A Modernized Opera Misses the Mark

This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

The New York Sun

Does Donizetti’s “L’Elisir d’Amore,” now in a new production at the New York City Opera, anticipate Wagner? Probably not. Yet in reading the story of Tristan and Isolda, one could be forgiven for thinking so.

In Donizetti’s opera, the young widow Adina sets the plot in motion by giving her gullible admirer Nemorino the idea that a love potion actually exists. And what character in opera has a more Lohengrin-like entrance than the quack Dr. Dulcamara, glimpsed at a distance by an awe-struck chorus whose wonderment grows as the mysterious figure draws ever nearer?

In Jonathan Miller’s production of “L’Elisir” at NYCO, which made its premiere Saturday night, Dr. Dulcamara arrives in a Ford convertible of mid-1950s vintage (why not a Cadillac El Dorado?), confirming for us what we already surmised: that Mr. Miller has transplanted the action from an Italian village to a mid-century American diner in the Southwest.

Will this be Mr. Miller’s last opera production for New York, as he has previously intimated in interviews? If so, it will at least supply symmetry to his American opera career, which goes back to his famous “Rigoletto,” a production set in Little Italy and brought to New York by the English National Opera. We have come far since then, although, this new “L’Elisir” is pleasant, but nothing special.

In fact, I was struck by just how conventional the production seemed, with notable exceptions both good and bad. Most of the personal direction could have worked for any setting, and didn’t disclose much about the characters of this wonderful opera. But Sergeant Belcore, dressed in military khakis (Isabella Bywater is the designer), comes off as a stronger personality — and a more serious rival to Nemorino — than the usual figure in a toy soldier’s uniform. In a genuinely inspired moment, Adina walks past Nemorino during the introduction to the famous aria “Una furtiva lagrima” and looks into his eyes. Now we finally know the origin of that “furtive tear.”

On the other hand, the setting of “Adina’s Diner” is not much of an advance over “Despina’s Diner,” made famous in the Peter Sellars “Cosi Fan Tutte.” And the isolated, chartreuse-walled building in the middle of the desert runs counter to the rustic community suggested in the music. The 50s, of course, gave birth to rock ‘n’ roll, but the stretta of the first-act finale featured characters dancing the jitterbug (an action hardly supported by Donizetti’s sprightly ensemble in quick triple meter). And for the “barcaruola a due voci” at Adina’s wedding party, Dulcamara grabbed a live microphone and crooned his lines in a jazzed up version, utterly destroying this charming number.

And then there were the supertitles, credited to Cori Ellison. Mr. Miller seems to have regarded them as an additional source of potential laughs.The titles were peppered with lines like Belcore’s “When Elvis joined the army all the babes went wild” and Adina’s “I go through guys like Popeye goes through spinach.” If this is the start of a trend to make titles gratuitously funny, it needs to be stopped at once.

Conductor George Manahan supplied capable leadership on the musical front. Making her City Opera debut, Russian-born Anna Skibinsky displayed both the strengths and weaknesses of talented Slavonic sopranos. Her voice is well formed and lustrous in tone yet she had difficultly projecting the words, which rendered her performance somewhat bland. Still, she made an expressive moment of her big aria near the close, when her love for Nemorino has at last been made known.

John Tessier downplayed Nemorino’s bumpkin qualities to welcome effect, and since (according to the supertitles) the love potion is not Bordeaux wine but Robitussin, we were spared the usual tiresome scenes of drunkenness. More importantly, Mr. Tessier offered an arresting, shapely account of “Una furtiva lagrima.” Paulo Szot’s imposing baritone made Belcore a force with which to reckon. And as Dr. Dulcamara, Jan Opalach was every inch the wheeler-dealer, right down to his twotone wingtips. His commanding singing of the great entrance aria “Udite, o rustici” made his mash-up of the barcarolle all the more regrettable.

Until November 16 (Lincoln Center, 212-721-6500).


The New York Sun

© 2024 The New York Sun Company, LLC. All rights reserved.

Use of this site constitutes acceptance of our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy. The material on this site is protected by copyright law and may not be reproduced, distributed, transmitted, cached or otherwise used.

The New York Sun

Sign in or  Create a free account

By continuing you agree to our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use