Maria! I've just met (again) a girl named Bayo, and suddenly...

Los Angeles - A bit over twice the age of what Figaro's bride-to-be must
have been, the remarkable Maria Bayo sang, acted, and realized a perfectly
youthful (and youthfully perfect) Susanna in the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion
on Friday night.  What a joy she is, singing everything from zarzuela to
Puccini with equal brilliance, and then sparkling in Mozart with the
expertise this Basque diva picked up during her training in Germany.

It has taken entirely too long for Bayo to perform in the US, but now that
she does, her San Francisco Mimi and now the LA Susanna should prompt hopes
for many happy returns.  With a crystalline delivery, every note exactly in
place, and yet nothing mechanical or taken for granted, Bayo's voice soars
freely and with that "certain something" that distinguishes a great singer
from a good one.  Add superb stage presence, the ability to excel but
within the ensemble, and wonderful comic timing -you cannot find a better
Susanna anywhere.

Except for the monstrous, mile-long line in the intermission in front of
the ladies' room, the Los Angeles Opera's production of "The Marriage of
Figaro" was an eminently civilized, very pleasant affair.  If only the
perfectly adequate cast stepped up to the level of Bayo's Susanna, it
might have been a great evening.  Still, all was well.

Except for that queue.  I understand that "real" opera fans may object to
such a pedestrian item mentioned prominently in a report on Mozart - and,
to make matters worse, by somebody who is no lady - but consider this
additional data:  to save on overtime (one presumes), LA Opera is running
the work in two acts, so there is almost two hours before "halftime" (this
is written as the NY Giants are slowly twisting in the fresh sea air from
Baltimore).  'Nuff said.

(Not nearly as bad as making the audience's intermission life miserable,
but a similar indication of the company's order of priorities:  the board
of directors is listed in the program ahead of the singers and the
production team, tsk, tsk.)

Yes, the rest of "Nozze" - the best of the rest (after Bayo) were Marco
Guidarini, conducting with vast energy and a passion almost excessive for
the occasion, and Richard Bernstein's solid, believable, well-sung Figaro.
The orchestra was at its best behavior, all around.  It was fun to see -
and hear - the fine concertmaster Sidney Weiss, along with many musicians
familiar from the Oregon and Carmel Bach festivals, in their natural
habitat.  The Peter Hall production, with John Bury's sets, will serve
for many more years (especially if it has better lighting than here).

The most *interesting* singer of the evening was Pamela Armstrong, the
Countess, a diamond in the rough if I ever heard one.  The voice is all
there, but the singing isn't.  She acts and sings as if she were at the
beginning of a career, uncertain and trying too hard, uncomfortable in both
her vocal and stage presence.  And yet:  a potentially important voice.
May she have the finest of coaches and the best of luck.

Claudio Otelli's Count kept switching from showing off a big voice to
episodes of not sustaining the production of that voice.  Stiff in voice
and acting, Otelli also has the unfortunate habit of spitting in great
streams, and not only when certain sibilant consonants could excuse that,
but pretty much on everything from a to z.  One wonders if learning the
discipline of voice production may not be extended to controlling this
unfortunate - and rather asocial - activity.

The rest of the cast - especially Megan Dey-Toth's Cherubino, Cynthia
Jansen's Marcellina, Jamie Offenbach's Bartolo - helped to move the great
Mozartean machine smoothly and speedily through the cold night.  Forty
degrees!  Fahrenheit!  I am now returning, quickly, to the tropical
delights of Northern California.

Janos Gereben/SF, CA
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