The summer program includes the world premiere of ‘The Righteous’ along with four classics—‘Der Rosenkavalier,’ ‘La Traviata,’ ‘Don Giovanni’ and ‘The Elixir of Love’—brought closer to the present.
By
Heidi Waleson
Aug. 5, 2024 at 6:15 pm ET
Michael Mayes and the Santa Fe Opera ensemble
PHOTO: CURTIS BROWN
Santa Fe, N.M.
“The Righteous,” having its world premiere at the Santa Fe Opera this summer, is the second collaboration of composer Gregory Spears and librettist Tracy K. Smith. Like their first, “Castor and Patience,” it is based on an original story with a complex, contemporary theme and a lot of potential. Set in the American Southwest between 1979 and 1990, it concerns a preacher, David (Michael Mayes), whose religious calling is tainted by his ambition and other personal flaws. However, like the earlier work, the opera is ensnared in a wordy and overly complicated libretto, with too many scenes and dramatic climaxes, especially in the second act, as well as numerous stretches of unoperatic exposition.
In a plot that covers races for governor and the expansion of David’s church against the backdrop of the Iran hostage crisis, AIDS and the crack epidemic, David’s actions and motives are questioned by three people who love him: Michele, his first wife (Jennifer Johnson Cano); Sheila, a parishioner with whom he has an affair and then marries (Elena Villalón); and Jonathan, Michele’s gay brother, who is also David’s longtime friend and would-be lover (Anthony Roth Costanzo). Their arias—though invariably too long—are the best moments in the opera, delving into their hearts with poetry and lyricism. But David is a cipher, and since Mr. Mayes, singing with a blaring, unsubtle baritone, doesn’t read as a handsome, charismatic young preacher, it is hard to understand their attraction to and belief in him. It’s a relief when they all break free at the end. Even though in the final aria (with chorus) David declares that “Life is long, and wisdom slow,” it’s not clear that he understands how his inability to love, as a Christian or a human, has been his downfall even as he has risen in the world.
Ms. Cano, Ms. Villalón and Mr. Costanzo were all riveting, as was Nicholas Newton as Jacob, a black preacher who shows up in Act 2 as one of several more antagonists. Greer Grimsley was properly arrogant as Paul, David’s oil baron father-in-law. Conductor Jordan de Souza sometimes overpowered the singers; the pulsating minimalism of the orchestral music is punctuated by catchy repeated motifs, brass fanfares, and dissonances with the vocal line at moments of tension.
Director Kevin Newbury capably negotiated the many scenes and time shifts, aided by Japhy Weideman’s lighting. Mimi Lien’s set, with side pillars and sliding back panels of pale wood, suggested the Southwestern landscape and made good use of the Jemez Mountains vista out the back of the open-air theater. Period furniture, with TVs showing projection designer Greg Emetaz’s footage of Ayatollah Khomeini and Ronald Reagan, as well as Elizabeth Taylor with AIDS patients, and costume designer Devario Simmons’s loving re-creation of the clothes and big hair of the 1980s placed the show firmly in context.
Rachel Willis-Sørensen and Paula Murrihy
PHOTO: CURTIS BROWN
Of the other four operas of the season, all lightly updated, only Richard Strauss’s “Der Rosenkavalier” had everything one might desire. Bruno Ravella’s thoughtful production struck a perfect balance of comedy and poignancy with nothing extraneous; under conductor Karina Canellakis, the orchestra had Viennese lilt and richness. In Gary McCann’s ingenious set, rococo decorative motifs connected the three acts: The Marschallin’s downstage bedroom was expanded to become Faninal’s sparkling, nouveau riche salon; for the third act, the seedy inn room was constructed inside the salon. Mr. McCann’s striking 20th-century costumes and Malcolm Rippeth’s lighting kept the attention on the characters and their moments of revelation. Even the chaotic scenes stayed focused: In the Act 3 trick on Baron Ochs, half a dozen pregnant women in clownish makeup popped out of trap doors and windows to accuse him of lechery.
With her opulent soprano, Rachel Willis-Sørensen was an eloquent Marschallin, conveying dignity and vulnerability. Paula Murrihy was a playful Octavian, growing from adolescence to maturity over the course of the evening. Ying Fang’s pure soprano gave Sophie a will of steel. Matthew Rose was a transcendent Baron Ochs, buffoonish but believable, even in a red plaid suit and bright red wig. Notable cameos included Zachary Nelson as Faninal, Megan Marino as Annina and David Portillo as the Italian Singer.
Louisa Muller’s updating of Verdi’s “La Traviata” to the 1930s was mostly in the costumes—Violetta’s slinky evening dresses and her snappy white trousers and bolero jacket for the country. Designer Christopher Oram’s revolving set still looked pretty much like the original Belle Epoque setting, and the change of era didn’t suggest any new insights. The draw here was Mané Galoyan, who brought a touching fragility to Violetta, especially memorable in her devastating “Addio del passato,” and the stylish Verdi conducting of Corrado Rovaris. Bekhzod Davronov was a callow Alfredo; Alfredo Daza, a sturdy Germont.
Inspired by a parallel with Oscar Wilde’s “The Picture of Dorian Gray,” director Stephen Barlow relocated Mozart’s “Don Giovanni” to 1880s London. Designer Yannis Thavoris’s clever set featured two central black walls that opened and closed like book pages to reveal different settings—such as a hotel lobby and Don Giovanni’s salon, hung with 17 versions of his portrait—which neatly accomplished the opera’s many scene changes. The sumptuous Victorian costumes and Christopher Akerlind’s gloomy lighting completed the look. There were interesting directing touches—as when Don Ottavio (Mr. Portillo) offered Donna Anna (Ms. Willis-Sørensen) a sedative during her explosive “Or sai chi l’onore”—but neither the production nor Harry Bicket’s conducting captured the full creepy menace of the opera.
Ryan Speedo Green was a suave but not very dangerous Don Giovanni; Rachael Wilson shone as a frantic Donna Elvira, played for laughs but still affecting; Mr. Newton was a serviceable Leporello; Soloman Howard, an imposing Commendatore. Liv Redpath and William Guanbo Su were nicely matched as Zerlina and Masetto.
Cadie J. Bryan and Yaritza Véliz in ‘The Elixir of Love.’
PHOTO: CURTIS BROWN
The sprightly Stephen Lawless production of Donizetti’s “The Elixir of Love,”originally staged here in 2009, is set in an Italian village just after World War II; Ashley Martin-Davis’s set features a large billboard advertising the local olive oil, and Nemorino (a sincere Jonah Hoskins) is a car mechanic, working on a red roadster. Adina (Yaritza Véliz, her soprano a little heavy for the role) works an Italian movie-siren look and teases Nemorino; Sergeant Belcore (Luke Sutliff) heads a squad of American soldiers, which fits with his self-importance but makes Nemorino’s enlistment questionable. The standout singer was Mr. Daza, better as the fast-talking shyster Dulcamara, on the run from the law, than as the earnest paterfamilias in “Traviata.” Cadie J. Bryan had some scene-stealing moments as Giannetta. Roberto Kalb’s conducting could have been more buoyant, but the hardworking Santa Fe Opera chorus, led by Susanne Sheston, was excellent, as it was throughout the week.
Ms. Waleson writes on opera for the Journal and is the author of “Mad Scenes and Exit Arias: The Death of the New York City Opera and the Future of Opera in America” (Metropolitan).
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