'Carmen' at the Met
Olivia Giovetti - Time out New York
January 6, 2010

As the final notes of the Met’s new staging of Bizet’s Carmen rang out in the full swell of an orchestra that had run the musical equivalent of a marathon under the thrilling direction of Yannick Nézet-Séguin, director Richard Eyre pulled the focus from Don José cradling the lifeless body of his lover to a tableau of matador Escamillo defeating yet another bull. The metaphor was apt, though it fell somewhat short: If anyone is the bullfighter in the relationship between opera’s famous femme fatale and her obsessive brigadier, it’s Carmen herself.

That said, Eyre’s buildup to that moment is one of the most thrilling operatic deaths we’ve seen. Though Carmen is categorized as an opera comique, there is very little comedy in this version of Seville, where women are less sirens and more middle-management: seducing the townsmen, but at the mercy of the male bandits. In the latest new production of the Met’s current hit-and-miss season, this Carmen is a white-knuckled, edge-of-your-seat, nail-biting ride. And in the murder of the title character, there’s payoff in spades.

Latvian mezzo Elina Garanca, who replaced Angela Gheorghiu for the opera’s initial run, put her icy stage presence to good use in this character, though she seemed stiff in comparison to some of her costars. Comparatively, Roberto Alagna extended his entire body in order to create an organic flow as Don José. Though there was the occasional vocal blemish, most of it could easily be attributed to cold-and-flu season and was more than made up for in pathos that practically poured out of Alagna’s eyes. By the final scene, his voice was running on all cylinders as he slunk, skulked, straddled and stabbed.

Barbara Frittoli made Micaëla, a role often pummeled into naïveté, a woman to root for. Rounding out the love quadrangle, Mariusz Kwiecien was a solid Escamillo. Giving this massive wattage of star power a run for its money were the performers in three secondary roles: former fullback Keith Miller as Zuniga, Elizabeth Caballero as Frasquita and Sandra Piques-Eddy as Mercédès. And it was interesting to see Christopher Wheeldon’s choreography for the first act prelude and third act intermezzo mirrored later on by Garanca and Alagna.

Though controversial, Rob Howell’s set was appropriately abstract without dissolving into inscrutability, placing emphasis on the underground and underbelly. Though fine from a distance, the ladies’ costumes (also designed by Howell) had an air of Lisa Kudrow’s character on Friends circa 1994, which means they’ll probably be au courant in a few years. Peter Mumford’s lighting brought a nostalgic quality to the production, enough to make both neophytes and veterans feel at home watching the drama unfold. If this is how the Met ushered in 2010, we have a feeling it’s going to be a good year.