Finding singers skilled enough to sing dramatic roles has been a challenge in certain repertoire for even the biggest opera companies. Turandot, Puccini’s final (and sadly incomplete) opera, is among those on that list. It contains famously treacherous high notes along with long vocal lines for the leading roles, roles that are often famously associated with some of the greatest singers of all time. That Los Angeles Opera brought Turandot back into its repertoire after 22 years since its last performance is notable enough, but with enough vocal power to make it compelling is an achievement itself. Between the vocal performances and the stunningly effective David Hockney designs, the premiere on Saturday was, in many ways, a triumph.
Seen for the first time at LA Opera, Hockney's sets remain remarkably fresh, having been premiered at San Francisco Opera 34 years ago. Hockney's eye for perspective, angle, color and dramatic practicality is still a notable feature of this production. I must admit that this was the first production of Turandot I ever saw (San Diego back in 1997) and it still looks stunning, making me hope for a revival of Hockney’s Wagner works in LA in the near future.
Angela Meade and Russell Thomas, local favorites with impressive international careers, are two of the more ideal singers for the demanding lead roles of Turandot and Calaf and they made this revival an appealing prospect. Meade’s voice at this point lacks focus from when I heard her here as Norma in 2015 and a last-minute sub in Roberto Deveraux in 2020. In her role debut as the icy princess, Meade's powerful voice was thrilling, with intonation and ferocity spot on.
A rising star, Russell Thomas is a forceful singer with an attractive voice. The power of his physical exertion when singing makes one pay attention. He saved his best for the crowd-pleasing “Nessun dorma”, which featured his best legato of the night and his longest sustained high note, but his final note was disappointingly short. Likewise, Meade hit her marks but, along with conductor James Conlon, the three of them did not linger or allow Puccini’s phrases to push and pull. Conlon’s pacing was near breakneck, continually pushing forward. It served the drama in a way, but lacked the satisfying rubato of Puccini’s lines that can make for a truly exceptional musical experience.
The exception to this was Guanqun Yu as Liù. The soprano possess an attractive voice and turned in the most complete and moving performance of the evening. “Tu che di gel sei cinta” in Act 3 was vocally powerful yet dramatically vulnerable and she had the stamina and control to bring out the tragedy and power of Puccini’s lines. Yu’s performance practically stole the show. Ping, Pang and Pong (Ryan Wolfe, Terrence Chin-Loy and Julius Ahn, respectively) were appropriately silly, but not overly so. They turned in a fine ensemble performance. Morris Robinson’s burley bass voice sounded overly covered at points, but his dramatic commitment made for a convincing reading.
Garnett Bruce’s direction is straightforward and effective, a welcome traditional reading of the piece. But there is an element of “park and bark” that is, if not implied in this piece, traditional. Conlon’s orchestra was fierce, but often sounded overbearing in the opera's more transparent sections. The Los Angeles Children’s Chorus sang beautifully, but the LA Opera Chorus were occasionally disconnected and not as dramatically vital as I have seen them before, likely not helped by their more background position in the big palace scenes.
But the beauty and thrill in Puccini’s score was on display in an impressive, satisfying night of theater. If not always ideal, it was a compelling performance of this masterpiece and a tantalizing taste of what opera can be at its best.
