Opera : Sleepwalking With Riedel, Bonynge in San Diego

“La Sonnambula” is a bel-canto masterpiece. The plot may have seemed a bit creaky even when the opera was new in 1831, but nobody cared. Bellini’s arching melodies are so glorious they defy the listener not to take Felice Romani’s period text seriously.

This naively sentimental essay on amorous intrigue and the triumph of purity in romantic Switzerland has survived the rigors of time primarily because of the title role. The soprano cast as Amina, a sweet village lass with an innocent penchant for nocturnal wandering, has brought out the best in such diversely dazzling prima donnas as Pasta, Malibran, Patti, Tetrazzini (no chicken when it came to high notes), Pons, Callas, Scotto and Sutherland.

Venturing the mellifluous challenge for the first time, the San Diego Opera entrusted the diva duties to a highly promising newcomer from Australia, Deborah Riedel, and the musical direction to a long-waving bel-canto expert, Richard Bonynge. Nevertheless, the local authorities tried to sell their show as an exercise in lurid scuzz.

“Sleepwalker ends up in a stranger’s bed,” teased an ad. “It’s a tender love story with a twist,” gushed the follow-up, “when a sleepwalking fiancee with a preference for rooftops and other people’s bedrooms, a perfect stranger, a rumor-mongering gossip queen, and a citizenry that’s seeing ghosts all cross paths. . . .”

Gosh. Golly.

*

Judging by the number of empty seats at the Civic Theatre at the opening Saturday, the pitch caused no box-office stampede. But those who came did have a good time. Encouraged to ignore the lofty score, they laughed a lot at Sonya Friedman’s literal supertitles, which automatically accentuated sight at the expense of sound.

The sights were quaint. Zack Brown’s canvas decors, borrowed from Washington, dealt in antiquated picture-postcard realism. Leon Major’s stage direction concentrated on let’s-pretend theatrics and efficient traffic patterns.

The play was not the thing. Contrary to commercial promises, this “Sonnambula” represented a vocal exercise first and foremost. At least it was a rewarding exercise.

The ever-stylish Bonynge may well be an old Svengali in search of a new Trilby now that his wife, Joan Sutherland, has retired. If that is the case, his collaboration with Riedel could turn out to be very interesting at worst, very fruitful at best.

The young soprano certainly is no chirping windup doll, no fragile, pretty-pretty songbird. Her voice, essentially a lirico-spinto, is big and bright, pliant and strong. The repertory listed in her program biography suggests no history of coloratura typecasting. She comes from relatively heroic ranks.

Under the circumstances, one should not expect absolute perfection, or total security, in her flights of fioratura fancy. Not yet, anyway. She does command an amazing top extension, however, and she already maneuvers her ample sound in the dizzy stratosphere with remarkable agility. Even better, she traces long legato lines with skillful ease, not to mention dynamic sensitivity.

Her performance at this juncture is more notable for daring than for suavity (one wonders if she ever ventured “Sonnambula” before). She finds the introspection of “Ah! non credea mirarti” more congenial than the climactic fireworks of “Ah! non giunge.” She portrays the troubled protagonist essentially as a plump-and-pleasing person, and her hand-me-down costumes make her resemble nothing so much as a pink-and-pretty birthday cake.

Even so, she serves notice of a flamboyant yet poignant talent. Deborah Riedel. Remember the name.

*

Ian Campbell surrounded his compelling heroine with a remarkably imposing ensemble.

Ramon Vargas, a sympathetic lyric-tenor from Mexico, made his local debut as a rare Elvino who could capitalize on warmth, finesse, steadiness and ardor, and on fearless top tones as well. Julien Robbins’ suave basso-cantante served him elegantly as Count Rodolfo. Sylvia Wen’s pert virtuosity (note those spiffy trills) made one doubly grateful for the restoration of Lisa’s breathless aria in the last act.

James Wood, Patricia McAfee and Adam Russell lent solid support in minor roles. Martin Wright’s chorus enlivened the mock-rustic rituals, and the orchestra responded sensitively to Bonynge’s enlightened commands.

“La Sonnambula” may not have been good soap opera, as advertised. In its unabashedly old-fashioned way, however, it was good opera.

* Bellini’s “La Sonnambula,” presented by the San Diego Opera at the Civic Theatre, 202 C St., San Diego. Remaining performances Tuesday at 7, Friday at 8, Sunday at 2 and next April 20 at 7. Tickets from $18 to $85 at box office. (619) 236-6510.