Tambosi’s Manon Staging Does not Revive Well

Last night at the War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco Opera presented first of six performances of a revival production of Giacomo Puccini’s Manon Lescaut. The staging by Olivier Tambosi was last seen here during the 2006 Fall season, and the production originated with the Lyric Opera of Chicago, where it made its debut in 2005. This revival saw the return of former Music Director Nicola Luisotti, who was known for his perceptive and expressive approaches to Puccini during his SFO tenure. (That tenure began in 2009, and the conductor for the 2006 performance was Donald Runnicles.)

The title character was sung by soprano Lianna Haroutounian. The role of the Chevalier des Grieux, whose passionate love for Manon ultimately undoes both of them, was sung by tenor Brian Jagde. Bass-baritone Philip Skinner returned to the SFO stage in the role of Geronte de Revoir, Manon’s “protector” (scare quotes inserted deliberately); and Manon’s scoundrel brother was sung by baritone Anthony Clark Evans.

Last night’s performance took place almost exactly two years after SFO unveiled its new production of Jules Massenet’s Manon, which predated Puccini’s version by about a decade. Puccini wanted to make sure that his version would not be confused with Massenet’s. That included framing a unique approach to the plot based on Antoine François Prévost’s Manon Lescaut novel, and Puccini went through five librettists to achieve that goal.

The death of Manon (Lianna Haroutounian) witnessed by des Grieux (Brian Jagde) in the “barren wasteland” of New Orleans (photograph by Cory Weaver, courtesy of the San Francisco Opera)

Prévost’s novel is a first-person narrative recounted by des Grieux, and neither of the two operas suggests that we are experiencing the story as des Grieux told it. (As the leading tenor, he needs extended departures from the stage to keep his voice refreshed!) From a structural point of view, Massenet spends more time in Paris than Puccini does. Massenet adds des Grieux’ father to the cast, suggesting that he was thinking more about La traviata than about Prévost, while Puccini distills the Paris stage of the narrative into a very crowded bedroom scene. (Fun fact: La Dame aux Camélias, the source for La traviata, was inspired by Prévost’s novel.)

Massenet’s opera concludes with Manon about to be deported in Le Havre and dying of exhaustion before boarding the ship. In Puccini’s version des Grieux joins her on the ship, and she perishes in the desert of New Orleans. (Those questioning Puccini’s knowledge of North American geography would do well to remember the immortal words of Anna Russell, “You can do anything you want in grand opera, as long as you sing it!”)

Both operas confront the viewer with a high-wire act taking place over a chasm of melodrama. The risk of falling from a great height is best abated through the role of the music. In Puccini’s case, however, the music tends to be at its best when no one is singing. The Intermezzo that preceded the third act (set in Le Havre) presents Puccini’s music at its most expressive, dealing with resources as intimate as a string quartet and as rich as the full instrumental ensemble. Luisotti clearly understood how the motifs of this Intermezzo prepare the listener for the unfolding of the remaining two acts; and his interpretation made his return to the SFO podium a most welcome one.

Sadly, nothing happening during the four acts up on stage came particularly close to that expressiveness. All four of the major characters brought solid vocal work to their characters, but it was difficult to get beyond the impression that all of those characters were made of cardboard. The result was that the narrative trudged its way from one improbable event to another, giving way to occasional diversions into well-executed solo work for soprano or tenor (or both). Granted, Manon Lescaut is a relatively early work; and, by the time Puccini got around to the second act of La bohème (about three years later), he had acquired a much stronger command of turning a crowd scene into a memorable operatic event.

For that matter, while 2006 is rather distant for my current memory skills, I do not recall the progress of the narrative in the last performance groping its way from one episode to another as it did last night. Those who recall the Duck’s Breath Mystery Theatre may remember the bit about the amateur production of The Music Man that has to learn more about “pace” to get the duration down to under six hours. Last night’s performance of Manon Lescaut clocked in at only three hours, but it was hard to shake that Duck’s Breath skit from primary consciousness.