La Traviata, Opera San Jose, Feb. 16 2012

Almost exactly five years to the day since the previous production of La Traviata, it’s back—not surprising, given that (according to one measure) it’s one of the most popular works in today’s opera world. It was given in four acts, with two intermissions, and a “pause” between acts 3 and 4. The same basic set was used for all four acts: to the right we saw a wooden floor, rising gently from the front of the stage to the back, with a couple of wide steps down to the flat area to the left. At the back, a wall with a large window to the right; on the right side, a wall with three doors.

As the prelude concluded, the lights came up gradually on Violetta gazing at a large (six feet by twelve) portrait of herself, mounted on the wall to the left of the large window. Through the large window, we saw a partially-completed Eiffel Tower, the setting having been moved forward about 40 years from Verdi’s intended date of 1845, and almost 200 years from what the score says: “Paris and its environs, ca. 1700.” The left side of the stage was furnished with only a large round ottoman on which several people could sit. When the prelude was over and the party music began, the guests burst through all three doors, half the chorus telling the other half that they are late.

For the second act, we were moved to the little house in the country. The middle door has been covered over by a large stone fireplace with a gun rack on the audience side. Through the window we saw the shrubbery outside, and where Violetta’s portrait had hung there was now a large rack of dried herbs. On the flat portion of the stage there was a small table and a stool.

In the third act we were at Flora’s mansion, which looked a lot like Violetta’s, except that her portrait was gone and the large window incorporated an entryway. Through the window we could see a completed Eiffel Tower. To the left, a gambling table with chairs. To the right, covering the middle door, a very large poster of a charging bull.

For the fourth and final act, we were returned to Violetta’s mansion. Her portrait had fallen off the wall and was lying against the wall at an angle. On the left was Violetta’s sickbed, and a chair for Annina. The drapes over the window were initially closed, but when Violetta asked Annina to open them, she opened one side, and a very dim light entered. After all, it was winter in Paris, and the libretto said “seven o’clock” (in the morning).

Our cast:
Violetta: Jouvanca Jean Baptiste
Alfredo: Alexander Boyer
Giorgio: Torlef Borsting
Flora: Cathleen Candia
Douphol: Isaiah Musik-Ayala
Gastone: Justin Marsh
D’Obigny: Bradley Kynard
Dr. Grenville: Silas Elash
Annina: Tori Grayum
Conductor: David Rohrbaugh
Stage Director: José Maria Condemi

The orchestra played beautifully throughout; in particular, the overture was worth some goosebumps. It took the singers a while to warm up, though. The first act sounded as though the singers were keeping a lot in reserve for later in the evening. When Alexander Boyer entered at the beginning of act 2 and sang the cavatina “De’ miei bollenti spiriti” and started in on the cabaletta “O mio rimorso!” he sounded greatly improved. Unfortunately, his final high note came out as what could only be described as a croak. We felt so bad for him. Torlef Borsting, as Alfredo’s father Giorgio Germont, sang beautifully when he sang more loudly; his softer passages suffered in comparison. Jouvanca Jean-Baptiste sang Violetta well after the first act, but not outstandingly so. The chorus sang very well. The stage direction was quite fine. In particular, Baron Douphol’s challenge to the duel at the end of act 3 was very clear, although Isaiah Musik-Ayala may have gotten ahead of his cue—he stood there with his card in his upraised hand for what seemed an uncomfortably long time. Overall, an enjoyable evening in the theater; a beta.