Seattle Opera’s extraordinary production made Handel’s Alcina into a complicated and sexy dark comedy. The characters’ tormented relationship drama fitted perfectly into an island setting that was part myth, part resort. Conducted by Christine Brandes and directed by Tim Albery, this Alcina’s cast was small but stunning, allowing each of its six members to shine. Thoughtful cuts, an extremely skillful orchestra and active, inventive staging made this production engrossing and highly watchable.
Christine Brandes led the orchestra to extreme heights of performance; keeping intricate baroque ornamentation and athletic runs perfectly together is no easy feat. Throughout the performance, Brandes joined orchestra and vocalists together in mesmerizing unity. The few instances of slight ensemble separation were exceptions to a rule of near perfection, and overall the ensemble accomplished an incredible musical feat.
Particularly impressive moments included the delightful horn duet and the haunting cello solo accompanying Alcina in “Credete al mio dolore.” John Lenti’s exceptional theorbo and baroque guitar work deserves special recognition: the theorbo’s thrilling low notes perfectly punctuated several dramatic moments with echoing resonance. In the intermission, he took the time to discuss his uncommon instrument with curious audience members.
Vanessa Goikoetxea’s Alcina was complicated, sympathetic, and dark. Her voice expanded beautifully to drag out moments of suspense, lingering deliciously on non-chord tones before resolution. Her clear sound didn’t falter even as Ruggiero lifted her swiftly from a chair. Ginger Costa-Jackson similarly performed difficult physical acting moments while maintaining a strong sound, and made a confident, somewhat tempestuous Bradamante. Her rich, throaty contralto contrasted beautifully with her love interest’s higher voices. Both Morgana’s ringing soprano and Ruggiero’s fluttering countertenor were delightfully grounded by Costa-Jackson’s beautiful darker timbre.
Randall Scotting played Ruggiero as a splendid himbo, sporting beachy waves and an open shirt. His clear, warbling countertenor and playful acting made him a believable victim of enchantment. The bass role of Melisso was changed in this production and given to mezzo-soprano Nina Yoshida Nelsen, transposing her aria up an octave. Although I don’t particularly appreciate this change (I agree with Handel that this opera needs a bass), Yoshida Nelsen gave an admirable and engaging performance, floating beautifully above the dark orchestration of Melissa’s aria.
John Marzano played the spurned lover Oronte as a somewhat hapless figure, and his flexible tenor lent the downtrodden character earnest charm. Sharleen Joynt created a captivating Morgana, at times giddy and willful like a schoolgirl, then instantly downcast as she managed her volatile sister. Her energetic “Tornami a Vagheggiar” in particular was a stunner aria. Joynt’s ringing soprano was fantastically clear and agile, never faltering as she easily scaled both baroque runs and chairs.
The production was well served by thoughtful but not unusual cuts, leaving out the boy soprano role of Oberto and some instrumental music originally intended for ballet. This choice pared the performance down neatly to a little over two hours and tightened the focus to the tangled relationships of the adults. The simple set, made up only of green chairs, a large bear rug and a projected tropical island backdrop, was sparse enough to similarly allow the character and performance choices to shine.
Setting a darkly comedic and sexual tone for the show, Alcina flirtatiously led her toyboy Ruggiero around the stage by a tie looped around his neck. Tim Albery’s stage direction was inventive and constantly changing, which is not an easy feat in an opera full of da capo arias. Every scene was layered to depict a group of powerful yet petulant and immature adults caught up in relationship drama fit for a reality dating show or The White Lotus, creating an atmosphere that shifted constantly between tense, playful, and sexually charged.
Many moments in the show were similarly mutable. Alcina’s despairing transformation into a wild beast takes place as she wrapped herself in her large bear rug, leaving it to our interpretation whether her transformation is literal and physical or a manifestation of her crumbling psyche. The true nature of Morgana and Bradamante’s relationship, too, is left undefined: when they parted for the final time, their lingering embrace seemed to contain something deeper than passing fancy and deception. These ambiguities added interest to the performance and created nuance for a modern audience.
The imaginative staging created many open-ended moments, allowing for an interesting exploration into the interiority of the small cast of characters as we follow their complex interactions. This space to breathe only improved the experience, and this was a stellar production overall. This is a production so good and interesting that it could easily be viewed and enjoyed multiple times. Captivating, sexy, and sometimes weird, Seattle Opera’s Alcina was a delectable treat full of excellent music.
