All the requisite glamour and excitement animated this year's opening night celebration at the San Francisco Opera. A superabundance of red and pink roses packed tightly into intricate patterns decorated both the foyer and the auditorium, which itself was festooned with rose-encrusted swags draped around the dress circle. Many opening-nighters honored the occasion with beautiful evening couture and nonchalantly appraised the finery of others in the preperformance promenade. All the patrons seemed primed for a special evening at an opera that could be regarded as marking the real beginning of General Manager David Gockley's new tenure.
Samson and Delilah, the story of an alluring Philistine courtesan's conquest of the physically invincible hero of the Israelites. The biblical setting was rendered with the voluptuous extravagance of 19th-century orientalist Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema, and featured rich fabrics thick with gold amid blues and lavender coloration. A somber mood — which somewhat de-energized the production — was created by a set too darkly lit to allow the principal singers to be adequately highlighted. The production, designed by Douglas W. Schmidt and directed originally by Nicolas Joël (revival director Sandra Bernhard), gave the visual impact of theatrical opulence, similar to the exotic style of Diaghilev.
It is hard to believe that this opera was written at the end of the 19th century, around the time when all the strictures of the French Academie were being overthrown. Picasso was exploring Fauvism and had already in 1901 painted the Divan Japonais. There were his adventurous contemporaries Debussy and Fauré. Yet Saint-Saëns stubbornly opposed modernism and stuck to a prior conception of opera that included historical pageantry, ballet, and huge choral scenes. Indeed, French theaters refused to play Samson and Delilah. But Liszt, who considered Saint-Saëns his musical equal, was enthusiastic and mounted a production of it in Weimar. The opera has remained in the international repertory ever since.
Photo by Christian Steiner
The opera itself, written in 1876, was Saint-Saëns'Luxuriant Singing, Stodgy Acting
Samson and Delilah sometimes breaks loose from the tethers of conventionality and rises to inspired musical outpourings: the three major arias for Delilah; the Samson/Delilah love duet; the prison scene; and the opening chorus. Here the performers shone forth. The great Russian mezzo-soprano Olga Borodina, as Delilah, performed the arias superbly, with sumptuous tone and enthralling musical nuance. Yet many observers have commented on her failure to project even the slightest commitment to the character she is playing. She is all luxuriant voice all the time; that is what you get, and that is all you get. It would be pleasing to see her move with grace and intention instead of walking around the stage as if she were buying milk at Safeway. But so be it. She is one of today's vocal greats, period.Photo by Christian Steiner
The voice of dramatic tenor Clifton Forbis warmed up slowly, but when he got his bearings, his voice was secure and big, often reminiscent of Jon Vickers. He made deeply heartfelt, sincere music, was especially moving in the dungeon scene, and projected urgency in the love scenes. This was especially heroic, considering his partner's apparent indifference to him and to everything else.Photo by Christian Steiner
Juha Uusitalo was imposing as the High Priest of Dagon. His voice was rich and firm, his portrayal expressive. The supporting cast was evenly balanced: Eric Jordan (Abimelech), Richard Walker (First Philistine), Jere Torkelsen (Second Philistine), Noah Stewart (a Philistine Messenger), and Oren Gradus (an Old Hebrew). All first class. The destruction of the temple in the last act had slight technical glitches. Some pieces fell, while others remained suspended in midair. The results were somewhat comical. The final bows were poorly paced, leaving the audience in a quandary as to whether or not to continue clapping. These minor miscues will undoubtedly be corrected in future performances.