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A little more light on the subject

Opera Company's "Turandot'

In
3 minute read
Hong: Why keep him in darkness?
Hong: Why keep him in darkness?
When a show's big hit tune is sung well, it can almost make the whole evening worthwhile.

Such was the case when tenor Francesco Hong, in his American debut, crooned Nessun dorma, surely one of the most familiar of all operatic arias, in the last act of Turandot, the Opera Company of Philadelphia's current production.

Hong is a South Korean with Italian opera house experience. He looks like Italian tenors of yesteryear: short and round-faced. Fortunately, he sounds like the best of that breed. Hong possesses a sweet voice that smoothly rises to ringing high notes. Because of his singing and his pleasant stage manner, it was easy to sympathize with his character, Calaf, who is obsessed with wooing and winning the love of the ice princess who has beheaded all of her previous suitors.

Unfortunately, the stage was in near darkness for Hong's big moment"“ and for too much of the rest of the opera.

Anybody have a spare moon?

True, the scene for "Nessun dorma (None shall sleep)" takes place at night. But right after Hong's aria, three other characters entered— and they were well lit. Surely a spotlight representing the moon could have illuminated Hong during the opera's biggest moment.

Throughout, this production was underlit. It has an impressive set (borrowed from the Dallas Opera) that uses some lovely colors, and they were bathed in a variety of lighting that created exotic effects. But Turandot is a spectacle about imperial China with a fulsome score by Puccini. As such it cries out for bright lights, of which there were few.

The production did boast a few nice directorial touches from the Canadian Renaud Doucet, in his local debut. Instead of having Turandot attack Calaf in the penultimate scene, as is customary, Doucet had his Turandot run to Calaf to kiss him. In Doucet's vision, Calaf has already won Turandot's affection with his verbal wooing.

Also, Turandot has been directed to cover her ears when Calaf tells her his real name. He has said that she can kill him if she discovers his name— and then he gives her the answer, thus throwing himself on her mercy. She signals that she has fallen in love with him and will not execute him.

A too-icy ice princess

The ice princess who melts is portrayed by Francesca Patane, who manages the ice part effectively. Hers was a hollow-sounding voice except when she unleashed laser-like notes above the staff. Patane is attractive, but she failed to give us a Turandot who seemed deserving of Calaf's passion.

Ermonela Jaho is the slave Liu, who kills herself rather than reveal Calaf's name under torture. Jaho has shimmering high notes and a plaintive style that fits this part and would seem to suit many other Puccini roles. Kevin Lanagan was impressively sonorous as Calaf's blind father.

Maurizio Barbacini conducted a brisk performance that lacked the sweep and sensuousness that this opera needs. The best rendition of Turandot took place in this very house, the Academy of Music, when Leopold Stokowski led the forces of the Metropolitan Opera (on tour) in March of 1961. His cast included Birgit Nilsson, Franco Corelli and Leontyne Price, but the orchestra and chorus were the best. Stokowski achieved this, in large part, by instructing his string players to bow differently than one another so there was an unbroken flow of sound that made the orchestra seem twice as large as it was.

What, When, Where

Turandot. Opera by Giacomo Puccini. Directed by Reanud Doucet; Maurizio Barbacini, conductor. Opera Company of Philadelphia production through March 6, 2009 at Academy of Music, Broad and Locust Sts. (215) 893-1018 or www.operaphila.org.

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