Past Production Reviews
2It’s a smartly written tale about how the humble servant Figaro and his friends try to outsmart the handsome and powerful Count Almaviva in such a way that all can live happily ever after. You might be put off a bit because it’s in Italian. But somehow with the text above the stage, the mode of the music, and the artistic lighting, I’m sure you’ll understand every word and feeling. It’s been over 200 years since this work had its premier, and yet it almost feels like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is standing in the wings. Almost as amazing as the opera is the talent brought together to make this production a reality. As I watched, I felt like everyone on stage had been singing and performing together for years. However, after reading their biographies, you realize that these extremely talented individuals have traveled many different paths to find themselves in Pittsburgh for our enjoyment. The audience was made up of opera lovers of all ages from teens to retirees. There is no dress code for going to an opera. A small percentage of those in attendance wore jeans and another small group were in formal attire. The Benedum is a gorgeous and an extremely comfortable venue for enjoying any kind of performance. Every time an opera singer takes a part in a production as famous and popular as The Marriage of Figaro, they are compared to the many talented performers who have sang that same part in days gone by. Let the experts compare. All I want to do is to say thanks to all the talented folks that gave me an evening I won’t soon forget. A special thanks to Tyler Simpson, who played Figaro, Joelle Harvey, who sang the part of Susanna, and Christian Bowers who brought to life Count Almaviva. All three were making their Pittsburgh Opera Debut. And a special thanks goes to Pittsburgher Danielle Pastin, who sang the roll of Countess Almaviva. I have always enjoyed opera music, but I sort of kept it to myself. I started to believe being an opera fan must be a cool thing when I learned that the great race car driver, Mario Andretti was an opera fan. Now, I don’t need someone else to validate my appreciation of the art form; I simply enjoy it. And I’m sure you would too.
The opening set piece is a film montage that sets up the premise of a shipwreck and rescue set to Mozart’s overture. The cinematography is handsomely stylized, but having the vocalists appear onstage to interact with the projection was distracting and unnecessary. The orchestra, conducted by Glenn Lewis, delivered the overture with an almost perfunctory air. Throughout the work, there were consistent intonation problems, balance issues in chords and an uncharacteristic lack of precision and grace. After the overture, the canvas screen lifted and resettled on stage in the shape of a canvas tent surrounded by orange life preservers, presumably to evoke a refugee camp. Soprano Ashley Fabian (Ilia, last surviving member of her Trojan family) opened with a voice that sounded small at first but warmed and became more expressive over the course of the evening. Tenor Terrence Chin-Loy (Idomeneo) was a convincingly distraught and displaced king of Crete. Mezzo-soprano Antonia Botti-Lodovico (Idamente, in a pants role) looked and sounded every bit the spurned prince, and soprano Caitlin Gotimer (Elletra) shone in her finale as she suffers a jealous breakdown. This transformed production uses lyrics from the original libretto, stitched together to create a new tale. It’s an awkward fit, with character motivations simplified to the point of parody and plot developments that feel like they’re appearing out of left field. Still, the vocals were strong. All four cast members belong to Pittsburgh Opera’s Resident Artist program, one of the premiere training programs for developing opera singers. Mr. Chin-Loy and Ms. Gotimer were especially powerful, their solo and ensemble work alike fizzing with tension and nuance. Ms. Botti-Lodovico was superb, increasingly desperate and wild, as her character is repeatedly rebuffed and pushed away by his father. Traditional opera is notorious for its length — some of the staples can easily run three or four hours — and shortening works as evening-length entertainment is a worthy experiment. But this production doesn’t just cut, it adapts. The refugee aspects feel largely tacked on, perhaps as a way to make the opera more “relevant,” and this seems contrived, however well-intentioned.
