New York City.(opera productions)

This season's Met revival of Don Carlo brought back David Reppa's traditional, monumental sets, with John Dexter's 1979 production restaged by Paul Mills. The conductor and most of the cast were new to their assignments, giving the work a different sound if not a different look.

As heard at the second performance (Jan. 3), Valery Gergiev's leadership found drama in the sweep of Verdi's score, breadth in its characterizations and expressive detail in its orchestral preludes and postludes, though at considerable cost in terms of smoothness and efficiency of coordination. This was a loose-jointed, raw-boned conception of Don Carlo, vital and deep in its grasp of Verdi's underlying pessimism. Tempos were often broad, but at no sacrifice of tension or impact.

Richard Margison's firm, reliable tenor handled the title role with the necessary blend of lyricism and nobility. In his dramatic portrayal, Margison registered little emotion, especially during the prison scene of Act IV, and the result was an impersonal take on this difficult, ambivalent figure, but its vocal values were well served. Galina Gorchakova coped with Elisabetta's lines despite an indisposition that left her with very little middle and lower register, so after the first intermission, Veronica Villarroel stepped into the role, taking over with aplomb given the circumstances. Villarroel's timbre is relatively free of vibrato for a Verdian dramatic soprano, sometimes causing an impression of slightly sagging pitch, but she sang with fire and acted with dignity. Similarly, as Eboli, Irina Mishura created a passionate but elegant lady of the court, deploying her vocal lines with an intensity that was tightly restrained in the garden scene of Act I but gradually released during the second garden scene that followed and finally in her desperate "O don fatale" of Act IV.

Samuel Ramey's Filippo too possessed regal stature and authority. When he revealed his inner concerns -- first in the dialogue with Rodrigo, then in his study -- one felt the direct relationship between the character's uncertainty and his aggressive rigidity. Some sustained tones lacked steadiness, but the arching line was firmly controlled. Paata Burchuladze's Grand Inquisitor was an imposing characterization, boomed out with the power and insistence of an atrophied mind. Perhaps the most self-possessed member of the court, Rodrigo, got the most essentially Verdian singing of all from Dmitri Hvorostovsky, whose soaring line shimmered like silver. The only catch was that the baritone's rather egocentric stage manner didn't quite fit the altruistic nature of this farsighted idealist. This discrepancy was readily overlooked in the face of such assured, glorious vocalism.

In this restaging, there wasn't a great deal of naturalness or personality in the acting; but then, such was probably the case in the court of the real Philip II as well. Stagy operatic groupings sometimes fit the case, as here, and the auto-da-fe scene was as spectacular as it should be, with all the onstage band music restored in the version the Met uses.

JOHN W. FREEMAN

[] Tosca returned to the Met on January 4 with renewed luster, thanks mainly to Catherine Malfitano's first performance with this company of the title role. She seemed to do everything right. Her sound, still leaning toward the lyric rather than the spinto favored by most Toscas, was steady and pure enough to display all the role's elegance and moments of relative intimacy, but when outbursts of fury, anguish or near-hysteria were called for, she let rip spintissima. The dynamic arches of "Vissi d'arte" were nicely set out; the brief lines, "Quanto? ... Il prezzo," and "E avanti a lui tremava tutta Roma!" were sung almost delicately ...