The Canadian Opera Company launched its spring season with Don Pasquale, the company’s first presentation of Donizetti’s cynical comedy in 30 years. The production also marks a belated company debut for Canadian designer/director duo Barbe & Doucet whose very active European careers include Glyndebourne’s latest staging of The Magic Flute. Their 1960s Italian fotoromanzo-inspired conception originated at Scottish Opera in 2014 with subsequent remounts at Florida Grand Opera in 2016 and most recently, Vancouver Opera this winter. While their Dolce Vita aesthetic has its charm, it leaves little room for the work’s intrinsic pathos and darker undertones.
The overture is illustrated with an amusing black and white photo montage that establishes basic character relationships as well as Barbe & Doucet’s own conceptual flair. As it turns out, Don Pasquale loves cats, but in a tragic turn of fate, is fatally allergic to felines. His allergist, Dr Malatesta, is foiled in his efforts to cure his patient who ends up hoarding cat-related chachkas as substitutes for any real furry friends. As the scrim rises, we see Don Pasquale in his rundown pensione, surrounded by all manner of cheap cat figurines, attended to by a chain smoking chambermaid, a rotund cook and an ancient porter. Pasquale's nephew Ernesto helps him run the joint into which unsuspecting tourists wander to and fro.
The staging’s time shift to 1960s Italy falls into that category of ‘updating’ that is unlikely to offend, respecting as it does the libretto’s original character relationships and social hierarchies. So, once Norina is successfully married to the much-older Don Pasquale, her outfit changes from pre-wedding cat ears and fluffy-furred cuteness to predatory leopard skin and dark sunglasses thus telegraphing her new big spender, vaguely abusive persona. Act 3’s opening slo-mo tableau features hilarious cameos including the past-it chambermaid (actress Colleen Winton) taking long drags on a cigarette as she files her nails, luxuriating in her household’s new ‘all-is-more’ regime.
All of these visuals are in keeping with the comic, buffo element of Donizetti’s score with its preponderance of quick patter and sprightly duets. However, part of the work’s enduring appeal relates to a less one-sided, comic treatment of the aging roué. Norina’s vicious slap of Don Pasquale in their Act 3 duet is immediately reflected by a melancholy turn in the score to accompany the old man’s pathetic self-realisation, “E finita, Don Pasquale!” Somehow amidst all the Technicolor, 60s op-art glamour of the staging, this moment fails to register, robbing the performance of an optimal comic/tragic balance.