La primera critica en “Opera Today” es demoledora.
El critico (Chris Mullins) se fué casa después del intervalo pues se pasó el primer acto divagando de aburrido.
Domingo (Vidal) sonó bien pero reservado, Antonio Gandia(Javier)volumen modesto y timbre generico, Yali-Marie Williams
(reemplazando a Maria Jose Montiel) con un vibratazo medible en la escala de Richter, y una escenografia en blanco y negro que hubiese sido mejor reemplazarla por una version en concierto.
El nivel mas bajo de la Opera de Los Angeles desde su creacion.

By Mark Swed, Times Staff Writer

When Plácido Domingo was named artistic consultant of Los Angeles Opera in 1984, two years before the company staged its first production, he noted that it might be a good idea to perform zarzuela, Spain’s form of operetta, in a town where Spanish is commonly spoken. Named artistic director designate in 1998, the Spanish tenor and son of zarzuela singers said the time was ripe for you know what. With his title upgraded to general director of the company four years ago, Domingo insisted once and for all that he’d bring zarzuela to L.A.

Sunday night he finally did. He starred in and dominated a long overdue but flawless production of Federico Moreno Torroba’s “Luisa Fernanda.” But even in a community as closely connected to Latin culture as ours, zarzuela requires a bit of selling. The Dorothy Chandler Pavilion looked decently filled but not packed Sunday.
A word to the wise: Order your tickets now while seats remain. After folks find out just how ingratiating this music is, how visually sophisticated the production and how overpowering Domingo’s performance, the pavilion is likely to be mobbed.

Premiered in 1932, “Luisa Fernanda” represents the final days of a 300-year-old tradition. Zarzuela, the Spanish insist, is distinct from other types of operetta. In fact, it is quite close. All forms — be they Parisian, Viennese or what became the Broadway variant — rely on national musical and theatrical sensibilities. All incorporate popular song, dialogue and humor.

Still, there is hardly a second of music in “Luisa Fernanda” not recognizably Spanish. Torroba had a light, lyric touch. The score has its big numbers, which will bring a nostalgic tear of recognition to Spanish opera-goers of a certain generation, but Torroba’s greater accomplishment is the graceful flow of continuous, seemingly effortless and limitless melody and his colorful use of the orchestra.

The plot is interesting. A noble farmer, Vidal, and a soldier-adventurer, Javier, vie for Luisa during the political insurgency against Queen Isabel II in 1868. Vidal fights with the rebels because his rival in love is a monarchist. Once a revolutionary himself, Javier supports the queen because of his flirtation with a duchess.

Vidal ultimately wins Luisa but in the end gives her up when he realizes that she loves Javier. Unlike the typical French or Viennese operetta, this zarzuela leaves us with his heavy heart, not the delight of the happy couple.

Emilio Sagi’s clean and elegant production — which comes by way of Vienna, Madrid and Washington, D.C. — is stylized in black and white. Geometric shapes of light give it an almost Robert Wilson-lite character. The peasants look particularly good dressed in natural fibers. Pepa Ojanguren’s designs for the principals stand out as tasteful updates of traditional Spanish costumes.

Like Domingo’s, Sagi’s zarzuela credentials are generational. His great uncle sang Vidal in the premiere. Presumably Domingo’s grand, nearly melodramatic approach to the role has historical roots. I thought it verged on heavy-handed. But no matter. Domingo sang with maximum passion and acted as if his life depended upon every word, and all of us in the audience simply ate it up.

Certainly no one could possibly have internalized this work more than Domingo, who grew up performing it in his parents’ company and has conducted it, sung the tenor role of Javier and included some of the more famous numbers in his recitals throughout his long career. Now assuming the baritone role of Vidal and well into his 60s, he sounded louder Sunday than anyone else onstage as he continued to beat the longevity odds.

The rest of the cast was sure. Yali-Marie Williams — a last-minute replacement for Maria José Montiel, who had contracted stomach flu — was a more feisty than seductive Luisa. Elena de la Merced proved a Duchess Carolina of considerable charm. Antonio Gandía carried off Javier’s ardor reasonably well. Suzanna Guzmán, Daniel Montenegro and Federico Gallar were all very good in smaller roles as revolutionaries.

The chorus handled Nuria Catejón’s simple choreography with surprising style. Miguel Roa conducted fluidly. Even the amplification for the spoken text was decent, maybe a first for the company.

“Luisa Fernanda,” performed in Spanish, follows “The Merry Widow” and “Porgy and Bess” to end the L.A. Opera season with a kind of informal mini-operetta festival. “Porgy” was smart, but the performance was inconsistent. “Merry Widow,” translated into English, was long and vulgar and insulted its audience.

Let “Luisa Fernanda” be the model for the company when it wants something light. At slightly more than two hours, it never wears out its welcome. Domingo may care about everything that he puts on the Chandler stage, but this time it really shows.

