Rossini’s “La Cenerentola” (aka “Cinderella”) contains some of the wittiest music ever written. There’s humor in the age-old plot and in the words and wordplay themselves, but that humor is rather mild. The real fun of “Cenerentola” is in the notes. Rossini knows it. The characters know it. Los Angeles Opera’s clever production, seen Thursday at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, knows it.
It is easy to overdo the slapstick antics in a Rossini comedy, but director Joan Font and his confreres illustrate it nicely. The costumes, by Joan Guillén, set the tone, comic-book colorful and off-kilter in design. Cinderella’s evil stepsisters are a fright in their primary yellow and bubble gum pink wigs. A troupe of interpolated mice with funny masks, bulbous bodies and long tails are Cinderella’s constant friends and serve as mute observers, stagehands and participants in the opera throughout.
Cinderella and her prince charming, Don Ramiro, are straight characters in Rossini’s concept, and in Font’s as well. They sing in a different style from the others, a noble and richly ornamental style that exemplifies the decency within them. Font has them act in a like manner.
As for the others, the music seems to control them. Rossini’s bubbling rhythms send them into little dance routines that they can’t help themselves doing. Even the chorus of courtiers can’t fight the spirit; the dance numbers of Mel Brooks come to mind. When Rossini gives these characters floridly decorated lines, they puff themselves up as if to be worthy of them, but they are not. When Rossini gives them rapid-fire notes – patter – they can barely keep up with their own ridiculous and manic feelings.
What is a Rossini Crescendo (a unique creation, sometimes also known as a Rossini Rocket) but the giddy expression of the wonderful absurdity of life? “La Cenerentola” has several fine examples. The composer starts softly with a little motor rhythm perking beneath, repeating, a scrap of a melody in the woodwinds cycling above. The harmonies are simple, toggling back and forth. As he repeats the pattern, he adds instruments, sometimes deliciously on off beats, and each reiteration is a little louder, winding up tighter and tighter while stuck in its groove. Release eventually arrives, but only just in time.
The comedic characters in “Cenerentola” get caught up in these Rossini Crescendos. They are pent up in fury or joy or have a sneaky design and they want to tell us about it. The tension and excitement are ratcheted up as they do, their emotions getting the better of them, sweat appearing on their brows, until the lid gloriously pops off.
Los Angeles Opera has assembled a wonderful cast for these shenanigans. As Cinderella, mezzo-soprano Kate Lindsey wraps a compellingly velvety tone around all her flights and embellishments; you want them to go on and on, to bask in their luxury. She is aptly modest and graceful in the part, too, indicative of her character’s golden spirit. She hit her final exuberant aria, as someone near me put it, “out of the park.” (Ketevan Kemolklidze takes over the role for the final three performances.)
Tenor René Barbera is sensational as Don Ramiro. He negotiates his intricate fioratura with a golden elegance, never forcing, and suddenly pounces on a phrase or high note with an added vibrancy. Bass-baritone Vito Priante, in his U.S. debut, is a delight as Ramiro’s servant Dandini, who gets to impersonate the prince for most of the opera and has a grand time doing it. “You’re overacting,” the prince warns.
As Clorinda and Tisbe, the evil step sisters, Stacey Tappan and Ronnita Nicole Miller preen merrily. Alessandro Corbelli bumbles judiciously as Don Magnifico, their foolish father. Nicola Ulivieri provides a suitably imposing Alidoro, the prince’s tutor and hand on the wheel of the plot. The men of the Los Angeles Opera Chorus dance and sing smartly.
Conductor (and company music director) James Conlon leads the orchestra in irresistibly light and frothy support. Swift, too, with no mercy for his singers, who do manage to keep up. In the program booklet, Conlon tells of his love of bel canto, Rossini and otherwise, and the rare chances he’s had to perform it. He aims to do more. If this “Cenerentola” is any example, we’re in for some good times. One indication: My toes tapping of their own accord.
Contact the writer: 714-796-6811 or tmangan@ocregister.com