The future of the Baltimore Opera Company may be cloudy - it has a severe cash-flow problem, uncertain prospects for long-term fundraising, recent administrative changes - but the present sure sounds great. The production of Bellini's Norma that opened last weekend is one of the most musically satisfying ventures I've heard from the company yet (theatrically speaking, it's another story entirely).
The singers reveal an abundant appreciation for the style known as bel canto - literally "beautiful singing," although the expression encompasses more than that. And there is no better example of a bel canto opera than Norma, with its wonderfully high-caloric melodies that float in elegant arcs above disarmingly simple chord progressions and mostly understated orchestration.
Although the plot about ancient Druids and Romans - more of a Greek tragedy, really - may not strike some audiences today as particularly gripping or even involving, it has the stuff of profound drama in it. And Bellini's way of fusing exquisite music to the core issues of that drama elevates the whole thing.
Not every moment in the score may be gold, but the few weak spots are easily forgiven in light of so many elegantly spun vocal lines. It's no wonder that in the 19th century, even such unlikely types as Wagner revered this work, or that it revealed fresh hypnotic power midway through the 20th century when Maria Callas unearthed so much extra depth in the title role of the Druid priestess who strays from her vows.
Hasmik Papian will not erase anyone's memories of Callas or some other celebrated Normas. On Saturday night at the Lyric, some of the soprano's singing was cautious, especially when it involved coloratura flights, and top notes were not always supported. A lack of distinctive tonal shading limited her account of the opera's famous aria, Casta diva, though she ended it with great tenderness.
That said, Papian attacked the notoriously tough assignment with dignity and taste. At her best, she produced a warm, attractive sound, and her phrasing could be quite vivid. That was particularly so in the chilling start of Act 2, when Norma comes close to murdering her own children out of despair for losing the love of their father, the Roman proconsul Pollione.
Ruth Ann Swenson, a seasoned and much-admired soprano, has been cast as Adalgisa, a no-longer-quite-so-virginal temple virgin who shares Norma's disastrous taste in Roman lovers. Adalgisa is normally sung by mezzos today, but the distinction between the voice types was not so clear-cut in Bellini's day, and the blend of two sopranos can work beautifully, as it did here.
