Atlantov as Otello: A Hero Out of Control in Costa Mesa

Verdi’s Otello may just be the most daunting challenge for a tenor in all Italian opera. That’s why many a performance these days turns out to be a stopgap exercise in wishful thinking: an “Otello,” that is, without an Otello.

It didn’t happen Saturday night at the Orange County Performing Arts Center when David DiChiera and Opera Pacific tried their ambitious hand for the first time at the tragedy of the Moor of Venice. Vladimir Atlantov was cast in the title role.

Atlantov spent most of his career sadly hidden behind the Iron Curtain. Although he received some training in Milan and was allowed to make occasional guest appearances in foreign houses, he devoted his prime to the stages of his native Leningrad and Moscow. Our loss.

Now he is trying to make up for missed opportunities, and the clock may not be in his favor. At 57, his magnificent voice is beginning to show some signs of wear or, worse, mistreatment.

Atlantov’s tenor still seems a wondrous force of nature: huge, dark, plangent, capable of a thrilling ring at the top, consistently rich and burnished at the bottom. Disregard the claptrap in the program magazine about his “timbre” being “sunny and bright.”

Unlike most of his contemporary rivals, this Otello can blow away a symphony orchestra in a single breath. He can rise to the high climaxes with shattering ease. He can endure the marathon without apparent strain.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t always make the most of his opportunities. During the first act, he pushed beyond the endurance level. High notes wobbled and curdled. Intonation sagged. Rhythmic accuracy crumbled. Soft tones all but evaporated. Poses substituted for characterization. Disaster loomed.

Then, after the first of too many intermissions, matters improved. Somewhat.

One still yearned in vain for subtlety of phrasing, for dynamic variety and for dramatic intensity. Nevertheless, one had to admire the granitic grandeur of Atlantov’s sound. Once he had his resources under control (control being a relative commodity in this case), he proved that he still can make Otello work on his own primitive terms.

One has to be grateful for loud favors. In order to really savor them here, however, one has to put aside fond memories of Mario del Monaco, James McCracken and Jon Vickers--disparate paragons of the recent past. One also has to try to forget Ramon Vinay, the Chilean tenore robusto who died two weeks ago in a Mexican nursing home--a towering Otello favored by both Toscanini and Furtwaler.

The conductor on duty in Costa Mesa was Steven Mercurio, a New Yorker now in charge of the Spoleto Festival in Umbria. He suggested intimate knowledge of the Toscanini recording, a splendid model in matters of tautness and momentum, bravado and balance. Living up to the implications of his name, Mercurio sustained excitement without hysteria, and he gave the lyricism its due in the process. He also accompanied his singers tactfully. Clearly, this is a major talent.

The cast at his disposal turned out to be uneven. So what else is new in beautiful downtown Costa Mesa?

Kallen Esperian brought grace, pathos and luminous tone, not to mention surprising emotional spunk, to the arching plaints of Desdemona. Robert McFarland’s intelligent, properly poised and insinuating Iago was imposing, even though the crest of the Brindisi and the force of the Credo stretched his lean baritone.

Dean Elzinga offered an awkwardly lightweight Lodovico, Ian DeNolfo a bland Cassio. The others faded pleasantly into Zack Brown’s canvas woodwork--spacious, literal sets designed in 1992 for a smaller stage in Washington. Jan Skalicky’s all-purpose costumes looked familiar. No wonder. They were first seen at the Los Angeles Music Center Opera a decade ago, and taken out of mothballs as recently as last season.

Mario Corradi, the debutant director, made no serious effort to reinterpret the libretto. Wise man. He kept the movement fluid, the action nicely motivated. He manipulated Henri Venanzi’s large and lusty if untidy chorus deftly. His only miscalculations involved the resident arch-villain--the indulgence of a cornball cackle at the close of Act 3, and, worse, the decision to let Otello kill his adversary during the finale, even though the program synopsis clearly states the ironic truth: “Iago escapes.”

The house wasn’t quite sold out. But the first-nighters registered ample enthusiasm.

* Remaining performances of “Otello” at the Orange County Performing Arts Center, 600 Town Center Drive, Costa Mesa, on Wednesday, Saturday and Jan. 31 at 8 p.m., Feb. 4 at 2 p.m. $18-$85. Student and senior rush seats $15, if available, one hour before curtain. (714) 474-4488.