Making the trivial triumphant

Bill Zakariasen in the Daily News:

Donizetti’s 1840 opera, “La Favorita,” is one of those pieces that makes you sorry. for all the nasty things you ever said about “Lucia di Lammermoor.” Outside the enforced familiarity of two arias (“O mio Fernando” and “Spirto gentil,” coincidentally both added as afterthoughts), the formula score is innocuously pleasant but thoroughly unmemorable. The libretto, moreover, is a series of pompous confrontations that would be funny if they weren’t so sleep-provoking. Toscanini once dubbed “Favorita” as “a masterpiece – every note of it.” Well, nobody’s perfect.

Why then did the Met Opera revive “Favorita” Tuesday when it hadn’t been heard there in 72 years? For one thing, the Ming Cho Lee sets were borrowed, not bought (courtesy of the San Francisco Opera), but more importantly, four singers who can cope with Donizetti’s virtuoso writing – Shirley Verrett, Luciano Pavarotti, Sherrill Milnes and Bonaldo Giaiotti are under the Met’s roof. These great performers not only sing superbly, their collective artistry often makes the trivial triumphant.

As Leonora, the wronged mistress of Spanish King Alfonso XI, Verrett was stupendous in vocalism and amazingly believable in action, and her performance was notably better than the “Favorita” in concert form she gave in Carnegie Hall three years ago.

Although he took some time warming up, Pavarotti was his familiarly brilliant, committed self as Fernando – his exquisite “Spirto gentil” almost retitled the opera “Il Favorito.” Milnes (Alfonso) and Giaiotti (Baldassare) presented their roles with utmost dignity of song and action. Alma Jean Smith and John Carpenter were able in smaller parts. Jesus Lopez-Cobos was the superior conductor, giving the score the animation it seriously needed, though the chorus and orchestra have had better nights precision-wise.

Thomas Pazik’s stylish choreography (to some of the opera’s more attractive music) was well-executed by the dancers, but the garish new costumes, coupled with the flimsy little sets, (which often frustrated Patrick Tavernia’s sensible direction), made the production look like a touring version of “Princess Ida.”