Joie de mourir

Juilliard Opera presented an under-ripe yet moving performance of Poulenc’s masterpiece Dialogues des Carmelites on Wednesday. Promising young singers surmounted a dodgy production and stiff musical direction with intelligent singing and contagious enthusiasm.

The production by Fabrizio Melano frames the drama in a minimalist, abstract set bookended by two doorways resembling large whitewashed fireplaces. The cast wore dress of the period, and the props are limited to a symbolic blood-red curtain and the only literal Deus-Ex-Machina I have seen — Jesus on the cross, raised and lowered by a noose-like rigging. Melano’s attempt to play interludes with the cast in freeze-frame still poses fell flat, however, giving an impression of scene-change snafus still to be worked out.

The cast was consistently solid, with tenor Paul Appleby a standout as the Chevalier de la Force. His velvety, warm tenor is balanced throughout, with creamy and colorful top notes, tenacious phrasing, and excellent command of the French text.

Soprano Tharanga Goonetilleka, as Blanche de la Force, sounded leathery and forced in Act One, but eventually showed a lovely top and large, glowing sound that will perhaps serve her better in other roles. Most disappointing was her extreme view of the part; instead of a confused, neurotic girl transfixed by the morbidity of the cross, Goonetilleka seemed to play Blanche as completely insane. She twitched, bugged her eyes out, and fretted histrionically throughout the opera, turning a thoughtful meditation on faith into a three-hour mad scene.

Haeran Hong brought pure joy and naïve devotion to the chirpy role of Sister Constance. Her earnest approach to the role give is a credible and even touching depth. Also noteworthy was Emalie Savoy as the new prioress Madame Lidione, whose lustrous soprano anchored Act Three with gravitas.

The Juilliard Orchestra gave a performance perforated with out-of-tune chords and bungled entrances. But any mention of the orchestra would be unfair without singling out Anne Manson‘s dull and workmanlike conducting. She beats big and broad gestures, like a drum major, devoid of finesse or charm. Her unmusical quick-march through the first act left the intelligent, expressive cast in her dust.

Photo: Nan Melville