A pastiche of passion, poetry

If a stranger, an opera fan from afar, happened into the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on Saturday afternoon, he or she would certainly have thought things very odd. First of all, it was not easy to get to the Music Center for a peculiar triple bill by Los Angeles Opera. With a few thousand demonstrators downtown voicing their opposition to war, the police went into full battle mode, shutting freeway exits.

Once inside, the antiwar theme continued with not opera but an unstaged Monteverdi madrigal of war, “Il Combattimento di Tancredi e Clorinda” (The Battle Between Tancredi and Clorinda), in an arrangement that Luciano Berio made in the late ‘60s for a performance at the Juilliard School that was meant as a Vietnam War protest. The 25-minute early Baroque masterpiece is a scene of frightful combat between two heavily armored knights. The crusader, Tancredi, discovers only as Clorinda is dying that he has slaughtered his love, a Saracen maiden disguised as a warrior.

The handful of string players and three singers left the stage, but the harpsichord remained as a prop for what followed -- a minimally staged performance of the third and fourth acts of “Werther,” Massenet’s opera about the poet who kills himself because his love marries another. After intermission, with again rudimentary staging, came the last act of Verdi’s “Otello,” one of the most moving death scenes in all opera.

Our stranger would have been further amazed that such desultory programming boasted considerable star power. Frederica von Stade and Roberto Alagna were Charlotte and Werther. Alagna sang the “Otello” act for the first time anywhere. In a bit of luxury casting, Vladimir Chernov had walk-on parts as Albert in “Werther” and Iago in “Otello.” An important emerging singer, Isabel Bayrakdarian, was Clorinda. Kent Nagano conducted Monteverdi and Massenet. Placido Domingo conducted Verdi. The audience gave all involved a standing ovation.

There was, as most local opera-goers know, an explanation for this curiosity, which the company called “A Concert of Passion & Poetry,” but which might also be considered a short treatise on three ways to kill your lover.

The opera was to have been the premiere of Monteverdi’s “The Coronation of Poppea” in a new version by Berio created for Von Stade and Domingo. When an auto accident two summers ago forced the Italian composer to push the deadline up to the last minute, the company decided to go ahead with a concert performance. In October, Berio, said to be gravely ill, announced that the opera would have to be postponed. With little time, the company came up with its solution, the Berio/Monteverdi madrigal being the only possible nod to the original concept.

But that was not the end of it. Domingo, who was to sing the roles of Werther and Otello, developed a severe bronchial infection late in December and twisted Alagna’s arm to step in and save the day, creating new adventures since the popular French tenor didn’t have a current visa to work in this country.

As the curtain raiser, “Il Combattimento,” a battle narration with a few touching interjections from the combatants, made an extraordinary, if offbeat, effect. Monteverdi revolutionized musical style in 1624 to dramatize the anger and violence in the text taken from Torquato Tasso’s 16th century epic, “Jerusalem Delivered.” Berio’s version did no additional violence to the work, faithfully adapting it to modern string instruments.

As Testo, the narrator, riveting tenor Kresimir Spicer brought the battle scene to shocking life in the listener’s imagination. Alfredo Daza was a strong Tancredi, and Bayrakdarian invested her few dying words with devastating emotion. Vera Calabria, the director, offered a striking touch at the end, opening panels at the back of the stage to reveal a wall of Italian names suggestive of the Vietnam War Memorial in Washington.

Coming into “Werther,” mid-opera, was not an easy transition. With the characters having already turned somewhat sour, we had no reason to sympathize with them. Massenet’s music sounded heavy-handed after Monteverdi. Lisa Hashimoto’s makeshift “scenic elements,” and the hammy acting, reminded me of opera on “The Bell Telephone Hour,” a television program from the ‘50s. Monica Kilkus appeared to have rummaged through the costume shop for her “costume elements.”

Von Stade and Alagna proved perfectly acceptable, considering that they were given no opportunity to develop their characters. Both are inherently light singers whose voices have turned heavier with age, but they still suit the Massenet style. Alagna tends to push his high notes for effect, but he still has them, so he gets what he wants. Chernov, in his few lines, made a deliciously sarcastic Albert; Maki Mori, a pleasing Sophie. Nagano -- ever elegant, dramatic and compelling -- made as much sense of the Monteverdi/Massenet pairing as possible.

Alagna proved a quick study as Otello. It is not a role suited to his lyric tenor, and he has acknowledged that he was initially hesitant to attempt it. But if he has neither the ideal dramatic or vocal heft yet to dig deeply into Otello’s tortured psyche, he looked good in his tight black costume and offered a reasonable facsimile of jealous rage. And he knew the notes. With two weeks’ notice, and a couple days of rehearsal, that is impressive.

Most impressive, however, was Carmen Giannattasio, especially the startling, breath-stopping intensity she brought to Desdemona’s “Ave Maria.” Little-known outside Italy and a winner in Domingo’s Operalia contest in Paris last year, she is a find. With Domingo solidly supportive in the pit, and excellent contributions from Milena Kitic’s Emelia and Chernov’s Iago, it was almost possible to overlook just how haphazard the whole enterprise had been.

*

L.A. Opera

What: “A Concert of Passion & Poetry”

Where: Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., downtown L.A.

When: Tuesday, Friday, Sunday, 7:30 p.m.

Price: $35 to $170

Information: (213) 365-3500