. Domingo has been forced to postpone his assumption of the role.”

Forced? It seemed odd that this notorious over-achiever knew so early that he would be unable to learn the opera. More than 12 weeks remained before the opening. Still, discretion always is the safer part of operatic valor.

Given this much time, the Music Center still, no doubt, could find a suitable replacement. Given the advantages of perestroika , a rescuing tenor might even come from the Soviet Union. “Pikovaya Dama” is as common there as “La Boheme” is common here.

Anyone for Vladimir Atlantov? Or even for the lesser Vladimir--Popov--who is scheduled to share the role with Domingo later at La Scala?

No. That’s not the way we operate in Los Angeles.

Here, the tenor is more important than the opera. Forget about Tchaikovsky. Forget about advertised promises.

Scrub “Pikovaya Dama.” Substitute Verdi’s “Don Carlo.” That’s an opera that Domingo already knows.

The change can make little economic sense. An expensive production and a virtually new cast must be assembled at short notice. The previously contracted team must be disbanded.

The decision to borrow this “Don Carlo” from the Chicago Lyric Opera makes dubious aesthetic sense. The version in question--the time-dishonored, four-act compression in which the original French text is translated into Italian--distorts Verdi’s intentions.

The decision may also make questionable stylistic sense. The cast will be dominated by Slavic singers, at least two of whom are unknown quantities. Ironically, the company is importing singers from the Soviet Union--but for Verdi, not for Tchaikovsky.

One has to wonder if the Music Center Opera would have been so accommodating if Domingo were just a passing stellar attraction, and not part of the official management team. It may be worth recalling that some American bosses are less lenient with recalcitrant heroes. Ardis Krainik of the Chicago Lyric Opera recently had the fortitude to drop none less than Pavarotti when he failed to meet his commitments.

This is not the first time that Domingo has had second thoughts about his own anti-type casting here. He had been envisioned for Tristan in the controversial David Hockney production of Wagner’s music drama. William Johns eventually took that strenuous part. Domingo had intended to sing Florestan in the forthcoming “Fidelio.” Gary Bachlund is now set for Beethoven’s ode to freedom.

One cannot blame our glamorous singing adviser for shirking responsibilities that may have been ill-advised in the first place. Still, one must wonder if he thinks before he plans.

And, in this instance, one might question the priorities, not to mention the integrity, of the Music Center Opera. For some of the public, “Pikovaya Dama” and “Don Carlo” are simply not interchangeable. We are getting only six operas this year. Cheerfully refunded tickets offer little solace.

True to history, Los Angeles has once again catered to a star ego. In the process, our opera company has made a decision that can please only the Domingo worshipers.

The message is as clear as it is unsettling: The artist, not the art, is the thing.