Carmen, San Francisco Opera

Drogen and members of the SF Opera Chorus.

Also: Christian Van Horn as Escamillo

Photo: Cory Weaver / San Francisco Opera

I saw the latest SF Opera Carmen last night, and came home mostly wishing I'd swapped my ticket as soon as I could for the Tristan matinee, the livestream of which I watched.

It's not that it was bad, although neither was it really good. I am definitely Carmen-ed out, in the sense that I've seen it too damn many times.  Last night's performance never grabbed me and made me pay attention.

It is true, in defense of everyone involved, that I was extremely tired, because it was my sixth performance in ten days, or something like that. I had also written a long article for Opera and done the last interview for a long article that I'm filing in a few days. So: tired.

Still. The performances I saw were all more than competent. Conductor Benjamin Manis seemed good; energetic in right ways if not exactly French, to the extent that I'm able to pin down what that means. I'll note that André Cluytens's 1950-ish recording of the opera is often cited as the height of French style. Certainly you can't go wrong with the excerpts? complete recording? by the great Régine Crespin.

But there wasn't a whole lot of fire on stage, by which I mean heat and chemistry between Don José and Carmen, the combustion that would explain his obsession with her and the lengths he will go to possess her. 

I'm putting it that bluntly because when a person stalks and then murders his ex to keep her from moving on to a new partner, we recognize that as domestic violence. I have no sympathy at the beginning of the opera (or the end) when he's clearly going to be executed for murder. The opera should be played for what it is; José should become more and more dangerous, starting early on. And that's not what I saw. Maybe it's Jonathan Tetelman (José), maybe it's the direction, maybe it's both. I do not buy that Carmen is a demon who drives men to murder. I do buy that jealous men kill their ex-partners; it's in the newspapers on a weekly basis.

The singing was all decent, though I didn't find debuting Eve-Maud Hubeaux, as Carmen, particularly alluring. She is French and of course her French in the spoken dialogue was excellent. The character vamps a lot, exposes ankles and legs up to the knee, and I can't help but wonder whether a more restrained portrayal might be sexier. Also, did you feel a chill when she sang "la mort" (death)? Neither did I.

Jonathan Tetelman was okay, though, again, maybe not sufficiently obsessed. Louise Alder, also making her SFO debut, was fine. Christian Van Horn was a pretty good Escamillo, but the horse he rode in on upstaged him. Live animals on stage are almost always a bad idea, and when they are even prettier, if much more placid, than the people around them, well. Resist the temptation. If your Escamillo needs a walking 1500-pound prop to make the right impression, consider firing the director or recasting the part. I do not think Van Horn needed the horse.

The Adler Fellows who filled out the smaller roles provided much-needed variety: Arianna Rodriguez (Frasquita), Nikola Printz (Mercedes), James McCarthy (Zuniga), Christopher Ogelsby (Dancaïre), and Samuel Kidd (Morales). Also in a smaller role, Alex Boyer as Remendado, who isn't an Adler.

There is some kind of problem with the staging, the timing of the supertitles, or the audience itself: I heard much much more inappropriate laughter than is usual, as in, maybe every ten minutes the audience laughed at something that most definitely wasn't funny. Sure, there are moments of lightness, but this opera is a tragedy. I wasn't taking notes, but after the first few occurrences of questionable laughter, I wished I had been.

Of the commentators here, only Michael Zwiebach is really happy with what he saw....but I have people telling me "I heard good things about it!" I'm vaguely wondering where they heard this.

• Michael Zwiebach, SFCV and SF Chronicle
• Joshua Kosman, On a Pacific Aisle
• Michael Strickland, SF Civic Center
• Charlise Tiee, Opera Tattler