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FLORIDA GRAND OPERA
MANON LESCAUT (1-31-07)
By Lawrence Budmen
Giacomo Puccini’s Manon Lescaut was the Italian operatic master’s first great success. It remains his most passionate, deeply felt work. Setting a familiar novel by Prevost that has provided inspiration for scores of composers, Puccini summoned a passionate, dramatic lyricism that changed the musical face of Italian opera. While there were musico-dramatic flaws in Florida Grand Opera’s production, much of Puccini’s soaring music came vibrantly alive on January 31 at the Carnival Center’s Ziff Opera House.
Veteran conductor Angelo Cavallaro led the Florida Classical Orchestra in a performance of unwavering power and intensity. Cavallaro’s idiomatic leadership infused the entire cast with true Puccinian passion and drama. The beautiful Intermezzo (which opens Act III) soared on wings of silky ecstasy under Cavallaro’s baton. The rich, deep tones of Iris Van Eck’s cello and the amber timbre of Scott Flavin’s violin waxed poignantly in this orchestral vignette. Cavallaro and his musicians received the ovation of the evening.
While Michel Beaulac’s sets and costumes were attractive in a traditional manner, Bernard Uzan’s direction was fussy, often failing to coherently present key dramatic moments. Some of Uzan’s blocking was musically disadvantageous for the singers. Guy Simard’s lighting was surprisingly ineffective.
In the title role Sylvie Valayre was glamour personified. The French soprano’s darkly colored; dusky timbre and edgy upper register did not always fill Puccini’s radiant lyrical lines. But her portrayal of this tragic heroine was deeply affecting and she brought impassioned fervor to Manon’s death scene in the wilderness of Louisiana.
In a role once championed by Bjoerling, Tucker, Domingo, and Carreras, Hugh Smith unleashed a large tenor voice that tended to strain at high notes. He sang at an over hyped, unrelenting forte. Smith cut a decidedly unromantic figure as Des Grieux. When the music and drama turned tragic, he was not wanting for intense declamation.
David Kempster cut an oily figure as Lescaut, not aided by a rather ordinary baritone voice. As Geronte, the superb character bass Donato di Stefano brought a modicum of dignity to a role often played in buffoonish fashion. Joseph Michael Muir was merely adequate as Edmondo, a role that can be a scene stealer. Douglas Perry commanded the stage in a cameo as the Dancing Master.
This Manon Lescaut was far more than the sum of its components. Thanks to Cavallaro’s inspired conducting and Valayre’s intense vocalism, the production was deeply moving – a tribute to the youthful genius of Puccini.
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