Review: CARMEN at LA Opera

Everything Thaddeus Strassberger purports to be after in his new production of Carmen which recently premiered at LA Opera in a co-production with Houston Grand Opera and Detroit Opera can be intuited as easily from the stage as gleaned from his program note. This is not a reinvention that apologizes for the libretto or attempts to pander to contemporary sensibilities, rather an exploration of the humanity which has maintained the opera’s popularity for over a century. With textured scenography by Strassberger, snappy flamenco-inspired choreography by Antonio Najarro, gritty action sequences by Ran Arthur Braun, and clean, nuanced lighting by Pablo Santiago, Bizet’s score is bolstered in ways that are equal parts cinematic, theatrical, and emotionally resonant.

Domingo Hindoyan has big shoes to fill, taking over the baton from James Conlon who served as LA Opera’s music director for two decades. Standing head and shoulders over Conlon, Hindoyan’s intense focus and precise energy are more visible to the audience from the orchestra pit, and he rises to the occasion with a premiere worthy of the summer-long banner campaign which heralded his arrival along Grand Ave. During the “Habanera”, there is a palpable chemistry shared between Hindoyan and mezzo-soprano Rihab Chaieb.

Wielding a knife and channeling playfulness which undercuts the obvious seductive overtones of the material, Chaieb’s Carmen seems to challenge everything we know about the opera’s tragic namesake. What role does she knowingly play within her own demise? What is it that she is after, and what does she gain when she wields her power over men? Conventional portrayals of the role as a temptress, femme fatale, whore, or cautionary tale melt away with the fourth wall as Chaieb makes clear why she is invited time and again to interpret Carmen. Audiences will find that Chaieb’s performance alone makes the evening memorable, however, Kathleen O’Mara’s Micaëla garners similarly rousing applause. O’Mara’s “Je dis que rien ne m’epouvante”, sung outside of wrought iron cemetery gates elevates Micaëla with a humanity that parallels Chaieb’s and keeps her character alive even as the staging reimagines her in the image of The Madonna. (The Madonna-whore complex already at play in the narrative driven home without overstepping.)

In a glorious production that feels right at home in the home of the movies, Greg Emetaz’ projection design feels superfluous at best— images of smoke layered over the Cigaretters entrance as they sing;

“It's smoke.
Yes it's smoke,
It's smoke.”

The score is complimented by the flap of tobacco leaves, already conjuring the image of smoke, and repeating the images which feel all too much like the distracting screensaver synched with the overture make the production feel cheaper and almost distrustful. At the Bob Baker Marionette Theatre, the overture is usually accompanied by flashing lights to capture the attention of infants in the audience. Does LA Opera think they need to do the same to catch our eye? Later, a projection of a helicopter stirs laughter from the crowd. For the most part, the projections add little and are unobtrusive, but future productions would not suffer to omit them entirely.