Violetta and Alfredo
La Traviata
Photo by Michael Cooper
Canadian Opera Company / La Traviata, composed by Giuseppe Verdi, libretto by Francesco Maria Piave, after a play adapted from Alexandre Dumas fils’ novel La Dame aux camélias, conducted by Paolo Carignani, directed by Arin Arbus, Four Seasons Centre, closes Oct. 17.
The Canadian Opera Company’s revival of La Traviata is a musical triumph, due in large part to the conducting of Italian maestro Paolo Carignani.
Carignani is a storyteller. People forget that the composer was inspired by the libretto. Verdi composed his music based on the words of Francesco Maria Piave, and Carignani, in turn, based his conducting on those words. In other productions of La Traviata that I have seen, there has been a wall of music, as conductors have been swept up in Verdi’s lush melodies. Carignani, on the other hand, embraced the story.
There are thoughtful pauses as a person reflects, or as actual conversations unfold between the characters. The conducting follows thought and emotion. There are breaks in the music that allow the drama to breathe. For the first time, I was actually touched by Act One and the first scene of Act Two, whereas with other conductors I am usually simply hearing the rapturous music. In other words, for the first time I am hearing La Traviata the way one listens to Puccini, as odd as that may sound.
Oddly, in other productions of La Traviata, where I am mostly hearing that wall of music, Act Two, Scene Two, in which Alfredo confronts Violetta at Flora’s salon and humiliates her in front of the guests, is usually the one scene that genuinely touches me. In this production, however, it was the one directorial miscue on the part of American Arin Arbus. It simply did not work. Violetta is left lying on the floor, yet surely someone would go to her. The doctor is there, Gastone is there, the Baron is there, Flora is there. Even if Violetta waved them away, some chivalrous soul would at least attempt to help her to her feet.
Alfredo summons the crowd, although they are already there. Père Germont enters and condemns his son for his treatment of Violetta, although he arrives too late to have witnessed what Alfredo has done. Nothing about the staging of the scene worked and, as a result, it was both disappointing and surprising. Musically, Carignani was doing all the right things, but visually the drama simply was not happening, in complete contrast to the other acts where it was. That was the great directorial disappointment of this production.
Nonetheless, Carignani, the storyteller, was aided immeasurably by American soprano Kathryn Lewek, who gave him everything he wanted because she is a singing actress nonpareil who lived her role. You felt that she was Violetta incarnate, and she matched Carignani’s thoughtful approach to the words. She was telling the story with the conductor, and that is what made this production of La Traviata so very different from others one sees. She has the coloratura to rip through “Sempre libera,” but also the beautiful singing required for the cavatina that precedes it. Hers is a sweet voice that has power when she needs it, with a ringing top but no shrillness, and beautiful, sweet notes beneath that still have heft.
Violetta and Giorgio Germont
La Traviata
Photo by Michael Cooper
Looking over her repertoire, she seems almost to be following in the footsteps of the great Kiri Te Kanawa, with Mozart and the lighter lyric soprano roles. She does have a Queen of the Night under her belt, however. Does she have the strength to move into pure bel canto? One does not know yet. She may find her natural home among the lighter Verdi heroines and Mozart. At the moment, however, it is a beautiful voice infused with sweetness. And what more could one ask? It is a voice she can taper and shape in the service of being an actress.
The Alfredo of the evening, Chinese tenor Long Long, does not possess the ringing high notes one usually associates with the role, although he can certainly make his money note. What he does have is a very warm, empathetic sound in his middle register. If he does not give you a voice of excitement, he gives you a voice of compassion, earnestness and empathy, which in some ways is almost better when you are telling a story. I suppose with tenors people want the excitement of a ringing top rather than settling for a top that simply makes it. Yet Long Long’s warmth suited the dramatic approach of this production, and I found his acting more than adequate.
Giorgio Germont was played by Canadian baritone Russell Braun. Braun has never been the strongest actor, and he began with a full-throated performance that felt as if he were singing at a concert rather than participating in a drama. His voice did settle down, however, and once he got into the extended duet with Lewek, he began to find his acting chops. By the time his duet with Long Long arrived, he had found a simpatico relationship with his colleagues. There is no getting around the fact that Braun has a wonderfully strong, hearty, fulsome baritone, but he did initially have to rein it in from recital mode and bring it into relationship with the other singers. It took him a while to find that balance, but once he did, it was a fine performance.
This lavish production entered the COC’s repertoire in 2015 and is still gorgeous to look at. Set in the 1850s, when the opera was actually written, the American creative team included all the trappings of that very opulent era in France. There are Riccardo Hernandez’s magnificent sets, and Cait O’Connor’s sumptuous gowns for the women and formal dress for the men. The many comprimario roles are handled by a fine array of Canadian singers.
I do, however, have one problem with Marcus Doshi’s lighting. There is the octet in Act Two, Scene Two, and the quintet in the final act, yet Doshi lights only the three principals — Violetta, Alfredo and Giorgio Germont. Why did Verdi write an octet and a quintet if all eight and all five singers are not meant to be seen? I found it genuinely bothersome that the other singers are left in darkness.
Flora’s Salon, The Ballet
La Traviata
Photo by Michael Cooper
On the other hand, choreographer Austin McCormick’s very decadent ballet in Act Two, Scene Two works brilliantly. The men are dressed as women, the women as men, and there are O’Connor’s ghastly skeletal bulls in the Spanish-themed entertainment. Since Flora’s party is built around the gypsy women and Spanish matadors, the ballet’s mockery of both fits perfectly into the excessiveness of the occasion.
This beautiful production has held up remarkably well after more than ten years, and now, with a wonderful storytelling maestro at the helm, it has acquired an added dimension to Arin Arbus’ original realistic direction.