A Date with Puccini's Tosca

Saturday night I attended Portland Opera's Premiere of Tosca for the 2005-2006 Season: Power and Corruption. Portland looked smashing all dressed up, ringing in the Opera's 41st season. Only one pair of jeans were spotted amid a sea of velvet, sequin and fur.

General Director, Christopher Mattaliano, opened the night with warm appreciation, thanking the city for its renewed interest in the company and for the evening's sold-out performance.

Puccini's Tosca, with its torture, attempted rape, murder, and suicide, has won audience acclaim since this romantic melodrama first premiered January 14, 1900 in the mother city of Rome at the Teatro Costanzi where it received seven curtain calls, three for the Giacomo Puccini alone.

Saturday evening's performance was robust, with powerful voices and impassioned acting. I especially enjoyed the sheer volume of the opera, when compared to the San Francisco's Opera where the effect (I found) is numbed by the sheer size of the auditorium. At Kellar Audiorium, the sound grips you and packs a punch.

Tosca's momentous aria, "Vissi d'arte" (I lived for art) was breathtaking, but my favorite moment was the top of the third act, when Cavaradossi awaits his execution by a firing squad. He writes a letter to Tosca, overcome with emotion, he sings of his love for her and his despair at dying at a time when he has never loved life so much.

The clarinet dictates the melody to the singer in this aria, and the voice and instrument unite to convey Cavaradossi's anger over the unjust laws of life and death, finally he releases a cry that transpires such pain it overwhelms the listener.

Now, when he loves Tosca more than ever, his life is to end.

E Lucevan Le Stelle (English translation)
How the stars seemed to shimmer,
the sweet scents of the garden,
how the creaking gate whispered,
and a footstep skimmed over the sand,
how she then entered, so fragrant,
and then fell into my two arms!
Ah sweetest of kiss, languorous caresses,
while I stood trembling, searching her features
concealed by her mantle. My dreams of pure love,
forgotten forever! All of it's gone now!
I die hopeless, despairing, and never before
have I loved life like this!

When the firing squad arrives, the staging quickly brought to mind Francisco Goya's The Third of May.

Greer Grimsley, as the villain Scarpia, delivered a stand-out performance; tall and thunderous, he reeks of vile corruption as his rich bass-baritone socks you right below the belt.

The evening was a delight, a true crowd-pleaser. Puccini's adherence to authenticity and craftsmanship continues to enthrall its audience today, more than a century later. Bravissimo!