Met’s 'La Fille”: No Surprises, Just Delights

NEW YORK -- Wonders never cease at Peter Gelb's Metropolitan Opera, which always seems to be in the news these days. Earlier this month the heated subject of debate was Philip Glass's minimalist meditation on Mahatma Gandhi, "Satyagraha." Met patrons either loved it or loathed it. This week the talk of the town is Donizetti's merry French comedy "La Fille du Régiment" starring Natalie Dessay and Juan Diego Flórez, which entered the repertory on April 21 and is slated to be telecast globally five days later. Gelb's goal to get big-time media attention for the Met is succeeding, perhaps even beyond the new general manager's expectations.

Of course like so many novelties at the Met these days, neither "Satyagraha" nor "La Fille" can be called unique Met creations. Both productions were first acclaimed last season in London, the Glass opera at the English National Opera and the Donizetti at Covent Garden (and later at the Vienna State Opera). In fact the British edition of "La Fille" is already available for home viewing on DVD -- this "new" production, with the same principal singers, could be sampled by one and all before it even reached the Met. In that respect Gelb sometimes seems more like a canny booking agent rather than a new-age Diaghelev, an impresario who astonishes us with his original ideas and organizational genius.

One may grumble about that, but it hardly detracts from the quality of the productions or whatever pleasure local audiences can take in seeing them performed live at the Met. The Donizetti comedy arrived fully certified, guaranteed to delight, and it's hard to believe that any reasonable person went away disappointed on opening night. Director Laurent Pelly has updated the action to World War I and even manages to make that ghastly catastrophe seem like fun, especially when an armored tank rolls out on stage at the end, crammed with soldiers determined to save their beloved adopted daughter, Marie, from a loveless marriage. There's always a clever gag in sight, but invariably an appropriate and witty one applied with a light touch, delightfully complemented by Chantal Thomas' basic set constructed from crumpled maps of the Tyrol.

By now, it is almost impossible to imagine the production without Dessay and Flórez as the leads. The French soprano's gamine tomboy could hardly be more physically different from the Met's memorable Maries of the past, the formidably tall Joan Sutherland or the tiny très chic Lily Pons. Whether peeling potatoes, ironing the soldiers' laundry, awkwardly modeling a formal gown, or literally jumping all over her boyfriend Tonio, Dessay is a bundle of comic enchantment, a high-energy interpretation that still manages to reveal the essential human warmth of the character. Perhaps her crystalline soprano has its limitations in terms of sheer expressive color, but her technical control, of Marie's coloratura cascades as well as the more sentimental lyrical moments, is complete.

Flórez has boyish charm to spare as Tonio, not to mention a brilliant high register -- by offering an encore of his famous Act I aria at the first performance, his quota of high Cs doubled from nine to 18. Some may have missed Pavarotti's juicier sound here, but the nasal ping of Flórez's agile tenor suits Donizetti's French style to the ground, and his musicianship is sovereign.

Now today's leading bass buffo, Alessandro Corbelli makes Sulpice all the more hilarious by cagily underplaying the part and accenting the sergeant's fatherly concern for the temperamental waif in his charge. As the Marquise of Berkenfield, Felicity Palmer projects majestic noblesse oblige with a ridiculous fervor that never quite goes over the top, and like all superior Marquises she handily manages her own piano playing in the act-two music lesson scene. Marian Seldes seems rather wasted in the brief speaking role of the Duchess of Krakenthorp, but there is a tradition of over casting here -- Ljuba Welitsch (a sensational Salome in the 1940s and my first Tosca at age 13) returned to the Met to play the role in 1972, while Montserrat Caballé graced the recent Vienna performances.

Conductor Marco Armiliato can take much credit for sustaining the bright musical spirit of the proceedings, as well as the crisp coordination between stage and orchestra pit. The Met's new "La Fille du Régiment" may already be old news, but it is welcome just the same.