Wickedly Tempting ‘Faust’

Los Angeles Opera has chosen an interesting historical moment in which to remount its production of Gounod’s “Faust.” Faithfulness to a source is a current touchy issue. New American operas turn to classics with respect. Gounod, on the other hand, made merry mockery of Goethe. Purists, of course, complained at the Paris premiere of the opera in its first form (with spoken dialogue); and they howled, 10 years later, when the composer “musicked” the whole thing into a French grand opera. Sophisticated eyebrows still today reach for the ceiling at the very mention of the work.

Yet “Faust” was, for a century, one of the most popular, if not the most popular opera, in the international repertory. There are reasons for that popularity and reasons why, in recent decades, it has become far less common, though not exactly rare. The opera’s renown lies in its sure sense of theatricality--its colorful, characterful music, its expert craftsmanship, its effective sweep and, most of all, its great tunes. It’s notoriety comes, in part, from its tiresome sentimentality. Faust and Marguerite are insufferable--he’s a boob; she’s a superficial girl whose fall and religious apotheosis are bathed in bathos.

The devil, however, is interesting. He doesn’t always get the best music, but he certainly has the most fun. He is there to flout public morality. He has a very well-developed French sense of irony. And at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, the devil gets his due.

Samuel Ramey, who made his L.A. Opera debut in this production Wednesday night, is not a suave Mephistopheles in the tradition of some of the great French bassos. He is more American, more outgoing; he reminds me of a charismatic carny with a subtle dark side. He is hard to resist; his maliciousness doesn’t so much have charm as a kind of careless whimsy. He lives for the moment, likes the ladies and has a sense of humor and no regrets.

At 57, near retirement age for many singers, Ramey is in superb voice. He is an agile actor who moves wonderfully and commands the stage. His Mephistopheles is a consummate performance and reason enough to endure an otherwise uneven and quite long (but thankfully still trimmed of the campy ballet) evening.

Ramey isn’t the only singer whose reputation precedes him. Marcello Giordani has been hailed as everything from the next Gedda to the next Pavarotti, the implication being that he is as elegant a tenor as he is vibrant. He is currently duking it out with Roberto Alagna for the distinction of being the “fourth tenor.” But making his L.A. Opera debut as Faust, the initial impression wasn’t powerful.

Dim lighting in the opening scene--and some of the opera’s less inspired music--didn’t help. But even by the second act (the production conflates Gounod’s five acts into three), his cavatine, “Salut! Demeure chaste et pure,” found about one beautiful note in three--the highs, pinched; the lows, hollow; intonation, iffy. The production is not initially kind to Faust, either, making him a spiritless character. By the last act, though, something clicked, and Giordani sang with a new and certain fervor.

New as well to the company was Romanian soprano Leontina Vaduva, who brings plenty of intensity and a strong voice. But there is a taste for vulgarity in Frank Corsaro’s production (now in the hands of Christopher Harlan) and Marguerite suffers most from it. Hers is the most changed character from Goethe. She murders the baby she has with Faust but then goes to her execution spiritually renewed, with God on her side. Among his many gratuities, Corsaro throws in an attempted rape in the prison.

There is, however, a wicked liveliness to the crowd scenes (although they too can turn tawdry in a flash). At the tavern, for instance, Mephistopheles pulls an arrow out of a statue of St. Sebastian and fills his glass from the wine that pours from the wound. Corsaro indulges Faust in a taste for the bottle and the wenches as well.

But at least the production keeps all the performers on their toes, and its many small, occasionally scandalous, details do help keep the opera alive. Corsaro sees Valentin, Marguerite’s brother, as a pompous prig, and Malcolm MacKenzie captures the swagger. The director does have a soft spot for the young Siebel and, in the role, Megan Dey-Toth is a bright presence.

Less attention is drawn to the pit. Conductor Philippe Auguin is also new to the company, and his concern is principally with musical rigor, especially given that the orchestra needs work.

* “Faust” continues Saturday, 1 p.m.; Tuesday, Jan. 28, 30, Feb. 2 and 5 at 7:30 p.m., Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., $27-$146, (213) 365-3500.