A son's devotion, a husband's jealousy, a woman's wrath: Gaetano Donizetti's "Lucrezia Borgia" has it all. Opera Boston's new production, however, has only most of it.
The production is solid, the sets are well-rendered, and the black and red color scheme sets an appropriately devilish mood, but with certain things missing, the production falls short of potential greatness.
This potential for greatness is built into the opera. Most Donizetti heroines, like Lucia and Anna Bolena are generic coloratura victims. As the male characters toss them around, the girls do nothing but complain about their misfortune in a series of arias displaying their crowd-pleasing vocal acrobatics.
Lucrezia has all the acrobatics, but she is no victim. She is a seductress. She is a murderess. She is the aggressor whom all other characters fear. Her sole weakness is her love for her estranged son, who inconveniently infiltrates into her circles, unraveling this cycle of murder and seduction leading to her ultimate suicide.
For these reasons, Lucrezia demands more than the average coloratura. She requires power, depth and personality. Barbara Quintiliani brings all of these qualities to her performance. In the first act she displays Lucrezia's tenderness and vulnerability as she encounters her son.
In the second act she channels Lucrezia's wrath as she confronts her jealous husband. In the third act Quintiliani successfully combines these two qualities, culminating in a spectacular coloratura aria that showcases her powerful dramatic voice. This performance makes the production a success, in spite of a lack of support from her lead male counterpart.
This counterpart is Gennaro, Lucrezia's estranged son, sung by tenor Justin Vickers. Vickers' long list of credits and critical hosannas makes one wonder what exactly the problem was the night this reviewer was in attendance. Was he ill? Was his mind somewhere else? Romantic problems? Digestive problems?
Regardless, something was not right. Vocally he could not measure up to Quintiliani's power. His upper register suffered from a debilitating wobbly vibrato. When he wasn't straining to keep up, he got lost amidst the rest of the cast, failing to maintain adequate chemistry.
This became painfully evident in his scene opposite mezzo Christine Abraham who played Orsini, Gennaro's best friend. Abraham gave a solid supporting performance. But despite her best efforts and her charming voice, the tender scene during which Orsini and Gennaro express their friendship and pledge to stay together until the end fell flat on its face. The chemistry was completely unidirectional. Abraham would give cues, trying to maintain a tender rapport, but Vickers would reject them.
The rest of the supporting cast was equally strong, especially bass Bert Johnson, who plays Lucrezia's husband Alfonso. Despite their support and Quintiliani's powerhouse performance, Vickers' weaknesses were unsalvageable.
The costumes designed by Nancy Leary are for the most part excellently rendered. Their harsh sexual imagery compliments the nocturnal set and lighting design, and, of course, the sexually charged seductress Lucrezia. For example, the sailors are all clad in leather pants with openings at the groin, and Lucrezia's black gown in her final wrathful scene is an obvious invocation of the dominatrix. Though at times excessive, this imagery complements the plot and performances effectively.
When all is said and done, this production is about Lucrezia, and more specifically, about Quintiliani as Lucrezia. All of the production values and the supporting performances cohere around her magnificent voice. Her voice is strong enough to temper the production's faults, and as the curtain rises and Quintiliani comes forward to graciously accept her applause, the audience rises gratefully to its feet.
