Washington, DC. (North America).

"Let us have fantasy, boldness, unexpectedness, enchantment--above all, tenderness," Bizet once wrote. He would have found all five qualities, to varying but always traceable degrees, in the Washington Opera's revival of its 1995 production of Carmen. Instead of another routine approach, this venture exuded imagination and nuance almost from the get-go. The only false, showbiz note was the drawing of a sexy couple hanging from the rafters before the performance began. Once that prop was replaced (by a giant curtain, with an abstract design in vivid streaks of orange, red and yellow), Lennart Mork's design took off and never let the eye wander. Mork got more mileage out of that curtain and another, very subtle one that unfolded at the start of Act III to become a twilight sky (that's where the enchantment came in) than other designers get out of mountains of scenery. The opening and closing scenes also acquired remarkable freshness from his playful use of hue and texture.

Complementing the stage pictures during the performance (May 18 at the Kennedy Center Opera House) was a combination of dynamic vocalism and conducting. In the pit was Placido Domingo, Washington Opera's indefatigable artistic director. He doesn't always bring a stamp of authority to the podium, but here he offered firm control, consistent sensitivity and, above all, terrific momentum. His taut approach helped make the use of the Guiraud recitatives surprisingly effective.

Jennifer Larmore was not the most sensual Camen to hit Seville. Sometimes, she looked downright matronly (Mork's early 1900s costume designs struck earthier notes for her fellow cigarette girls and gypsies), but her characterization became more magnetic as the evening progressed. She offered creamy, evenly produced tones and thoughtfully detailed phrases. Fabio Armiliato's portrayal of Don Jose also intensified steadily (at first, the tenor seemed much too wimpy to catch Carmen's eye), and his singing gained in passion and color, too. A few unsupported notes aside, this was compelling vocalism. Enough sparks flew between the mezzo and tenor to make the opera's doomed love affair register deeply, even tenderly, before exploding.

There was plenty of suavity, in voice and action, from bass-baritone Kyle Ketelsen as Escamillo. Virginia Tola, as Micaela, sang with an unpleasant, metallic edge when pushed at the top, but compensation came from the soprano's electric phrasing and three-dimensional characterization. The supporting cast proved valuable across the board, with a particularly vibrant contribution from John Marcus Bindel (Zuniga). Chorus and orchestra also performed reliably.

Director Ann-Margret Pettersson coaxed naturalness of movement and expression from the singers and handled crowd ...