New York City. (North America).(Hollander)(Review)

Except for a few performances of Der Fliegende Hollander and Die Meistersinger in years gone by, New York City Opera has never been a Wagner house, but with this season's new production of Hollander (seen Sept. 21), the company has unfurled a winner. Revolutionary in the history of German Romantic opera, Hollander has never been an easy one to stage, because its traditional elements keep getting in the way of the new musico-dramatic concepts that the composer was struggling to realize. The repetitious choruses for the sailors in Act III, for example, though they build some excitement, unduly hold up the flow of the narrative.

Unfazed, director Stephen Lawless has joined hands with choreographer Andrew George to put some life into the group scenes, dancing a fine line between H.M.S. Pinafore and serious nautical drama. Perhaps the business of tugging on ropes is a bit stretched out in Act I -- the most difficult of the acts, because action hasn't yet been set in motion -- but thanks to Giles Cadle's uncommonly atmospheric sets and Robert Wierzel's poetic lighting, the eye accepts a picture of workaday activity transcended by stylized movement. Cadle has defined the stage with an irregular box frame of somber granite. During the overture, a stormy seascape drop occupies the middle ground. There is no literal ship imagery save for rigging, while the stage floor doubles as deck or dockside.

When the Dutchman's ship arrives, red rigging appears to the viewer's right. The Dutchman himself, lashed to the rigging in a crucifix position, has to extricate himself. Despite the demands placed on him by this scene, struggling with his bonds, then hitting the deck in writhing agony, Mark Delavan -- his baritone voice in bass-baritone mode, with round, firm, plummy tone and darkness enough -- delivered a monologue of keen-edged musicianship (double-dotted notes and all) and deeply insightful feeling. This was a figure around whom an entire opera could easily revolve.

Transition to Daland's house was accomplished by lowering some rafters into place and adjusting the picture-frame walls to suggest an actual building. When Senta began her ballad, she opened cabinet doors at the left to reveal an almost life-sized backlit picture of the Dutchman, with an albatross above him. ...