FROM AROUND THE WORLD: PARIS.(Review)

The season at the Opera National began in solid style with a revival of Robert Carsen's 1995 production of Nabucco. The stylized chorus movement, plus the stand-and-sing approach of the production, makes this ideal revival material. The ancient stone sets and traditional costumes of Michael Levine looked fine, with theatrical moments such as the thunderbolt or the opening chasm for the chorus of Hebrew slaves still making for effective theater, but some of the intensity of the original production seemed lost.

Despite a finely played overture under the direction of James Conlon, the first half of the show was slow to take fire, in part due to the announced indisposition of soprano Susan Neves as Abigaille (Sept. 20). The title role was well taken by Lado Ataneli, who contributed Renato Bruson-like smooth, elegant phrasing. At times, however, his voice lacked visceral excitement. Without vocal fireworks onstage, it was left to Conlon to provide the thrills. Instead, he softened the rough-edged violence of the score, which needs fiery, supercharged cabaletta rhythms and more emphasis on the percussive aspect of Verdi's flowering genius. After the intermission, the pace picked up, and the warmly expressive account of "Va, pensiero" proved that this chorus can be precise and disciplined when necessary.

Nabucco was followed by the first new production of the season, Massenet's Don Quichotte. The title role was written as a star vehicle for Chaliapin, and the Bastille was lucky to have the services of Samuel Ramey. Act I opened unpromisingly under a circus tent, complete with twinkling fairground lights. One hopes designer William Orlandi's tacky espagnolerie and the snappy but noisy flamenco choreography by Antonio Marquez were meant as a tongue-in-cheek comment. Although the piece is not without comedy, the nostalgic irony of Massenet's sentimental world seemed absent on the first night (Sept. 22). The toy horses on which Sancho and Don Quichotte entered were too funny, and the windmills looked as if they came straight from a Dutch souvenir shop. All this made the subsequent grandeur of the characters more difficult to establish. Fortunately, the production settled down, helped by the dignified simplicity of Ramey's Christ-like playing of the central role and a calmer, more straightforward approach by producer Gilbert Deflo, particularly in the final scene, in which Quichotte's moving death took place in the shadow of the collapsed big top.

Although his vibrato may have loosened slightly, Ramey's singing frequently rose to greatness, and his clear treatment of the French language was an example followed by too few of the cast. Jean-Philippe Lafont cut a convincing figure as the servile Sancho and brought a frisson of excitement with his larger-than-life delivery of his big Act II aria, but this artist has a tendency to work too hard for his effects. A more conversational, musically disciplined approach would have increased the impact of his performance.

The object of the Dons affections was Carmen Oprisanu's Belle Dulcinee, who looked a tad over her vaunted "vingt ans" but nonetheless cut a glamorous figure and produced some lush mezzo tone. Sadly, her French was obscure. Conlon led a well-paced performance, and he seemed to relish the rich orchestration after the more astringent Verdi a few nights earlier.

If Don Quichotte was disappointing ...