Hubbard Hall Opera Theater

Hubbard Hall, Cambridge, New York, August 15, 16, 21, 23 at 8 PM, August 24 at 2 PM

Richard Giarusso, conductor

Dianna Heldman, director

Cast:

Roza Tulyaganova, soprano- Fiordiligi 

Kara Cornell, mezzo-soprano - Dorabella 

Alix Jones, soprano - Despina 

Ivan Amaro, bass-baritone - Don Alfonso 

Brian Tanner, tenor - Ferrando 

Richard Mazzaferro, baritone - Guglielmo 

And action was plentiful in Heldman’s production. Entering the space from four directions, sometimes running—or, better, bounding, Ferrando and Guglielmo always had ample scope for their youthful good humor, tempered only by the passing heartbreak occasioned by their plot. There is more callowness than idealism in their trust in their beloveds. Ms. Heldman is not overly kind to Fiordiligi and Dorabella. Not yet women, they are spoiled, immature, and cruel, when it suits their whims. Dorabella’s brutal treatment of Despina, as she emotes over Ferrando’s departure, was almost shocking. (This is not just Mozart had plenty of reason to feel sympathy for servants.) If they were not such beauties, one might question the young men’s taste. They also behave like real sisters—a first in Così productions, to my knowledge—with Fiordiligi disdainfully correcting Dorabella’s impulses as only a true sister can. The elaborate business with the large drawings the girls were making of their lovers was priceless, with its mess of ripped paper for Despina to pick up. The entirely cast showed themselves to be imaginative and energetic actors, and there were too many witty psychological points and hearty sight gags to enumerate here. This combination seemed just right for the audience, which seemed to consist mostly of locals. (Cambridge has more than the usual concentration of intellectuals and artists.) By the time the Act I was half over most of them were wearing the sort of contented, amused smiles that are a sure indicator that a show is going over very well indeed.

The costumes, which established a period of around 1900, betrayed the production’s limited budget somewhat, but the young couples wore them with flair and looked terrific. Don Alfonso in his black suit, spats, and bowler inevitably reminded me of the protagonist of one of Italo Svevo’s novels—but perhaps that’s not totally off course.

Musically, the performance had its rough moments, but the taste and enthusiasm of Richard Giarusso and his singers and musicians easily put those in the shade. Giarusso earned a stellar reputation in the northern Berkshires not only for his musicianship as both a conductor and a baritone, but for his ability to assemble an orchestra from local talent and to inspire them to produce their best. Some of his old Williamstown connections appeared in the small, but robust group in Hubbard Hall. (Timpani and chorus were omitted, by the way.) He felt able to adopt at times daringly broad tempi, which can expose whatever problems beset singers or orchestral players, but, as in the trio, “Soave sia il vento...,” it always worked. 

The cast consisted mostly of young New York-based professional singers, who acquitted themselves splendidly on the whole. Each member of the cast (with the possible exception of Roza Tulyaganova, who sang with the highest professionalism and security throughout) suffered a few disasters along with some glorious moments when tone, phrasing, and language all worked to perfection, and as I mentioned, they were all fine actors with a clear conception of their characters. There was considerable variation in the size of the singers’ voices, with Roza Tulyaganova and Kara Cornell easily able to fill a much larger hall, and Brian Tanner, Richard Mazzaferro, and Alix Jones considerably smaller. Ivan Amaro, who sang Don Alfonso, showed an elegant sense of melodic line and an attractive lyrical voice with a rich bottom, sparkling highlights and a tight, discreet vibrato, which reminded me of one of my operatic heroes, Tito Gobbi. His “Tutti accuson le donne” was especially fine, sung with conviction at an unusually urgent tempo. Brian Tanner (Ferrando) a doctoral candidate at the University of Michigan has an attractive, light lyric tenor voice and exceptional charm as a singer and an actor. Richard Mazzaferro (Guglielmo), a local singer, showed similar charm, a glowing baritone, and an elegant sense of line.

Alix Jones, who is also production manager and founder of HHOT, has a naturally intimate coloratura, which she manages to fine effect. Her phrasing is especially musicianly. She had a well-defined concept of Despina and her situation and acted it all out with a fine sense of comedy. Kara Cornell, who teaches voice in Albany, brought a rich, generous mezzo-soprano voice to her Dorabella. Not only did she sing and act her character with imagination and flair, she achieved some truly impressive moments, not the least of which was her “Smanie implacabili” in Act I, which she sang with security, style, and a fine sense of Dorabella’s extravagance. Roza Tulyaganova, a native of Uzbekistan, was a splendid Fiordiligi, giving just the right edge of severity and hypocrisy to her character’s stubborn virtue. An experienced and impeccably trained singer, her pure, limpid soprano was a joy to hear throughout. She showed impressive intelligence and taste in her phrasing and characterization. Especially beautiful was the effortless and elegant way she turned ornaments and cadences. She had her own triumph in her “Come scoglio,” which was grand, elegant, and beautiful.

One of the reasons for the success of this production was the deep understanding of singing which informed every bar. Both Dianne Heldman and Richard Giarusso are singers themselves. In addition, it began and ended with a clearly understood and imaginatively executed sense of theater, character, and comedy—all perfectly tailored to its intimate and unusual space, which accommodates no more than 150 people. We were always in close contact with the singers, who could, depending on their positions, be five to fifty feet away in this plastic three-dimensional staging. (The same sense of theater prevailed in the radically different, but also brilliantly successful production by Ira Siff at Tanglewood last year.) At Hubbard Hall there was not only a fully realized interpretation, but total accessibility as well. This Così truly reached out to the members of its audience and touched them directly. The production was not only brilliantly imaginative in itself, but a significant gesture on a larger plane. It put into practice the ideal that opera is not the exclusive property of the major opera houses, where opera-going is a formal and expensive ritual. With the arrival of HD broadcasts (and their immediate popularity) and small local companies like Hubbard Hall, the experience of opera is changing, and this will be a great revitalizing force in the art.

Beside all this, the Hubbard Hall group are an extraordinarily well-educated lot. Richard Giarusso is a Samuel Johnson scholar; Ivan Amaro is a pre-columbian archaeologist; and at what other opening night party can one chat with the baritone about Leopardi, Foscolo, and fine bourbon, as I did with Mr. Mazzaferro?