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Review: Opera Lafayette’s Potent Triumvirate of Daughter, Lover and Mother

Nathalie Paulin in a scene from “Médée,” part of Opera Lafayette’s “Opera and the French Revolution,” at Jazz at Lincoln Center.Credit...Richard Termine for The New York Times

Few singers get to play a caring daughter, a self-sacrificing lover and a murderous mother in a single evening, as the soprano Nathalie Paulin did on Sunday at the Rose Theater at Jazz at Lincoln Center.

But while the production — called “Opera and the French Revolution” and put on by the Washington ensemble Opera Lafayette — gave Ms. Paulin the opportunity to show off her range, it didn’t otherwise make the most of an intriguing premise. The aim was to juxtapose staged scenes from three works, all on Classical themes, that were popular in France during the Revolutionary era.

Cherubini’s “Médée” receives relatively frequent hearings, thanks to its juicy title role, a vehicle for the likes of Maria Callas. The true curiosities here were Sacchini’s “Oedipe à Colone” and Martini’s “Sapho” — respected, even beloved, in their day but basically unknown in ours.

“Oedipe” offered a hushed chorus and then a canny duet in which Oedipus’ rage meets Antigone’s steadiness, a mixture of vigor and calm. “Sapho” brings a somber aria for the unfaithful Phaon and a tour de force finale for its jilted title character, in which her spoken monologue — relished by Ms. Paulin — is punctuated by sung choral responses and orchestral accompaniment. And the dramatic oomph of the final act of “Médée” almost goes without saying: 200 years later, it’s still a startling depiction of Medea’s shifting emotions as she contemplates killing her children.

Opera Lafayette, which revives French rarities, deserves credit for this latest ambitious project, and under the baton of its artistic director, Ryan Brown, its orchestra plays with sometimes scrappy spirit. But this triptych of works, arranged as a kind of journey from Classical poise to proto-Romantic revolutionary fervor, may have been better served by a concert presentation than by this wanly chic staging, conceived by the Czech director Mirenka Cechova.

It was as much a slowly growing art installation as an evening of theater, complete with suitcases full of sand. Sapho was wheeled in within a transparent box into which buckets of water were poured, and Médée spoke her first lines into a megaphone. It was unclear what all the self-consciously arty symbols signified. And while a couple of the soloists — particularly Ms. Paulin and the bright-voiced soprano Sophie Junker — could hold the stage in these spare surroundings, the chorus (sounding shining) seemed uncomfortable whipping around light bulbs on cords, circus style.

The tenor Antonio Figueroa and the baritone Javier Arrey offered confident portrayals of some of the often agonized male characters in these operas. And while “Médée,” in particular, would have benefited from a soprano with a more commanding tone, Ms. Paulin savored the words, whether spoken or sung.

A version of this article appears in print on  , Section C, Page 2 of the New York edition with the headline: Daughter, Lover, Mother and Soprano. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe

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