FROM AROUND THE WORLD: NEW YORK CITY.(Review)

David Daniels showed once again his flexible range of expression, variety of dynamics and easy agility in rapid-fire coloratura. Christine Goerke threw caution to the winds in a exuberantly vocalized, splendidly campy portrayal.

On October 31, Rinaldo joined the club of Handel operas produced by New York City Opera and/or its Glimmerglass affiliate. In the title role, countertenor David Daniels showed once again his flexible range of expression, from pensive to angry to exultant, with a variety of dynamics and easy agility in rapid-fire coloratura. Impressive as he was, the protagonist didn't eclipse the rest of the capable cast, and Handel was well served musically. (The score was performed according to the urtext of the Halle Edition by Michael Rot.)

On the scenic front, you paid your money and took your chances. This proved to be one of those mechanically conceived productions that exploit the magic of mirrored Mylar, which is lightweight and relatively inexpensive. A central construct of the stage picture was a movable cube -- small at first, later expanded to the size of a miner's cabin. Solid on three sides, with a platform roof, the cube revolved to reveal an open face, so that (for example) the captive Almirena could sing "Lascia ch'io pianga" inside it. To keep audience interest from flagging during long arias, dancers writhed, leaped and crawled while the soloists were singing. This worked when the intent was humorous, as in the sorceress Alcina's Halloween antics with her devilish cohorts. During more sober moments, such as Argante's invocation of Armida, the plethora of choreography (by Ana Yepes, in her house debut) was merely distracting. And with all said and done, having Argante simply walk onstage didn't score quite the effect of having him arrive according to Baroque performance tradition -- that is, in a chariot drawn by dragons.

On the other hand, the production -- the joint work of Francisco Negrin (who also did the NYCO/Glimmerglass Partenope) and house newcomer Anthony Baker -- never stopped trying to come up with inventive ideas. In addition to that mutable cube, the floor came in for creative use -- in Act I, when the Crusaders used it to lay out a map of Jerusalem for their siege, and again in Act III, when Armida and Argante played a chess game during their duet of reconciliation.

In reading the texts of Handel's operas, it is often hard to tell which scenes and characters are meant to be played with an entirely straight face. Taken seriously, Rinaldo could be simply a heroic drama with bizarre local color. If one does decide, however, to spoof a character such as Armida, one pays the price of losing her as a credible source of danger. In Christine Goerke's exuberantly vocalized, splendidly campy portrayal, caution was thrown to the winds. The audience delighted in the soprano's stylish bravura and the explosion of her harpsichord after she used it to accompany her dancing furies.

In an impressive company debut, bass Denis Sedov gave Argante the physical and vocal stature that such a powerful villain needs -- no joking there. There was considerable chemistry in his scenes with Goerke's Armida and, in a subtler way, with the delicate but spirited Almirena of Lisa Saffer, who traced a lyric line as alluring as that of flageolet player Nina Stern, her obbligato partner in a "birdie" aria ("Augelletti che cantate"). At such moments, it was easy to feel the charm that captivated Handel's original audiences.

As for the legendary virtuosity of the castratos in Handel's day, NYCO put three countertenors in the very first scene. Daniels, nowadays a world star, needed no introduction and quickly proved he was in his element. The other two -- Daniel Taylor as Goffredo, Christopher Josey as Eustazio -- were making their NYCO debuts. Goffredo's Act III aria revealed Taylor's abilities in spinning out soft, sweet music, and he portrayed a gentle king. Josey, whose role gave him fewer opportunities, seemed nervous and technically insecure. All the soloists had to contend with visual interference from the dancers, so persistent that when Rinaldo finally routed Armida's demons, one wanted to give him three cheers for clearing the stage. Harry Bicket, a graceful, rhythmically alive maestro, led the downsized orchestra with the sort of crisp animation and colorful detail that were Handel's stock in trade.