HGO's 'Traviata' triumphs by melting away its unique setting

"I chose to pass up being at the stadium tonight with the Astros and Yankees," Mayor Sylvester Turner told the audience at the George R. Brown Convention Center's Exhibit Hall A3 on Friday night. Cheers erupted from the sea of gowns and tuxedoes before him, their sound filling the expansive labyrinth of curtains, temporary walls, makeshift booths and luxury Porta Potties.

Just weeks ago, this building hosted 10,000 needy Houstonians left without a home from the effects of Hurricane Harvey. On the opening performance of Houston Grand Opera's "La Traviata," a portion of this convention center now dubbed Resilience Theater made an equally bold statement about the city's spirit - that the arts, sometimes considered an indulgence in times of crisis, is here to stay.

That's why it's impossible to truly review the opera's production of "La Traviata" without acknowledging what its existence meant for the near-capacity crowd that showed up. Friday night was more than an opening. It was the opera company's big gamble, by relocating to the convention center after Harvey flooded the Wortham Theatre Center, to convince the community to keep their support going strong.

The opera, after all, will likely finish the 2017-18 with a deficit. The company's climb back to financial confidence will be a multi-year ordeal, and "La Traviata" on Friday symbolized the beginning of the post-Harvey marathon. When audiences rode the escalators up to the third floor of the convention hall and saw an expansive improvised lobby, complete with white seats, decorative trees and pasta stations, they witnessed the HGO's first statement: We are still here.

The company knew that opera isn't just a choice of weekend entertainment - it's a lifestyle statement. That's why HGO offered valet service, a free Lyft ride and a $10 parking option in contrast to $40 parking for the Astros game. That's why HGO offered a themed cocktail consisting of crème de violette, gin and Cocchi Americano - the concoction, named after the protagonist in "La Traviata," was light in the mouth and potent on the swallow, but overly saccharine toward the bottom of the glass. And that's why the portable bathrooms were fancier than necessary - even in its humbled circumstance, HGO presented extravagance.

After Turner's speech, Zoie Reams, the mezzo-soprano singing the part of Flora, performed the national anthem. Her voice was muted by the mass of bodies and curtains around her and reached halfway through the auditorium. The question of acoustic quality - perhaps the largest hurdle for the opera's new home - remained when the curtains opened and both the chorus and orchestra, situated behind the stage, sounded quieter than usual.

All those doubts, however, were dashed when Albina Shagimuratova, singing the tragic Parisian courtesan Violetta, performed her first aria. The importance of the role of Violetta is not to be underestimated. Demanding both soaring exclamations of love and soft, fading moments of remorse, both legato runs and percussive notes, Violetta makes or breaks "La Traviata." At HGO, Renee Fleming had a career-defining Violetta in 2003, while Shagimuratova first showcased her prowess with the role in Houston in 2012.

And so Shagimuratova carried the production once again. Using the slanted stage as a natural amplifier, Shagimuratova's voice rose above the audience. She wasn't afraid to alter her sound by pressing against the floor, or against the chest of Dimitri Pittas (who co-stars as Violetta's courter, Alfredo). Doing so angled and often muted her sound, but she did so deliberately to serve the story.

I was impressed that Eun Sun Kim's orchestra, projected forward by way of a curved plastic tarp, never dragged and was never buried by the vocalists in front. The chorus behind her knew to stay with, if slightly behind, the orchestra in terms of timing, so that the instruments' sound could catch up.

Arin Arbus' direction, more respectful than innovative in acts one and three, presented a distinctive Spanish-themed party in act two. In that scene, giant skeletal horses cavort through the stage. How playful.

Yet when Alfredo realizes that Violetta has chosen another man over him - he doesn't know she did so to honor his family - the scene turns darker than expected. Alfredo violently throws cash at her body instead of simply throwing it at her feet. That choice highlighted just how vicious a world it is for a woman like Violetta, who is trapped somewhere between the status of royalty and prostitute.

Shagimuratova expressed her character's perilous societal standing with a blend of vocal, facial and bodily expression. My favorite moment was her subtle rendition of the third-act aria "Addio del passato," in which Violetta, accepting her looming death, bids "farewell, happy dreams of the past."

For the entire night, I had been overly aware I was sitting in a convention hall, my mind focused on judging the success of that experiment. But Violetta's tragic elegy made me forget, if only briefly, where I was. HGO's mission, I realized, wasn't to make audiences enjoy the new venue. It was to make them not think about the space at all. In those rare moments of "La Traviata," Exhibition Hall A3 served its ultimate purpose, and melted away into the background.