Just as Shirley Temple was good medicine for the Great Depression, comic operas by Rossini seem ideal diversions for the Great Recession. A couple of weeks ago, Washington National Opera revived the composer's most famous work, "The Barber of Seville." And, over the weekend, Opera Vivente jumped into its 12th season with another sparkler, "Cinderella."
Rossini's version of the familiar fairy tale differs in several details, but the basics are still there - a poor dear with nasty stepsisters; a surprise entrance at a palatial ball; a prince searching for an unknown beauty who left something behind (a bracelet, rather than a glass slipper). The music abounds in cleverness, rivaling "Barber" for tuneful flights and colorful orchestration, and the whole thing adds up to a beguiling fusion of laughter and sentiment.
Opera Vivente general director John Bowen has done much more imaginative things with staging than he summons here, but he has "Cinderella" moving effectively and breezily enough in a production with a functional set (by Thom Bumblauskas) and traditional costumes.
The opera, more commonly heard in Italian as "Cenerentola," is performed here in English, like all of the company's presentations. Unfortunately, not all of the singing is distinct enough to make that language-of-the-people policy fully valuable.
In the title role, Ann Marie Wilcox could use more personality in her singing and her acting, but she nonetheless offers considerable style. Gran Wilson, as Prince Ramiro, phrases with taste and conviction, easily compensating for occasional signs of wear and effort.
As Don Magnifico, Cinderella's cruel, drink-inclined father, Christopher Austin brings a round, mostly firm tone and a good deal of theatrical flair to the proceedings. Charles Stanton uses his rather soft-grained baritone effectively as the prince's magically powered tutor Alidoro.
Erica Cochran (Clorinda) and Jessica Renfro (Tisbe) sing brightly as the vain stepsisters, but they're saddled with too much of the same schtick. There are only so many primping gestures and deep frowns anyone can produce in one evening.
Dandini, the prince's valet who pretends to be Ramiro in order to appraise the matrimonial prospects, has been turned into a hyper-femme cliche - not one of Bowen's most inspired ideas. Baritone Brian Pettey nonetheless tackles the assignment with energy and charm. And, aside from a weak low register, his singing is vivid.
