Newsday, April 2005

Humor is not a quality normally associated with Verdi. He was a dour fellow, dubbed "the bear of Busetto" by his long-suffering wife. His first comic opera, Un giorno di regno, was a crashing failure; and Falstaff, his final work for the stage, looks more intently into the abyss than most commentators care to admit.

Yet laughter ripples its ways through many of Verdi's scores. There is the brittle gaiety of La traviata; the lethal, mocking jollity of Rigoletto; and the gallows humor of the martial entrepreneur Preziosilla in La forza del destino. There is also the laughter of Gustavo, the frivolous, merciful and exquisitely human monarch cut down by the friend he has betrayed in Verdi's 1859 masterwork Un ballo in maschera ("A Masked Ball").

Piero Faggioni's production, now directed by Laurie Feldman, captures the vein of whimsy running through this dark tale. Spritelike pages attend Gustavo in the first scene, and commedia dell'arte revelers trail his puckish confidant, Oscar, in the buildup to the ball.

The staging, alas, is too clever by half. It replaces Gustavo's final dance with his beloved, Amelia—to a sublime, music-of-the-spheres mazurka—with a fussy pantomime. (The wistful Pulcinella who abandons his play and recoils at real bloodshed is a nice touch, though.)

Tenor Marcello Giordani has the dignity, generous heart, and splendidly rich voice for Gustavo; what he lacks is suppleness of tone, the ability to float and caress a musical phrase, particularly in his attractive but hard upper register. There was an easy interplay between him and the Oscar of soprano Lyubov Petrova, who moved with a dancer's grace and acted and sang with irresistible verve.

As Anckarström, baritone Carlos Álvarez won the evening's lustiest ovation with a grandly drawn "Eri tu." Finesse is not his strong suit: His caliginous timbre suggests a permanent sneer, and his voice is healthy but thick, offering limited dynamic shadings. Nonetheless, Álvarez is a fierce presence—still, but radiating fury as his wife's guilty passion becomes apparent. Spectators held their breath as Deborah Voigt's Amelia cowered beneath his gaze.

As for Voigt, she was in mostly effulgent form. She attacked the climax of "Morrò, ma prima in grazia" with uncharacteristic but spine-tingling abandon, and her voice soared thrillingly over the final ensemble. Marianne Cornetti was a musical if slightly underpowered Ulrica, Brian Davis a winning Christiano, and Hao Jian Tian and Paul Plishka suitably menacing conspirators.

James Conlon's conducting emphasized the dance rhythms and impish syncopations that leaven this astonishing score. Conlon whipped up terrifying, almost Wagnerian sonorities in the drawing-of-lots scene, with superb playing from the Met orchestra's brass. Like the Met's smashing Don Giovanni, Ballo will not be broadcast, so a trip to Lincoln Center is in order if thoughtful, stronger-than-usual Verdi tickles your fancy.

UN BALLO IN MASCHERA. Music by Giuseppe Verdi, libretto by Antonio Somma. The Metropolitan Opera, James Conlon conducting. Through May 3 at Lincoln Center. Visit www.metopera.org or call 212-362-6000. Attended Monday.