Pagliacci without Cavalleria Rusticana? Why, that's like Tim Robbins without Susan Sarandon!
And yet, it's increasingly becoming a necessity, for the simple fact that it's very hard to stage both--mainly because a company needs two spinto tenors to do both Cav and Pag, and it's hard enough to find one. So as a result, we end up seeing Pagliacci paired up with other works: Gianni Schicchi for example. Later this season, Tacoma Opera will be doing it with Trouble in Tahiti. A few years ago, Seattle Opera did Pagliacci all by itself (they played some incidental music from Leoncavallo's Zaza to pad out the running time). (Digression: You'll notice that Cavalleria Rusticana almost never is performed independently of Pagliacci, presumably because Pagliacci has more hit tunes in it. More's the pity, I say.)
Portland Opera's pairing of Pagliacci with Carl Orff's "scenic cantata" Carmina Burana sounds like a combination too bizarre to work, like bacon sushi. Leoncavallo's veristic Italian opera and Orff's neo-medieval choral settings are two completely different sound worlds. However, going in to the night's performance, I mentally noted that this was the second local revival of a production by Christopher Mattaliano first seen in 1997, and a company like Portland Opera can't afford to revive a flop. Clearly, this production must be more than just a hodge-podge. (Note to self: must try making bacon sushi.)
Pagliacci was reset to the 20th century--no particular dramatic reason why, but more a design one. Apparently the set design was inspired by Fellini's film La Strada: the strolling players had a chance to make an entrance on a 1946 truck rather than the typical mule-drawn cart. It was a good solid production of the opera, perhaps more erotically charged than usual, particularly the scene between Nedda and Silvio. Mark Rucker sang a strong prologue with a ringing high note, and as Tonio was perhaps more sly and calculating than the hulking presence the character is sometimes portrayed as. Richard Crawley was a fierce, fearless and dangerous Canio with a strong, clarion tenor. Frequently "Vesti la giubba" descends into bathos, but not this evening. Nedda was Emily Pulley: not quite a battered bride, but one who has had enough of her controlling husband--her aria was sung brightly (although I personally find her aria and most of her scene with Silvio quite boring. Not the fault of the singers--I blame Leoncavallo.) Marian Pop was the unusually handsome Silvio.
Carmina Burana started where Pagliacci left off: Nedda and Silvio dead in the middle of the stage. And as dancers removed Pagliacci-specific scene elements from the stage, the two came back to life, and received dancer counterparts (from Portland modern dance company Bodyvox). Carmina Burana became a history of love from Adam and Eve onwards. The dancers seemed to represent the physicality of love, while the singers gave voice to more exalted versions of it--though not always.
Of the three vocal soloists in Carmina, baritone Marian Pop was the most successful, with beautiful tone, excellent diction, and a knowing demeanor. Emily Pulley was mostly successful, although by the time she got to "Dulcissime", her voice did sound fatigued. Steven Brennfleck (who had played Beppe in Pagliacci) sang the can't-miss number "Olim lacus colueram", which was accompanied by sick and hilarious real-time magic-lantern-style animations.
The chorus sounded well-studied with good diction--a challenge in a multilingual piece like Carmina Burana. In both works, John DeMain led his forces at a good brisk pace and nice balance between singers and orchestra.
Pairing up these works could have been perfunctory. Happily, the two works, if not a dramatic whole, at least complement each other in ways I could not have imagined before I saw this production.
...though I still miss Cav.
