Love Potion No. 9?
Donizetti is considered a relatively minor composer when compared to such giants of Italian opera as Rossini, Verdi, and Puccini, yet, surprisingly, he has left some 75 operas of which two have become immensely popular, namely Lucia di Lammermoor and L’elisir d’amore (The Elixir of Love). With its humorous plot and happy ending, it’s no wonder that the San Francisco Opera has chosen “Elixir” as this season’s family-friendly production, with several educational matinees aiming to introduce children to opera.
The most striking feature of the production was a kind of cultural “grafting,” infusing this very Italian opera with a very American feel. The centerpiece of the brightly-lit set was a pavilion structure or gazebo with prominent colonial elements, such as one might find on a public square in a small town in, say, Napa Valley circa 1915. A Model-T Ford ice cream truck parked to the side of the stage, and the stars and stripes adorning the pavilion’s eaves set the scene squarely in Anytown, USA. This highly original twist to Donizetti’s opera was conceived and designed by director James Robinson.
The opera is about a humble young man named Nemorino, who is infatuated with the sophisticated Adina. When the charming Sergeant Belcore visits the town to find new army recruits, Nemorino fears that Adina will marry the officer. So he drinks a red potion tasting very much like Chianti, which is sold to him by a traveling “doctor” named Dulcamara, who claims the concoction will make any man who drinks it irresistible to women.
Unbeknown to Nemorino, Adina already likes him, but accepts Belcore’s marriage proposal hoping to make Nemorino jealous. Nemorino, now overly self-confident since drinking the elixir, becomes rather cold and indifferent to Adina. The plot thickens when Nemorino’s rich uncle dies and leaves him a fortune, and everyone in town knows about it but him. Not realizing he is a rich man, Nemorino finds himself being pursued by all the women in town, which further convinces him of the potion’s potency.
Of course, there is a timely turn of events just before the end, and Nemorino and Adina declare their undying love for each other and live happily ever after. Even then, Nemorino secretly believes he owes his success in love to Dulcamara’s potion. Of course, by now everyone in the audience, including the children, have discovered the potion was no more than cheap wine.
Albanian soprano Inva Mula was brilliant as Adina. The parts of Belcore and Dulcamara were sung with amazing charisma and skill by Giorgio Caoduro and Alessandro Corbelli, both Italian baritones. The orchestra displayed an impressively broad dynamic range under the baton of seasoned Italian opera conductor Bruno Campanella, while never overpowering the singers. This opera also featured a large chorus as the townspeople, once again directed brilliantly by Ian Robertson.
However, the incontestable star of this production was Mexican tenor Ramón Vargas, who immediately captivated the hearts as Nemorino’s voice. The audience completely froze into a state of awe during the aria “Une furtiva lacrima,” which Vargas sang with incredible depth and emotion. Incidentally, this aria is arguably the single most memorable tune in all of Donizetti’s 75 operas.
An Epic Tale of Russian Proportions
Modest Moussorgsky’s only completed opera is based on the controversies surrounding the six-year reign of Boris Godunov, the Tatar tsar of Russia at the turn of the 17th century. Although inspired by the dramatic work of playwright Aleksandr Pushkin, the text and the music were both written by Moussorgsky, which must have represented a monumental task given the composer’s two prior stabs at opera writing, both left unfinished. Boris Godunov—now considered a Russian masterpiece—was met with only a lukewarm reception when it was first performed in St. Petersburg in 1869, being faulted for its lack of a major female role.
The opera opens in a monastery where prayers are being said as Boris Godunov reluctantly ascends to Russia’s vacant throne some years after the brutal murder of ten-year-old prince Dmitry, son and rightful successor of Ivan the Terrible. Meanwhile, in another monastery an old monk named Pimen feels compelled to write a detailed account of his knowledge that Godunov was behind the young prince’s murder.
Pimen shares his secret with Grigory, a young monk who discovers that, if the prince had not been killed in childhood, they would be roughly the same age today. This gives Grigory the idea to escape the monastery and present himself as the prince, claiming to have recovered after being stabbed as a child. Rumors of Grigory’s claim soon reach Boris Godunov, who is stricken with fear that the prince either survived the assassination attempt, or that he has risen from the grave to seek revenge.
Boris Godunov’s guilt-ridden psychosis reaches fever pitch when he is brought face to face with a village simpleton who calls him a “Herod,” the Biblical king known for killing children. In the Russian Orthodox tradition, a seemingly insane but kind person who serves the monks—such as Moussorgsky’s simpleton—is viewed as a god-intoxicated “holy fool” who can communicate with the unseen world. From this encounter, Godunov plunges into a pitiful state of visions and hallucinations leading to his death from fear and remorse, moments after naming his son as his successor to the throne.
Celebrating his 30th anniversary with the San Francisco Opera, American bass Samuel Ramey brought tremendous dimension to the role of Boris Godunov with his richly deep voice and commanding stage presence. Ramey has led a long and distinguished career appearing as innumerable operatic villains as these roles tend to be written for the bass vocal range. Samuel Ramey also holds the unique distinction of being the most recorded bass in the history of opera.
While Russian tenor Vsevolod Grivnov made an exhilarating Grigory, this production also featured another amazingly talented tenor in Andrew Bidlack, a Pennsylvania native, who appeared as the village simpleton. Bidlack debuted with the San Francisco Opera last season in “The Little Prince” and also appeared earlier this season in “Die Tote Stadt.” Judging by his powerful voice, he is expected to sing increasingly more prominent roles in the coming seasons.
Eastern Orthodox icons, with their emblematic gold-leaf halos, were used prominently in various scenes, symbolizing the church as a dominating aspect of Russian culture of the period. While the sets were relatively simple and static, the creative lighting and densely populated chorus with colorful costumes brought freshness to each of the opera’s seven scenes. Russian conductor Vassily Sinaisky led the orchestra while Ian Robertson directed the chorus in a truly inspired performance.
Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the San Francisco Bay Area.
