Both Sides of ‘Carmen’ : Opera: Rosalind Elias has moved from singing to directing the Bizet work, which, to her mind, has no room for roller skates.

It may be trendy in some circles, but Rosalind Elias, opera singer-turned-director, is not about to update Bizet’s “Carmen.”

“I’m not so bored yet with directing that I want to put Carmen on roller skates, or put Micaela in toe shoes, which has been done before. I won’t do anything for shock value, and if they say I’m just a traditionalist, I say fine. I leave it to somebody else to have some singer masturbate while singing an aria.”

But, if Elias, who is directing the San Diego Opera production of “Carmen” that opens Saturday at Civic Theatre, spurns radical revisionism, it does not follow that her approach is conventional. Instead of seeing Carmen as the customary amoral 19th-Century Gypsy seductress, her Carmen is more of a free spirit in tune with her own nature.

“As I see her, Carmen was naturally sensual and sensuous from when she was a child. She became a free-spirited earth mother and earth lover. When she loves, she loves, and when she’s tired of someone, she’s tired. She’s not what I don’t like in some women--they say one thing and do another. She’s truthful. She doesn’t need to go after a man. She has the animal in her that attracts men to her. But Carmen doesn’t do it maliciously; when she finds a man attractive, she wants to go to bed with him. I suppose in that respect, she was a woman before her time.”

Having sung the role many times, Elias is nevertheless wary about forcing her musical ideas on the singers she directs.

“Every Carmen is different. I never push an idea or tell a singer that it has to be a certain way--it might look terrible on them. ‘Why don’t you try this out,’ I say. Or, ‘That looks terrific; that doesn’t.’ I don’t want an assembly-line Carmen.”

Elias’ vocal career bloomed early. She made her Metropolitan Opera debut in 1954, and four years later the mezzo from Lowell, Mass., created the role of Erika in Samuel Barber’s first grand opera,

“Vanessa.” She also sang the first Charmain in “Antony and Cleopatra,” the Barber opera that opened the Met’s new Lincoln Center home in 1966.

Although she started directing opera in 1983, she continues to balance her schedule with directing and singing. But, at age 63, she has traded the Carmens, Dorabellas and Rosinas of her earlier career for the witch in “Hansel and Gretel” and Herodias in “Salome.” She does not rue the transformation.

“Even as a young singer doing Dorabella and Cherubino, there was always a woman in me that wanted to be the protagonist, to be the Joan Collins of opera. But I was too young. Now I do these roles, and I cherish them. I think they are the best roles ever written, even if they are only three pages long.”

Turning to directing or conducting may be an expedient career move for singers of a certain age, but Elias always had her eye on directing.

“I love dealing with the whole package, putting something all together. I was always interested in directing. When I was singing, I would hang around and watch the director, even after my scene was finished. I always liked to poke around backstage and see how everything worked. And you know, you just cannot wake up one morning and say, ‘OK, today I stop singing and tomorrow I’m going to start directing.’ I wanted to prepare myself.”

She has directed “Carmen,” “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” and “Cosi Fan Tutte” for Cincinnati Opera; “La Boheme” for Baltimore Opera and “Don Pasquale” for Portland. Earlier this season, she directed “Barbiere” for Milwaukee’s Florentine Opera, and later this season she will stage a new production of “Regina” for New York City Opera. In her brief directing career, she has done eight productions of “Carmen.”

Her experience as a singer taught Elias not to rely on the director or underestimate her own contribution to the enterprise of producing an opera, although now that she has worked in opera on both sides of the footlights, she admits she has a greater appreciation for the director’s role.

“As a singer, I always analyzed my roles very well. All my career, I’ve delved into my character and have done the necessary research. You’re going to take a little bit from everybody, but you have to use your own brains. When Teresa (Stratas) and I were doing ‘Hansel and Gretel’ together, we would go home and work on it ourselves. We’d work all night long, and then bring it in. And the director would say, ‘Terrific.’ Isn’t that what it’s supposed to be--the meeting of minds? You can’t be just a robot, with the director telling you every little thing.”

Elias’ devotion to music has not left a great deal of time for what some call a private life, but she has no regrets.

“I have no other life. I am married, yes, but my life is my music, and I love it. It is the one thing that has brought me happiness. If I’m down, I go to my bubble bath and listen to Wagner’s ‘Tristan and Isolde,’ and I’m in heaven.

“My music is a religion. I like to swim and keep healthy, but part of my health is my music, and part of my not health is not having music. Music is what nourishes me.”