A corrupt authority figure oozing fake piety in the afternoon and lechery at night, an artist given to anti-government sentiments, and some serious prisoner abuse -- nothing like a 105-year-old opera to help you escape all thoughts of the contemporary world.
In some ways, Puccini's Tosca was always meant to be pure escapism. The composer wasn't nearly as interested in the politics or history of the plot, set in 1800 Rome, as he was in the volatile love story that propels it.
Washington National Opera's invigorating production keeps the spotlight steadily focused on that passion, but doesn't ignore the broader picture. In its confidently old-fashioned way -- so old-fashioned that the sets re-create those seen at the opera's 1900 premiere -- the staging puts good and evil issues out front with equal force.
In a brief, chilling moment at the start of the final act, soldiers drag in the corpse of an escaped political prisoner who killed himself rather than be captured again. They're not about to miss the fun they were going to have making an example of the guy, so they hang the body on a gibbet, while guards mockingly divvy up his possessions, including the female clothes he had with him for use as a disguise.
The ugly hanging is exactly what the menacing chief of police, Scarpia, orders in the previous act, but I've never seen a Tosca that shows it happen (there's no demand from Puccini to do so). It's a vivid touch from director Frank Corsaro, the kind that serves to remind us of exactly how much realism can really drive operas classified as "verismo."
That said, Tosca remains a fabulous sing-fest, which is the primary and obvious reason it has never lost its hold on the repertoire. It also boasts one of Puccini's most brilliant and potent orchestral scores. Washington National puts those attributes across strongly, too.
Onstage, that strength emanates with particular force from Salvatore Licitra, as the painter Cavaradossi, whose revolutionary sympathies and romantic hold on Tosca drive Scarpia to distraction. Licitra, who made headlines three years ago stepping in for an ailing Luciano Pavarotti at the Metropolitan Opera, sang an impressive Washington debut last September in Andrea Chenier. He soars even higher this time.
Licitra produces a huge, stirring sound that seems to echo from some long-ago golden age. His pitch can droop a little and his timbre can lose focus, but never for long; The innate warmth of his voice and the suavity of his phrasing invariably rise to the fore. He's a respectable actor, too.
Ines Salazar reveals a certain amount of Norma Desmond as Tosca, the diva who has to do more than sing for her supper, but still conveys a real woman as tortured emotionally as Cavaradossi is physically. After agreeing to Scarpia's hideous bargain to free the painter, she calmly removes her gloves and throws them to the floor, registering disgust and resignation in equal, affecting measure.
Although hampered by a veiled low register and some hooty or wobbly sounds, a lyrical fire in Salazar's singing pays off where it counts most. She offers a poignant Vissi d'arte, taken at a luxuriously slow tempo.
Juan Pons, as Scarpia, tends to shout his music, but he can still shape Puccini's phrases authoritatively. And, other than some awkward attempts at tussling with an unwilling Tosca in Act 2, his acting also carries weight. Supporting roles, notably Angelotti (Philip Skinner), the Sacristan (Valeriano Lanchas) and the Jailer (Robert Cantrell), are strongly filled.
The production's success owes a good deal to conductor Leonard Slatkin, who generates plenty of expressive heat on his own, not to mention wonderful rhythmic flexibility and uncommon clarity of orchestral detail.
The cramped Te Deum scene in Act 1 is a visual let-down (but, thanks to the well-trained chorus, socially imposing). In the next act, director Corsaro risks titters in the house by turning Scarpia into a Rasputin-like murder victim, who keeps popping up with just a little more life in him after untold stab wounds. The third act's placement of the firing squad on a ledge high above the target looks nearly as implausible.
Otherwise, Corsaro has the action flowing tellingly, while Alexander Beliaev's retro scenery (first seen in 2000), Lena Rivkina's costumes and Joan Sullivan-Genthe's lighting effectively provide the requisite layers of atmosphere.
Note: Sylvie Valayre and Marcello Giordani take the roles of Tosca and Cavaradossi May 25, 28 (matinee) and 31. Guido LeBron sings Scarpia May 19 and 28 (matinee).
Tosca
Where: Kennedy Center, Virginia and New Hampshire Aves., N.W., Washington
When: 7:30 p.m. tomorrow, 2 p.m. Sunday, 7:30 p.m. May 25, 1:30 and 7 p.m. May 28, 7:30 p.m. May 31
Tickets: $45 to $290
Call: 800-876-7372 or visit www.dc-opera.org