La de Orange County

Operetta, Spanish style
Review: L. A. Opera stages Moreno Torroba’s 1932 zarzuela ‘Luisa Fernanda,’ with Plácido Domingo in a lead role.

» For more on classical music, visit Tim Mangan’s blog
By TIMOTHY MANGAN
The Orange County Register
Basically, an operetta is any excuse for a song or dance. A zarzuela is any excuse for a Spanish song or dance, with a Viennese waltz thrown in if you want. That’s what “Luisa Fernanda” is like, and we have no objection. Los Angeles Opera is currently producing the work (it opened Sunday night at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion), with general director Plácido Domingo in one of the lead roles.

Actually, it seems like the lead role, though obviously not the title character, but that may be just because Domingo’s in it and he rather easily outclasses everyone else onstage here. But then, too, the role does seem inherently more interesting than the other two leads, a rather stock pair of young lovers sung by a soprano (Luisa) and a tenor.

Domingo is an old hand at zarzuela. His parents ran, and sang in, a zarzuela company, and eventually the young Plácido sang in it too. Federico Moreno Torroba’s 1932 “Luisa” is a classic of the genre, we’re told, and the co-production comes to us by way of Madrid’s Teatro Real, with zarzuela specialist Miguel Roa in the pit, so presumably we’re hearing the real thing.

Enter director and set designer Emilio Sagi. His work here, along with that of his costume designer and co-set director, is at once minimalistic and fussy, no small feat. A small model of Madrid sits downstage left, otherwise we might not know where we are. The stage is decorated with matching chairs and a few tables (which are rearranged as need be) and outlined by a series of receding frames, a storybook nowhere land. The back wall is black, but beige squares and rectangles magically open and close before our eyes. I’m not sure why.

The populace is dressed in matching beiges, creams and blacks, all very clean and summery. It’s supposed to be 1868, but I think everyone must have phoned each other in the morning to coordinate their wardrobes. And of course you must have curtains – no, sheer curtains – which various folks draw across stage at various times just because they look fabulous. A duchess appears singing on an angular platform that represents a balcony, and it rolls right across the stage. Clichés are embraced. The revolution is represented by overturned chairs; a bare light bulb hovers above the inaction – tough times.

All of this rather depletes the atmosphere and makes the plot harder to follow than it should be. The music is charming and graceful, though. Moreno Torroba (1891-1982) reveals a ready skill for elegant melody and dance, and his orchestration is at once flavorful and light, spicy but not overdone. If a waltz is required, he can supply one worthy of Lehár.

The plot is a romantic one, involving two young guns (a revolutionary and a royalist) who compete for the hand of Luisa, who is torn, of course. Lightly comedic touches are supplied in the spoken dialogue. It ends perhaps not quite the way you think it will, the intention being to leave the audience with a delicious feeling of sadness. And so it does.

It’s Domingo’s show. The gracefully aging tenor, 66, here takes on the baritone role of Vidal Hernando (the revolutionary), which sits just-so in his voice these days. There are a few high Gs, easily compassed. Domingo proves suave and eminently poised, his voice even and present from top to bottom.

A late substitution for an indisposed María José Montiel, soprano Yali-Marie Williams was solid enough vocally as Luisa but lacked a strong stage presence. Tenor Antonio Gandía supplied a bantamweight Javier but seemed to be working hard at it. Elena de la Merced made a lovely Duchess Carolina, all pearly-toned, and the reliable Suzanna Guzmán was a lively and likable Mariana. Roa drew lilting, diaphanous support from the orchestra.

In all, “Luisa Fernanda” seems slight, but expertly so. It’s an easy night at the opera.

Los Angeles times
Domingo, encontró su papel ideal en “Luisa”
Plácido Domingo y L.A. Opera tienen una baza ganadora en ‘Luisa’
“El resto del reparto fué seguro. Yali-Marie Williams un reemplazo de ultimo momento para Maria José Montiel, que habia contraido gripe estomacal fue una Luisa mas dinamica que seductora . Elena de la Merced provó ser una Duquesa Carolina de considerable atraccion. Antonio Gandía condujo su Javier con razonable ardor. Suzanna Guzmán, Daniel Montenegro y Federico Gallar estubieron todos muy bien en los roles menores de revolucionarios.”

“La Opinión digital”
Hugo Quintana
hugo.quintana@laopinion.com
05 de junio de 2007

Tradición y audacia, ¿cuándo van de la mano? La puesta en escena por la Ópera de Los Ángeles de Luisa Fernanda, una de las más queridas —y representadas— zarzuelas de todos los tiempos es una buena oportunidad para medir esta premisa.

El género musical español, tan popular hasta la primera mitad del 20 en todo el mundo hispanohablante, representa una tradición que desde hace tiempo había estado casi en vías de extinción, excepto fuera de España.

