If in the trilogy of operas by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Lorenzo da Ponte, “The Marriage of Figaro” represents a serious comedy about the sexual politics of class, and “Don Giovanni” explores the curse of rapacious lust, then “Cosi fan tutte” stands as their gentle sister — a soft breeze of an opera about the sensual, heart-rending vicissitudes of love.
Sensuality is clearly the guiding principle behind the Los Angeles Philharmonic’s new production of “Cosi,” which premiered at the Walt Disney Concert Hall on Friday and will receive more performances this weekend all under the baton of Gustavo Dudamel.
Everything about this production, which represents the third and final installment of the Philharmonic’s Mozart/Da Ponte trilogy, is inspired by the sensual.
From the resounding chords of the overture to the emotionally tinged exuberance of the ensemble finale, this “Cosi” is, by turns, as rich and delicious as double cream, as bubbly as the best Champagne, and as tart as a broken heart.
The direction by Christopher Alden (who also directed the previous two productions) combines grace and gentility with comedic flair. Outbursts of realistic volatile passion are balanced against psychologically inspired abstract choreography. A feel for the sensual is also reflected in the set and costumes — from the gently falling drapery, elegant fabrics and pastel colors of Hussein Chalayan’s contemporary couture costumes to the graceful curvature of the all-white set designed by architects Zaha Hadid and Saffet Kaya Bekiroglu that at times resembles a softly undulating sand dune or the chambers of a massive seashell washed upon a glittering beach.
From its beginning in May 2012, the Philharmonic’s Mozart/Da Ponte project has been an interdisciplinary work in progress exploring what could be done to transform the Walt Disney Concert Hall into the Walt Disney Opera House.
“Don Giovanni” (the first of the three operas to be presented) was designed by the hall’s architect, Frank Gehry. It was an impressive but ultimately awkward creation that placed the orchestra upstage of the singers and incorporated large geometric set pieces that raised havoc with sightlines.
A year later, French architect Jean Nouvel designed a more open set for “The Marriage of Figaro” that placed the orchestra downstage, which allowed Dudamel to have a clear view of the singers, and removed any objects that could obscure the action. It was an impressive creation, visually and musically.
“Cosi fan tutte” represents a brilliant distillation and climactic expression of the lessons learned. And like its predecessors, it features a stellar cast.
The full title that Da Ponte gave his 1790 opera was “Cosi fan tutte ossia La scoula degli amanti” (“Women are all the same or The School of Lovers”). Part commedia comedy, part heart-felt drama, the action transpires from a wager, in which a mature man-of-the-world challenges a pair of head-strong young soldiers to test the fidelity of their intended brides. At first they are outraged by the proposition. But then they accept the bet, anticipating certain riches based on the perfect fidelity of their ladies fair. What transpires, however, is a round robin of disguised identities, manipulated episodes and a case of partner swapping worthy of “The Real Wives of Beverly Hills.”
Rod Gilfry brings a fascinating combination of emotions to the role of Don Alfonso, whose wager sets the plot in motion. A man clearly wounded in the battle of the sexes, he will be pleased to win his wager, but at the same time, is torn by the truth that even “true love” can be proved fallible. Gilfry’s resounding bass-baritone voice and air of superior skepticism provide the emotional anchor of the production.
The two men of Ferrara (Ferrando and Guglielmo), who are convinced to masquerade as a pair of wild-and-crazy Albanians, are sung with macho bravado and genuine sensitivity by tenor Alek Shrader and baritone Philippe Sly. Their transformation from cocks-of-the-walk to chastened lovers is a joy to watch.
Their intendeds, Fiordiligi and Dorabella, are given equal luster by the remarkable Swedish soprano Miah Persson and Romanian mezzo-soprano Roxana Constantinescu. Persson’s steadfast desire to stand by her man, personified in her aria “Come scoglio” (“Like a rock”) makes her gradual crumbling and betrayal even more poignant. Constantinescu is more like one of the characters in TV’s “Girls,” willing to go whichever way the winds of passion blow. Alden even admitted he has been indulging in a marathon of “Girls” watching, and that its spirit seeped found its way into his direction.
The role of the wily Despina, who helps manipulate the action, is sung with charm and a tart edginess by the Welsh mezzo, Rosemary Joshua. She looks fantastic in her Chalayan suits, even if her character could never come close to affording them.
During his tenure, and particularly over the course of the Mozart/Da Ponte cycle, Gustavo Dudamel has infused a new level of elegance and clarity in the LA Philharmonic as a Mozart orchestra. Dudamel’s “Cosi” is a triumph and a delight of the first magnitude.
Jim Farber is a Los Angeles-based freelance writer.
caption info: Craig T. Mathew and Greg Grudt/Mathew Imaging.
