Of the “ABCs” of opera (Aida, Bohème, and Carmen), Bizet’s masterpiece is the one that has made the transition to pop culture ubiquity. Surely even the most oblivious of listeners are able to whistle along to the “Habanera” and “Toreador Song”. Furthermore, the melodramatic story of exoticism, lust and rejection is one of the most popular of operatic tales. What better way to sell opening night of an opera season than bringing in a much-hyped production of Bizet’s classic work? The sold-out audience was enthusiastic, but while this was a safe Carmen, it rarely sizzled.
Emilio Sagi’s set colors were flat, perhaps in an attempt to convey the arid Andalusian climate, but then why was there vast blackness above them? The look was similar to the maligned Zeffirelli Carmen for the Met, but without the detail. Costumes were quite plain, even for the celebrity Escamillo of the second act and his new lover Carmen in the finale. While it wasn’t offensive, it was rather dull. Visually, this production failed to ignite the imagination of a far-off land and time, full of adventure.
Sagi’s production was one of predictability. The vast majority of action was as anyone familiar with the story would have prescribed it and where he did innovate it was often unenlightening at best or puzzling at worst. (A cross-dressing Lillas Pastia shoots Zuniga at the end of the second act as the chorus swells.) Director Trevore Ross’ character interaction was cautious and, just as frustrating, solo arias were blocked with little creativity. Carmen’s “Habanera” was staid; Escamillo’s “Toreador Song” was academic. The use of the clunky accompanied recits certainly didn’t help. The lack of initial chemistry between the gypsy and Don José was apparent. The fatal lust seemed forced thanks to both the staging and the two stars who, at times, seemed to be overly cautious.
Patricia Bardon made for a spiteful, spirited Carmen, but one whose magnetism was questionable. Her characterization was fierce but to the point of bitterness. Her second-act dance for a famished Don José was unimaginative, particularly since the castanets were heard only from the pit. Compounded by a voice that tended to swoop and broaden towards the top of the range and lose substance towards the bottom, Bardon was a passable if un-alluring Carmen.
Her co-star Brandon Jovanovich sang with flashes of brilliance but some inconsistency. He seemed dramatically uneasy in the first act. But he sang a quite satisfactory “Flower Song” capped off by an effortless piano B flat. His vocalism was thrilling above the staff, although a little pressed through the passaggio. It is a voice that is unique, slightly white in color, but undoubtedly powerful. As José morphed into melodramatic jealousy, Jovanovich seemed much more physically absorbed in his role and dramatically involved.