The Sound of Success

Upon being named artistic director of Los Angeles Opera three years ago, Placido Domingo promised zarzuela. Spain’s distinctive form of operetta is popular in Spanish-speaking countries but rarely found in the U.S. On Tuesday night, the tenor delivered a down payment on his promise, and now there can be no turning back. I don’t think his audience will let him, nor should they, given the enthusiasm that energized the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion during the Spanish half of a program of concert excerpts from Viennese operetta and zarzuela.

The event came about oddly. Originally, the company planned a Spanish-language version of Franz Lehar’s “The Merry Widow” this month to follow its English-language production last month. Whether for financial reasons or simply because it wasn’t a very good idea, the Spanish “Widow” got dumped early in the season, and a special single night of zarzuela excerpts was added to replace it. Somewhere along the line, the program, “An Evening of Zarzuela & Operetta With Placido Domingo and Friends,” became multicultural.

It was hard not to suspect slapdash planning. Domingo has a lot of friends in high musical places, yet his famed operatic Rolodex seemed little-used on this occasion. No repertory was announced beforehand--it came in an insert with the program book. There were no notes on the musical numbers--nothing in the way of texts or translations, no descriptions of what was being sung, no information about composers or works, no dates.

Perhaps Domingo had hoped to reveal some of the shared qualities between the operetta of Vienna and that of Madrid and Barcelona. Certainly, the international craze for Lehar in the early 20th century reached Spain and influenced the zarzuela of the time. But it hardly seemed that way in the theater. The first half, mostly Lehar but framed by excerpts from Johann Strauss’ “Die Fledermaus,” felt like something left over from New Year’s Eve, the week-old champagne long gone flat and everyone ready to get on with the new year.

Indeed, the first half, beginning with the “Fledermaus” Overture, conducted by John DeMain, had little sparkle. Julia Migenes, in an aria from Emmerich Kalman’s “Countess Maritza,” fussed weirdly with her gown, which seemed easier for her to control than her high notes. The chorus that accompanied her was notable for its inability to clearly enunciate a single word.

Even Domingo sounded unusually shaky at first. The program progressed without distinction through well-known Lehar arias, sung by Domingo (who quickly warmed up), Migenes (who slowly warmed up) and Charles Castronovo (a young tenor, fresh of voice, but slight-sounding next to Domingo).

Virginia Tola and Castronovo had been exciting on stage in Los Angeles Opera’s “Merry Widow” last month; this time they sang the “Pavilion” duet in German, flatly reading from the score, the young Argentine soprano sounding erratic. But then, nothing much registered. Even DeMain, an effective conductor of the company’s “Widow,” was slow and dull, as if he were leading an early rehearsal (and maybe he was).

When Domingo opened the zarzuela half, however, everything suddenly changed. The crowd simply erupted with pleasure, and it was infectious. The conductor was Miguel Roa, music director of the Teatro de la Zarzuela in Madrid, and he brought wondrous life to the orchestra and chorus. Tola sang a popular Spanish song from Pablo Luna’s “El Nino Judio”(The Jewish Lad) with fire and charisma, a wonderful performance. And there was chemistry in her duets with both Domingo and Castronovo. Indeed, it felt as if electricity, between stage and audience, had begun to course through the house.

But in offering little more than the most rudimentary introduction to zarzuela, the program missed another opportunity. The zarzuela that is best known and was here highlighted came from early 20th century, Viennese-influenced works, particularly those by Amadeo Vives (his famous “Dona Francisquita” deserved more representation than a single chorus) and Federico Moreno Torroba (whose “Poeta” was written for Domingo shortly before the composer’s death in 1982, and something from it would have been interesting to hear). But there is much more to a genre with a history that extends from the Baroque era to the modern age, and a broader survey would have been welcome.

There is no one more qualified to bring zarzuela to Los Angeles than Domingo (his parents were zarzuela singers, and he made his debut in zarzuela). And now he knows that it crosses cultural boundaries. It was impossible to tell who cheered more loudly Tuesday, those who have a cultural connection to the form or those delighted by a new discovery.