Music Review : A Tough Knight at the Opera

Time for some eternal verities. Also some ancient bromides.

* The best-laid schemes o’ Mike Milenski gang aft-kerfluey.

* Don’t count your Falstaffs until they’re wet.

* All operatic wives are created merry, but some are merrier than others.

* Throwing the book at the soprano doesn’t necessarily set wisdom in flight.

* It isn’t over till the fat gentleman sings.

* In the wonderful world of opera, anything that can go wrong will go wrong, especially if it’s the wonderful world of opera in Long Beach.

* The Ford in your future isn’t always the one you expect.

* All’s well that ends.

* Tutto nel mondo e burla .

It all began last year when Milenski, dauntless leader of the ever-adventurous and always-beleaguered Long Beach Opera, decided to fulfill an unlikely dream. He wanted to stage Verdi’s ultimate masterpiece, “Falstaff,” within the intimate confines of the 800-seat Center Theater.

Here, he believed, the subtle wit and wisdom of the quasi-Shakespearean text--translated back into English--could coexist with the sonic miracles of the autumnal score.

There would be some adjustments, of course. More than ever, the singers would be chosen for their theatrical as well as vocal skills. A canny director and designer would have to transform the modest playing area into a reasonable--or, perhaps, delightfully unreasonable--facsimile of King Hal’s Windsor.

Most perplexing, perhaps, the mighty symphonic apparatus envisioned by the genial composer in his late 80s would have to be drastically reduced. No problem.

Long Beach made it a matter of pride long ago to rush in where fools fear to tread, and the company has regularly triumphed over impracticality. It just so happened, moreover, that a touring company in Birmingham, England, had come up with a chamber-size “Falstaff” that required only 16 players in the pit.

All went well, we are told, until friction between a soprano and a stage director began to ruffle ensemble composure during rehearsals. That’s an understatement.

Milenski charged that Angelina Reaux, engaged to portray Alice Ford, had become a disruptive influence (the newly discovered Kathleen Battle syndrome?) and had made impossible demands regarding time off. The soprano countered through her manager that she had “suffered a physical assault at the hands of Moshe Leiser,” who shared directorial duties with Patrice Caurier, and also, she claimed had “verbally threatened her life.”

Milenski attributed the altercation to normal backstage stresses. He did confirm, however, that, in a moment of frustration, a score had been thrown in the direction of the prima donna.

Exit the prima donna. Exit with her, the originally scheduled Falstaff, who happened to be her husband.

This left Milenski scrambling at the last minute to find appropriate replacements for two central artists--replacements, that is, who could quickly assimilate the complex staging patterns while performing a little-known English-language version of the opera.

On April 18, five days before the opening, Milenski had brought in a new Falstaff, John Rawnsley of London, and a new Mistress Ford, Nikki Li Hartliep of San Francisco. The show was saved, right?

Not quite.

Rawnsley, remembered as a striking Rigoletto in San Diego’s conventional production as well as in Jonathan Miller’s modern-Mafioso edition, did not know “Falstaff” in English, and needed to keep the text at hand. Also, it was too late to indoctrinate the additions to the cast into the theatrical complexities of the production.

*

Ergo, Milenski abandoned the sets, sent the costumes back to the warehouse, forgot all about his ideal of opera as valid modern drama, struck directors and designers from the program credits, canceled advertising, discouraged backstage interviews, mailed semi-apologetic explanations to his subscribers, and settled in desperation for something akin to a concert performance.

And that’s what the customers got on Sunday afternoon. The mini-orchestra was placed in front of a narrow platform that supported a row of chairs and music stands. The sporty cast, dressed in improvised contemporary mufti, came and went, executed some dutiful mime, projected character as much as the anti-illusion circumstances would allow, sang neatly, toyed inventively with their music stands, and pretended not to notice that the all-important protagonist was paying more attention to the printed score than to his wily antagonists.

The result wasn’t much of a “Falstaff” as “Falstaffs” go in serious opera houses. But it looked like a very pleasant, very promising Sitzprobe .

Sitzprobe ? That’s a nice German word for an early rehearsal in which the cast sits around and reads through the challenge at hand, sketching characterizations along the way and faking the action in the process.

Rawnsley sounded a bit dry but he sang nicely, even elegantly, as long as the vocal line didn’t dip too low. Poised, charming and apparently unfazed, Hartliep sounded like the world-class diva she is.

The others, invariably supportive, were remarkably successful at masking what must have been considerable frustration. Kurt Ollmann seethed most agreeably as Master Ford. Robin Massie floated silvery pianissimo tones as Nannetta, in lyrical tandem with Bradley Williams’ boyish Fenton. Kitt Reuter-Foss could not produce the gallon-jug contralto tones of the perfect Quickly, but she exuded plenty of pert cheer, nicely seconded by Kate Butler as Meg Page.

Beau Palmer’s slender tenor and Scott Wilde’s booming basso lent distinction to the ploys of Falstaff’s honorable henchmen. Ross Halper whined deftly as Dr. Caius.

Steven Sloane conducted with verve that contradicted neither humor nor pathos. The tiny orchestra tended to sound a bit tinny in Jonathan Dove’s reduction, but it did uncover some stylish nuances and it did introduce some illuminating degrees of transparency.

* Opera is fun; opera is easy.

* The show must go on, after a fashion.

* “Falstaff,” presented in concert form by the Long Beach Opera at the Center Theater, 300 E. Ocean Blvd. Remaining performances Wednesday and Saturday at 8 p.m. Tickets $22, $40, $60 (also student and senior discounts). Information (310) 596-5556.