“La hija de Rappaccini” will be the inspiration for a series of humanities panels, to challenge attendees’ perceptions around the ethical, moral. In a Gotham Opera production of ‘La Hija de Rappaccini’ at Greystone Mansion, much of what makes Daniel CatÃ¡n’s work remarkable comes. But there it was, Saturday night at the Civic Theatre: the American premiere of “La Hija de Rappaccini,” a.k.a. “Rappaccini’s Daughter,” by.
|Published (Last):||20 November 2015|
|PDF File Size:||13.39 Mb|
|ePub File Size:||12.47 Mb|
|Price:||Free* [*Free Regsitration Required]|
San Pa isn’t reputed to harbor the world’s most progressive opera company, or, for that matter, the world’s most adventurous audience. But there it was, Saturday night at the Civic Theatre: The event was billed as “the first fully-professional production of an opera by a Mexican composer to be staged in the United States.
But a lot of memory and file searching, not to mention head-scratching, produced no contradictory evidence. Rapaccii barrier broken at last.
Under the circumstances, it would be nice to hail “La Hija de Rappaccini” as a masterpiece. Rapaccinj, alas, would stretch generosity a bit beyond veracity. Still, in the quirky and irrational world of opera, one has to be grateful for small favors, and Catan’s opera is just that. It may not abound in passionate revelation or lofty inspiration, but it is a serious, often compelling piece–intelligently crafted and sensitively staged.
It speaks a sophisticated musical language with elegance. And, encountered 24 hours after “Die Walkure” in Orange County, it also seems blessedly concise–lasting only two hours, including the intermission.
The opera was first performed, with some of the same forces in a different staging apparatus, at the Teatro del Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City three years ago. Significantly, perhaps, the myopic musical Establishment north of the border paid no attention. Catan, born in and a student of Milton Babbitt at Princeton, does some deep thinking in his first opera. Juan Tovar’s poetic libretto is based on a play by the Nobel-Prize laureate Octavio Paz, whose source in turn was a story by Nathaniel Hawthorne.
The plot concerns a presumably demented Italian botanist, Dr.
Review: ‘La Hija de Rappaccini’s’ passionate exoticism
Rappaccini, who cultivates exquisite flowers that happen to be poisonous. His creative empire blurs the lines that are supposed to separate good and evil, not to mention life and death.
The central focus–and central victim–is the doctor’s innocent daughter, Beatriz, whose blood bears a fatal gift. There is plenty of room here for rumination. On one level, the opera can be regarded as just a tall twice-told tale.
Remember the melodramatic Vincent Price movie of ? On other levels, the opera demands to be examined as a dark and complex symbolist fantasy. The dominant metaphor in the work is Rappaccini’s exotic garden.
The composer makes it shimmer and rapaccnii and throb and rustle with orchestral impulses rooted in Debussy and Ravel. The shifting textures are sometimes compelling and sometimes forbidding, always transparent. They support the vocal lines effectively, but never–repeat, never–overpower the singers.
The vocal lines, unfortunately, aren’t exactly fascinating. The characters converse, most of the time, in a rather dde sing-song. There is more parlando here than is par for so colorful a narrative course. The doomed heroine does get to float some otherworldly pianissimo tones, and her suitor, the medical student next door, does get to flex a few ardent tenoral muscles.
Most of the time, however, the disparate characters all sound pretty much the same as they gasp and sputter in the lush symphonic garden. The listener waits in vain for the melodic expansion implied by Catan’s idiom, longs in vain for the ultimate cathartic gesture.
The hika is beautifully crafted and tastefully restrained, to be sure. It may just be too polite for its own theatrical good. The imaginative San Diego production, assembled by Ian D. Campbell, certainly accentuated the positive. Contrary to cautious tradition, modernism can be alive and well at the San Diego Opera. Johnathon Pape directed the drama with a knowing eye for abstraction, moving the action with swift, economic strokes from reality to dream to nightmare.
John Conklin designed a strikingly spare set that frames the conflicts in an expressionist realm defined by cool neon accents, dapaccini raked at distorted angles and raapccini endless array of rapacvini flower-cutouts that drop from the sky and float across the stage invoking the mysterious sensuality of Georgia O’Keeffe.
Mimi Jordan Sherin oversaw the fluid lighting scheme. Barbara Bush created the simple, stylish costumes.
Rappaccini’s Daughter (opera) – Wikipedia
The cast, uniformly strong and obviously dedicated, respected the wonted intimacy of expression. Soprano Encarnacion Vazquez projected the rapacini toxic purity with physical pathos and vocal radiance. Fernando de la Mora looked properly befuddled as the hero who would save her and thus kills her, and he exuded bel-canto lyricism. Catan’s Padua proved more congenial for the tenor than Verdi’s Mantua, which he explored here last month.
Venturing a Mexican Fantasy. Catan’s score certainly avoids the easy lurid road. Obviously, he’d rather be subtle than crass.
Seizure Led to FloJo’s Death. His scores make his case. Copyright Los Angeles Times.