World-renowned bass-baritone Ferruccio Furlanetto has described Jules Massenet's Don Quichotte as a “wonderful message of humanity”. Mezzo-soprano Anita Rachvelishvili remarked that the opera's female character, Dulcinée, is looking for “real love, real passion”. Canadian Opera Company General Director Alexander Neef has called the 1910 opera a “parable of life”. All three ideas – humanity, romance, a parable – came together seamlessly under the direction of American Linda Brovsky on Friday evening as Don Quichotte made its Canadian Opera Company debut. Originally commissioned by the Opéra de Monte Carlo and first performed by legendary Russian bass baritone Feodor Chaliapin in the title role, Don Quichotte is based on Jacques Le Lorrain's play Le chevalier de la longue figure, which is, in turn, based on Cervantes' epic novel Don Quixote. Though the opera's enjoyed sporadic productions since its première, it's never enjoyed the popularity of other Massenet works like Werther and Manon, and was last staged at the Metropolitan Opera in 1926.
Nevertheless, the Canadian Opera Company introduced the work to Toronto audiences amidst a flurry of spring premières, including fine recent productions of Handel's Hercules and Donizetti's Roberto Devereux. The current presentation of Don Quichotte (from Seattle Opera) features whimsical designs, including oversized books, giant quills and inkwells, and a rich color scheme that evokes Cervantes' 17th century Spain. The “books”, used with great taste and economy, give a sense of the characters springing to life and, concurrently, offer a meta-dramatical commentary on the nature (and pitfalls) of an active imagination. Brovsky's smart, deceptively simple direction explores the imaginative world of the writer and the audience. Wedged between acts (the opera is five acts in total, though its running time is roughly two and a half hours), the audience is shown onscreen quotes from the novel resembling handwriting on parchment; it's as if we, in effect, are willing what happens onstage, with Quichotte's adventures become part-and-parcel of our imaginings. His longings, ambitions, even moral certitude, reflect our own higher (sometimes over-reaching) aims. There's something awfully ennobling about both the character and the way he's presented here, making the piece eminently watchable and, amidst a silly plot (older man retrieves necklace from scary robbers for a woman who later rejects him), deeply rewarding on creative as well as musical levels.
Smart blocking helps to underscore the marriage of theme and character. Dulcinée, for instance, enters the stage on top of a stack of “books” (as opposed to between the upright ones), climbing down on a makeshift set of wooden stairs. She is literally emerging from the material, but also controlling it, making it her own, as befits her independent spirit. Anita Rachvelishvili, a Georgian mezzo-soprano known for singing the role of Bizet's Carmen worldwide (including notable appearances at the Met and La Scala), here brings an element of the sultry gypsy to her performance, using flamenco dance elements as well as sensuous (if subtle) body language. Her Dulcinée is clearly grappling with being the most popular girl at the party who always goes home alone. Rachvelishvili provides a smart mix of sweet and cruel; her mannerisms shift as she flirts with various men before saying how bored she is with them, and her voice offers a gorgeously bold if equally sensitive reading of Massenet's Spanish-tinged score.