OPERA REVIEW : S.F. Revives Ponnelle’s ‘Carmen’

Ten years have passed since Jean-Pierre Ponnelle introduced his picturesque, quirky and sometimes willful production of “Carmen” at the War Memorial Opera House.

In the interim, four would-be-tempestuous heroines have come and gone (at least one of them--Victoria Vergara, class of ‘83--left happy memories). The administration of the San Francisco Opera has changed twice. Both the director and his costume designer, Werner Juerke, have died untimely deaths.

Undaunted, this “Carmen” keeps returning. The dramatic outlines may blur, and the musical values may shift, but the box-office appeal remains constant. Never underestimate the allure of a mock vamp who can strut her habanera stuff with rose in teeth and hands on hips.

The current revival, seen Sunday afternoon, isn’t bad. It just isn’t very interesting.

Ponnelle’s staging scheme has been faithfully re-created by Paula Williams. Perhaps too faithfully.

The quaintly grimy Sevillians still speak French but scribble graffiti in Spanish. Zuniga still busts down the door for an unintentionally comic entrance at Lillas Pastia’s. Later, he is murdered in cold blood by Don Jose even though such a deed is sanctioned neither by the music nor the text.

After the violent denouement, Jose still gives himself up to the police, crying that he is prepared for arrest. Unfortunately, the only other people on the stage are a pretty corpse and a stray urchin.

And so it goes. Williams does manage to introduce a few touches of her own: a bit of character motivation here, an altered focus there. She enjoys the narrative advantage of some additional dialogue (the Oeser edition is favored here), and sporadic stretches of musical restoration as well.

Essentially, however, this is--must be--a second-hand “Carmen,” a “Carmen” by the book and by the numbers. Bizet deserves something more vital. It is time for a new look.

If all had gone as planned, the central roles on Sunday would have been entrusted to Marilyn Horne and Neil Shicoff. Although this wouldn’t seem to represent ideal casting, the inherent star-power is obvious.

The names on the program at curtain time turned out to be less prestigious. Kathleen Kuhlmann replaced Horne, and Barry McCauley replaced Shicoff.

Kuhlmann is a pleasantly conscientious Carmen. That must be an oxymoron.

She applies her lightweight mezzo-soprano to the sinuous vocal line with poise and clarity, if without much point or individuality. She resembles a nice, robust sorority sister who enjoys kicking off her high heels at party time. Since there isn’t much magnetism here, we can forget about fatal attraction.

McCauley’s handsome, feverish Jose always teeters on the brink of hysteria. One has to admire his unbridled passion. One doesn’t have to admire its impact, however, on his medium-size tenor (a voice probably better suited to less heroic challenges such as Pierre in “War and Peace”).

On this occasion, McCauley’s essentially attractive tone turned hard and rough under pressure. His pitch went astray when he forced the high climaxes, and he dropped the B-flat at the end of the Flower Song like a hot poblano.

Still, all was not lost. As Micaela, Patricia Racette looked cliche-sweet and sang with generous lyrical grace. As Escamillo--a challenge that most baritones find too low, and most basses too high--Robert Hale sounded eminently incisive, even comfortable, and swaggered with reasonable macho authority.

Secondary roles were neatly delineated by James Wood as a glowering Zuniga, Mark Delavan as a blustery Morales, Maria Fortuna as a piercing Frasquita and Yanyu Guo as a mellifluous Mercedes. In the character parts of the chief smugglers, Hector Vasquez and John Swenson suggested that they would be happier playing Escamillo and Jose, their recent assignments with Western Opera Theater.

The articulation of the French text varied from adequate to atrocious.

Vjekoslav Sutej, a young Yugoslav conductor with important posts in Venice and Houston, uncovered no hidden secrets in the score. Nevertheless, he wielded firm control over the disparate forces at his command, sustained forward momentum wherever possible and tried--seldom with success--to make the dutiful sound urgent.