'Il Trittico' Is Rousing Met Performance By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Filed at 3:15 p.m. ET
NEW YORK (AP) – Audiences are in for a triple treat at the Metropolitan Opera, where the season is winding down just as it began – with an exciting new production of a Giacomo Puccini masterpiece.
Il Trittico, a collection of three very different one-act
pieces that opened Friday night, had its world premiere at the
Met in 1918 but has never achieved the popularity of classics
like La Boheme or Madama Butterfly.
So for the first new staging since 1975, the Met was smart to
engage director Jack O'Brien (Hairspray, Dirty Rotten
Scoundrels) and set designer Douglas W. Schmidt (42nd
Street, Into the Woods to lend the evening some Broadway
pizazz. That, plus an exceptional cast and terrific work by
conductor James Levine and the orchestra, made it all come
together.
O'Brien drives straight to the theatrical heart of each work, stopping only to update the action to the mid-20th century. The changes are mostly noticeable in Jess Goldstein's costumes, and purists are unlikely to take offense.
The opener, Il Tabarro (The Cloak), is a melodrama of
sexual frustration and murder set on a Parisian barge in the
Seine. Michele, the barge owner, knows his wife, Giorgetta, is
cheating on him and strangles the stevedore Luigi, when he comes
on board for an assignation. The title refers to the opera's
over-the-top conclusion: Michele conceals the body in his cloak
until Giorgetta approaches, then snatches it away to reveal her
lover's corpse.
Schmidt gives us not only the barge in the river but a set of stone steps leading from the shore to a foot bridge that spans the entire stage above the water. Thanks to the delicate lighting (by Jules Fisher and Peggy Eisenhauer), the skyline darkens almost imperceptibly as night – and calamity – approaches.
Soprano Maria Guleghina and tenor Salvatore Licitra were well- matched as the unhappy lovers, both in strong, passionate singing and their committed portrayals. Unfortunately, Michele was no match for them. Baritone Frederick Burchinal, substituting for an indisposed Juan Pons, struggled with both volume and pitch.
Puccini filled his score with bits of local color – a car honking, an organ-grinder playing off-key, young lovers tenderly parting – and he created one memorable minor character, the rag picker Frugola.
But someone forgot to tell Stephanie Blythe that she's a minor character. This phenomenal mezzo came close to stealing the show with her powerhouse vocalism and vivid acting.
And she returned after the first intermission to do the same in
Suor Angelica (Sister Angelica), as the title
character's cold, unforgiving aunt.
Angelica is the morbidly sentimental tale of a nun who
poisons herself after learning her illegitimate son has died.
Through a miracle, her mortal sin is forgiven and she is
reunited with the boy in heaven.
There's probably no way to approach this piece except to play it straight, which is what O'Brien does. The set is a spacious convent courtyard with a flower garden from which Angelica plucks the ingredients for her deadly brew. The miracle is suggested by a shaft of dazzling light that pours through a crucifix-like opening above the doors of the chapel at the back, and, yes, the dead child appears through the open doors.
Musically, the first half of Angelica is weakest. But it
gathers dramatic steam and inspiration with the arrival of the
Principessa, who brings her niece word of the child's death. In
chilling, harmonically hollow phrases, the aunt berates Angelica
for the shame she has brought on the family. Yet Blythe makes
her a figure of some pathos as well, showing the struggle within
as she starts to reach out in sympathy, then pulls back.
Angelica rises or falls on the strength of the title
character, and soprano Barbara Frittoli is up to the challenge.
Her aria Senza mamma (Without his mother) was simple,
and direct, and she conveyed the right mix of fear and ecstasy
in the moving final scene.
With elaborate set changes, the evening runs long – 4 hours and
15 minutes – but wisely O'Brien and Puccini saved the best for
last. The composer's only comedy, Gianni Schicchi, is an
irresistibly tuneful tale of a greedy family given their
comeuppance by a wily rogue in early Renaissance Florence (here,
1959).
Relatives of Buoso Donati have gathered by his bedside and are pretending to mourn his death when the curtain rises. Their mock tears turn real when they find a will leaving all his money to a group of monks. Schicchi comes to their rescue by agreeing to impersonate Donati, but warns them they will be severely punished if the fraud is discovered. Then he dictates a new will to a notary, and turns the tables – leaving the most valuable possessions to himself.
In the title role, baritone Alessandro Corbelli more than made
up in charisma and comic timing what he may lack in vocal heft.
Debuting soprano Olga Mykytenko made a strong impression as
Schicchi's daughter Lauretta, whose brief aria O mio babbino
caro is the night's most familiar melody. And tenor Massimo
Giordano displayed a bright lyric tone as her boyfriend
Rinuccio. Once again, Blythe dominated her scenes, this time as
one of the dead man's cousins, Zita.
O'Brien saved one surprise for the end. After Schicchi chases the relatives from what is now his house, the stage elevator lowers the bedroom set to reveal a balcony, where Lauretta and Rinuccio gaze out at the city of Florence. It's a magical image to complete a memorable night.
Il Trittico runs for seven more performances, including the final night of the season on May 12. It continues the company's move under new general manager Peter Gelb to turn to directors from outside the opera world. That's been particularly successful with Anthony Minghella's season-opening Madama Butterfly and Bartlett Sher's Il Barbiere di Siviglia. One more new production is on tap next month, Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice, directed and choreographed by Mark Morris.