Weekend Reviews : Opera : An Earthy Carmen in Orange County

‘Tis the season in Southern California. Or, to be precise, ‘tis the 10th anniversary season.

In Los Angeles, the Music Center Opera is celebrating its first decade of missionary activity with some vital Verdi and some woeful Wagner. (The ongoing celebration took a crisis turn Saturday night when the “Stiffelio” show had to go on without its star, Placido Domingo--see Morning Report). Meanwhile, 40 miles down the freeway, Opera Pacific inaugurated its own 10th season, amid the usual brouhaha, with a brand-new production of Bizet’s ever-popular yet ever-forbidding “Carmen.” The most irrational of art forms seems to be taking root, at last, in what used to be a lyric wasteland.

Opera in conservative Orange County isn’t exactly noted for a sense of adventure. For most of his regime, David DiChiera has concentrated on standard repertory in standard-brand, hand-me-down productions.

The milestone “Carmen” didn’t exactly break with cautious tradition. But, instead of the tattered warehouse decors to which we have nearly become resigned, the local impresario came up with picturesque sets just created by Hugh Lester for the New Orleans Opera. And instead of the usual tired-traffic-cop maneuvers, Dejan Miladinovic revitalized old-fashioned romantic ideals with some fresh dramatic perspectives.

The production didn’t strive for revelations. But--with a solid cast on the well-appointed stage and with an enlightened conductor, Mark Gibson, holding forth in the well-staffed pit--it was a production that managed to treat both the music and the text seriously on the composer’s terms. One can’t take such basic virtues for granted in opera these days.

Ultimately, any “Carmen” rises or falls with its Carmen. The tempestuous heroine often has been portrayed over the years as a Hollywood sex-bomb, as a caricature vamp, as an erotic witch and as a feline carefully schooled in Gallic chic.

Graciela Araya, the Chilean mezzo-soprano from Germany who made her U.S. debut on Saturday, fits none of the common stereotypes. She doesn’t care about conventional glamour, and doesn’t even try to simulate it. She doesn’t snarl or simper. She doesn’t exert an instant magnetic force, physically or vocally. She manipulates the tone at her command--smoky and occasionally even raspy, more impressive at the top than the bottom--with conversational nonchalance rather than emphatic force.

But she knows what she is doing, and what she does is compelling. This woman is smart. This woman is tough. This woman takes chances.

She exudes earthiness in the manner of Anna Magnani--not Rita Hayworth (who, incidentally, once played gypsy-pipsy to the heroic victim of Glenn Ford). Araya’s Carmen can be brash and vulgar one moment, innocent and playful the next. She doesn’t fake anything, doesn’t exaggerate, doesn’t stoop to charades. She colors the text subtly. Her verismo seductress is a woman, not a girl, and, for all her smiling and pouting, a fascinatingly dangerous woman.

This Carmen certainly isn’t bigger than life. It is never altogether clear why all of Seville should be at her feet. Perhaps that doesn’t matter. She is obviously amused at the prospect of unexplained power, and she makes the most of her fatal opportunities.

Patrick Denniston, the young American tenor who replaced the ailing Gegam Grigorian as Don Jose, offers a telling foil. Tall, slender and eminently vulnerable--toy-soldier bravado notwithstanding--he enacts the hero’s plight with rare sensitivity and sings with sympathetic intensity.

A critical ingrate might worry that his spinto resources sometimes tighten under pressure. A purist might wish for more dynamic finesse (a pianissimo B-flat at the crest of the Flower Song, for instance). Still, anyone can tell that Denniston is a major talent.

*

The rest of the cast proved uneven, though never less than competent. Laurinda Nikkel mustered a sweet, dutiful and monochromatic Micaela. Gregg Baker blustered and swaggered very nicely as Escamillo, the ubiquitous toreador (a role most basses find too high and most baritones too low).

Carmen’s sidekicks included shrill soubrettes as Frasquita and Mercedes (Robin L. Follman and Kate Butler), a strong Dancairo (John Atkins) and a meek Remendado (Ray Hornblower). The dragoons included a brutish Zuniga (Donald Sherrill) and a bland Morales (Donald Christensen).

The lusty chorus, trained by Henri Venanzi, performed with gratifying discipline. It would have been nice if someone had taught the gentlemen how to pronounce chacun in the first line of the opera, but, in general, this wasn’t exactly a night of delight for French linguists.

Miladinovic kept the action moving crisply (apart from the silly parade of bullfighters in the last act) within Lester’s properly evocative, essentially literal sets. Cliches were carefully avoided. Juan Talavera provided flamenco chorography that looked reasonably authentic yet all but obliterated Carmen’s central contribution to the “Chanson Bohe^me.” Jane Greenwood’s costumes looked attractively neutral. Stephen Ross’ lighting scheme reinforced the inherent conflicts with unabashed theatricality.

Gibson, the propulsive conductor, observed the fine line that separates sentiment from gush and accompanied the singers most sympathetically. As editor, he restored most of the time-dishonored Guiraud recitatives (undeniably effective if unquestionably corrupt), although he did restore passages of the original spoken dialogue for several key scenes (effective but, in this context, a breach of style).

*

Incidental intelligence:

--The dressy first-nighters, who seemed to love everything, didn’t quite fill the 3,000-seat house. If a gala “Carmen” isn’t an automatic sellout these days, one must wonder what is.

--The program magazine, error-ridden as always, promised two intermissions instead of the three delivered, informed the reader that “Carmen” was written 20 years ago, and listed a Ludociv Halevy as one of the librettists. Anyone for proofreading?

“Carmen,” presented by Opera Pacific at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, 600 Town Center Drive, Costa Mesa, on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday at 8 p.m., Sunday at 2 p.m. (different principals appear Saturday). $15 to $85. (714) 556-2787.