MUSIC REVIEW : Not Exactly the Great Outdoors

Once upon a time, in the foolish, golden days when art seemed more important than image merchandising, opera singers gave concerts in concert halls. Then came the supertenors--count ‘em, one, two, three--and opera concerts were turned into commercial extravanganzas.

Who cared if intimate communication became an impossible dream in the vast open spaces of sports arenas and al-fresco amphitheaters? Who cared if microphones distorted and falsified the fragile human sound?

Only a critical curmudgeon could care.

Saturday night at the Greek Theatre, capacity 6,200, a brave and lonely soprano rushed in where tenors had dared to tread. Kiri Te Kanawa entered the superconcert sweepstakes.

Make that Dame Kiri Te Kanawa. Hers, after all, is a class act.

The diva from Gisborne, New Zealand, did what she could under trying conditions. She chose a generally tasteful program that juxtaposed popular arias with showbiz ditties. She engaged a real opera conductor, Stephen Barlow, to lead a large, well-picked pickup orchestra that--wonder of wonders--sounded as if it actually had been rehearsed.

She looked suitably glamorous under the ever-changing glow of red-and-blue jukebox lights. She exuded simple charm, not to mention elegant grace--except at the outset when she was peeved by the presence of a couple of photographers in the pit. (“Please,” she snipped, “it’s not a good angle.”)

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Apart from a few stressful top notes, she seemed to be in good voice. She floated extravagant legato phrases with extraordinary poise. She caressed the line--be it Puccini’s or Gershwin’s--with alluring sensitivity. She produced an abundance of sweet, creamy, sensuous tones that seemed amazingly fresh and even-scaled.

Seemed? Under the acoustical circumstances, one never could be quite sure.

A primitive amplification system subjected the precious Te Kanawa timbre to volleys of edgy echoes. Everything emerged crude and loud. From a center-aisle seat in Row N, the diva often sounded like poor Clara Cluck locked in a tinny echo-chamber. One had to make some allowances.

Still, the audience of 5,300--a sophisticated audience that had paid up to $125 per ticket and $20 per Te Kanawa T-shirt--seemed delighted. At the end, the partisans demanded, and received, encore after encore. This partisan left after the fourth, a rather prim “Summertime,” which had been preceded by a melting “O, mio babbino caro,” a rather refined “Can’t Help Lovin’ That Man” and a properly campy “I Wanna Be a Prima Donna, Donna, Donna.”

Te Kanawa began her mini-marathon with reflective and languid arias from “La Wally,” “Carmen,” “Louise” and, perhaps most poignant, “Die Tote Stadt.” Later she added reflective and languid arias from “Tosca” and “West Side Story,” the latter in a particularly soupy, uncredited arrangement. She also mustered an oddly reflective and languid performance of Musetta’s waltz from “La Boheme.”

The least languid, least reflective item on the generally somber agenda was an overdressed version of Gershwin’s “Embraceable You.” The only rarity of the evening, and a most engaging one, involved an exhumation: the overwrought mock-aria that Bernard Herrman concocted--quite brilliantly--for the mock-diva in Orson Welles’ “Citizen Kane.”

The heart quickened when the program promised music by Schonberg. The heart sank with the realization that the composer was not Arnold but Claude-Michel. The yucky-tawdry vehicle in question turned out to be “I Dreamed a Dream” from the musically miserable “Les Miz.”

“Climb Ev’ry Mountain” from “The Sound of Music” served as the official not-so-grand finale. Rodgers and Hammerstein had sent the same uplifting message more effectively, and just as stickily, with “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”

Barlow and the orchestra provided stylish, attentive accompaniments throughout, raucous sound-system notwithstanding. On their own, they padded the program with spiffy attention to Berlioz’ “Roman Carnival,” excerpts from Massenet’s “Le Cid,” Gershwin’s funky “Cuban Overture” and Bernstein’s nifty “Candide” overture.

Incidental intelligence:

* Lucky San Francisco gets to hear Te Kanawa in bona-fide opera, most recently in Richard Strauss’ “Capriccio.” Less-lucky Los Angeles must be content with starlit pops.

Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised by the inequity. A few weeks ago, Jose Carreras sang a bona-fide indoor recital in San Diego, but he apparently feels another Greek Theatre facsimile was good enough for us. The Joffrey Ballet is performing normal repertory in San Francisco, but sending only its Princely pizazz rock show to the Music Center.

* Two interesting signs (of the times) greeted Te Kanawa’s admirers at the entrance to the Greek Theatre. One warned that bottles, liquor, weapons, drugs and “other contraband” would not be allowed. The other demands to be reprinted verbatim:

“Excessive sound levels may impair your hearing. Ear plugs are available for purchase at the concession stand.”