Últimamente ha ido asomando su cabeza en algunos renombrados teatros de ópera gracias al esfuerzo de Plácido Domingo, y esta es una oportunidad para no perderse.

En esta ocasión, tenemos una Luisa Fernanda vista a través del cristal del posmodernismo —un camino que incluso la ópera está siguiendo cada vez más.

Esto tal vez constituya un asalto a la memoria de los tradicionalistas, aunque la visión del director de escena Emilio Sagi muestra consistencia en concepto, habilidad y buen gusto.

Antes de entrar más en esta cuestión, es bueno recordar la historia de Luisa Fernanda. Del trasfondo de las luchas entre republicanos y monárquicos (la revolución de 1868) surge una historia de amor, a la vez un triángulo clásico, entre una mujer apasionada (Luisa), el arrogante militar que robó su corazón (Javier) y el hacendado honesto y enamorado que la corteja (Vidal), al parecer sin esperanzas.

La guerra ayuda a (irónicas) definiciones: el militar acepta unirse a los rebeldes y, por lo tanto, Vidal dice que defenderá la monarquía. Las convicciones políticas duran poco cuando mandan los caprichos del amor y, luego de que la seductora duquesa Carolina gana las atenciones de Javier y lo convierte en pro monárquico, Vidal no vacila en cambiar de bando, cosa de quedar siempre rivales.

Pronto Luisa Fernanda los imitará, y guiada por los celos y la atracción que le inspira la constancia de Vidal, decide olvidar al mujeriego Javier. Pero ya sabemos que, en cuestiones del amor, no hay decisión que valga.

Con acontecimientos similares a una elegante telenovela, las emociones crecen y se multiplican, traducidas en encantadoras melodías por el genio musical de Federico Moreno Torroba, mientras en las voces del talentoso elenco brilla la poesía de Federico Romero y Guillermo Fernández Shaw, los libretistas.

Como se puede notar, la historia, el ambiente, los sentimientos, son muy de principios del siglo pasado, y así es como aprendimos a amar, sin retoques, a la zarzuela. Y lo que es interesante es que todo ese esplendor se mantiene, a pesar de la intelectual estructura minimalista aplicada por el director. Pero que se mantenga no quiere decir que anden de la mano.

La visualización de Sagi es estéticamente atractiva, con sus rectángulos que se abren y cierran al foro, echando un océano de luz al escenario, con sus dos recuadros que marcan y dividen los dos únicos niveles de escena y sus siempre deslizables cortinas transparentes.

Por otra parte, el hecho de poner todo en blanco y negro, desde vestimentas de cantantes y bailarines al medio centenar de sillas que componen mayormente la escenografía, deja a uno con cierta noción de frialdad que, tal vez, fue planeada como contraste al tumulto de emociones de la trama. Se extraña la “carnalidad” de la zarzuela, el ambiente de las calles, los balcones.

Mientras uno trata de manejar la intriga de la parte visual y su relación con las emociones que se suceden, Sagi despliega una de sus agradables sorpresas, explotando en escena como salida de la nada una impecable Mazurca de las sombrillas en impolutas vestimentas blancas.

Pero vayamos a la música, que trajo consigo una sorpresa de su parte en la presencia de una voz no programada. Ante una momentánea indisposición de María José Montiel, en la función de estreno tuvo que tomar el rol de Luisa Fernanda la soprano Yali-Marie Williams. Una responsabilidad tremenda para la joven puertorriqueña, que llevó a cabo con apenas pocos desajustes de escena y que mostró una bella voz rica en facetas, una innata sensibilidad para actuar y una notable facilidad de expresión.

Plácido Domingo, en el papel de Vidal, sacó a relucir no sólo su reconocida, poderosa voz —esta vez cantando barítono— sino la riqueza de matices de la que es capaz, magistralmente demostrada en el aria Morena clara, la cual cierra con un asombroso y sonoro suspiro de felicidad, tan vivo y sentido que pareció juntar, en esos segundos en que lo mantuvo, toda la música y la poesía y todo el amor que yacen en el corazón de esta zarzuela.

También Domingo mostró una vez más su capacidad de actor con la ironía campechana del diálogo con la duquesa tras el aria Para comprar a un hombre. A propósito: Elena de la Merced estuvo fantástica aquí como su interlocutora, tanto así como en su aria Caballero del alto plumero, que canta con el tenor Antonio Gandía, un excelente Javier por su parte, de bien calibrada voz y sensible fraseo; también muy buen actor.

En realidad otra de las cualidades a reconocer al director Emilio Sagi es la de plantear convincentes escenas y lograr muy buena actuación de todos sus cantantes.

Entre el resto del elenco se destacan Suzanna Guzmán, Federico Gallar, Gregorio González y Daniel Montenegro.

Miguel Roa condujo la orquesta con gentil maestría y sensible habilidad, destacándose la ejecución del melancólico solo de cello.