The set with the cast in "Don Pasquale." Photo by Karen Almond for Dallas Opera.

The wedding scene. Photo by Karen Almond for Dallas Opera.

Wedding bells for Ernesto (Norman Shankle) and Norina (Adriana Kucerova). Photo by Karen Almond for Dallas Opera.

Pasquale (Donato DiStefano) is broiling over his the outrageous behavior by his wife, Norina (Adriana Kucerova). Photo by Karen Almond for Dallas Opera.

Doctor Malatesta (Nathan Gunn) working his intrigue on the confirmed bachelor, Don Pasquale (Donato DiStefano). Photo by Karen Almond for Dallas Opera.

  

Don Pasquale

by Gaetano Donizetti

Presented by Dallas Opera

February 19 - March 7

at Margot and Bill Winspear Opera House
AT&T Performing Arts Center
2100 Ross Ave.
Dallas, TX 75201
214-443-1000

$15-$275

7:30pm Feb. 19, 24, 27 & March 5; 2pm Feb 21 & March 7

The slap in the face: It's a device that has been used for centuries in comedic performance to induce hearty laughter from audiences. But in the Dallas Opera’s smart production of Donizetti’s 1843 opera buffa, Don Pasquale, the slap becomes something more significant—a turning point.

Usually, this opera is populated with stick-figure characters right out of the commedia dell'arte, a stylized form of theater that dates back to the 16th century. The character Pasquale is drawn from the foolish Pantalone, Ernesto comes from the dazed young lover Pierrot, Malatesta is recognizable as the puppet master Scapino and Norina comes from the conniving female Columbina. Meanwhile, the phony Notary is a common operatic device that appears frequently, including in Mozart’s CosÌ fan tutte, which is currently playing in repertory with Pasquale at the Margot and Bill Winspear Opera House.

No stock characters here, though. Director and choreographer Candace Evans has created a world of real people with real domestic and romantic troubles. It is all the funnier for its realistic approach.

Ernesto is Don Pasquale’s nephew. He is in love with Norina, who has the double-whammy of being a widow and penniless, but possesses compensating assets in intelligence and beauty. Pasquale has a prospective bride in mind for his feckless nephew that is exactly the reverse. Ernesto refuses, and is promptly disowned. Enter Pasquale’s physician, Doctor Malatesta, whose role in this plot is to make everything work out in the end. First, he presents a disguised Norina to Pasquale, who marries her in an instant (this is opera, after all). One minute later, he has Norina turn into a John Waters-esque nightmare wife: Moody, dictatorial, spending wildly and unfaithful. When he dares to stand up to her, she delivers The Slap. While this action has always been right there in the opera as a minor comic effect, it is Evans' skill as a director that makes this defiant action the one-step-too-far, the turning point of a very human drama. Everything builds up to it, and then resolves away from it.

Italian character bass Donato DiStefano plays the title character without all of the exaggerated fuddy-duddiness usually seen in a Pasquale portrayal. While he is not the world’s greatest voice (a Boris Godunov, he is not), he is a much stronger singer than many of the comic basses who usually assay this role. Musically, he was unassailable; as an actor, he was believable and funny.

Baritone Nathan Gunn, as the scheming Doctor Malatesta, possesses a voice that is pure honey; perfectly produced and even from top to bottom. His characterization was more sympathetic that usual. When he tells Pasquale, at the end of the opera, that he should be pleased that the marriage was a fake (and therefore, lesson learned), it's believable that he had the old man’s best interests at heart all along.

Slovakian soprano Adriana Kucerova as Norina, in her American debut, was a perky charmer. Her instantaneous switch from innocent to incorrigible was a yin and yang of the same personality. Other than her unfortunate lack of a real trill, she nailed the role, including all of the coloratura passages.

American tenor Norman Shankle’s Ernesto was far from the usual put-upon whiner, thanks again to the deft hand of Evans. He stands up to his pompous uncle and it is easy to see why Norina loves him.

Jean-Pierre Ponnelle’s sets are claustrophobic, much smaller than the proscenium at the Winspear. When all participants are present, cast and chorus appear crammed in. In spite of this, it convincingly serves as the house of a fussy bachelor. The nighttime garden scene was especially lovely, with gorgeous clouds, moonlight and stars. Credit lighting designer Duane Schuler for that.

As in the concurrent production of Così fan tutte, the supertitles eschew literal translations and favor the bare essence. Bonus mini-vignettes, pantomimed during two usually unstaged orchestral sections (another Evans idea), were especially delightful.

Once the rough start of the overture was over, Italian conductor Stefano Tanzania was right on with tempi and with his coordination with the stage. Even where the words flew fast and furious, he was precisely with the singers and on top of the text. However, balance problems between the stage and the orchestra, which were just a hair past acceptable limits, plagued the entire performance.

Don Pasquale is a delightful, if slender, comic romp. Evans has tried to bring some degree of realism to the silliness. She juxtaposes this effort with a stylized use of the chorus and supernumeraries, such as the domestic staff, to great effect. The contrast enlivens the entire show; looking simultaneously forward and backward.

And that's no mere slap in the face.

You can read an interview with Candace Evans here.