From Newsday, April 2004

LA GIOCONDA. Music by Amilcare Ponchielli, libretto by Arrigo Boito (as Tobia Gorrio). With Aprile Millo, Milena Kitic, Sheila Nadler, Marcello Giordani, Annoshah Golesorkhi, Luiz-Ottavio Faria. Performed by Opera Orchestra of New York under Eve Queler. Attended Tuesday evening. Carnegie Hall.

Ah, the good old days of opera: when tenors stood and delivered, no one expected sopranos to squeeze into little black dresses and conductors and directors served as traffic cops. Wouldn't it be lovely to return to that blessed age of innocence?

Heck, no. Give me revisionist stagings and stern, dictatorial maestros any day. But the occasional trip down memory lane can be both instructive and enjoyable, as was the case with Opera Orchestra of New York's concert performance of Ponchielli's "La Gioconda."

Once a repertory staple, Ponchielli's 1876 score now seems to epitomize opera at its creakiest. Its melodies and orchestrations, in fact, are beautifully crafted, though "Gioconda" lacks the terseness, musical excellence and arrestingly vivid word setting of Verdi's dramas. Its worst feature is Arrigo Boito's lurid, Victor Hugo-inspired libretto, larded with fussy wordplay and portentous outbursts. The less said about the plot (involving a rosary, assorted potions and a randy Inquisition spy), the better.

Ponchielli favored the shimmering-halo-of-strings effect, as loved by divas as the soft-focus lens is by Hollywood stars, and for much the same reason: it hides a multitude of sins. Soprano Aprile Millo, today's high priestess of that old-time operatic religion, needed the extra help on Tuesday. She was in unsteady voice, with squally top notes, though she can still spin a melting legato line like no one else. Her best work came in the last act, in Gioconda's troubled banter with her friends, exhausted contemplation of suicide and taunting song and dance for her tormentor Barnaba, which Millo filled with giddy exultation before stabbing herself in a blaze of melodramatic glory.

Reportedly suffering from a cold, tenor Marcello Giordani nonetheless turned in a strong performance as Enzo. His "Cielo e mar!" was rapturously received despite some raw tone and less than ideally expansive phrasing. (How many old-school tenors, by the way, ever looked half as good as this dashing, robust Sicilian?) His Laura, mezzo Milena Kitic, served up a bold, vibrant sound, not always shifting evenly between registers but splendidly defiant in her Act II duet with Millo (opera's tastiest catfight).

A few clipped phrases aside, veteran contralto Sheila Nadler portrayed a dignified, affecting La Cieca. Bass Luiz-Ottavio Faria was the noble (if slightly underpowered) Alvise, and young Andrew Gangestad made a star turn of the monk's few lines.

The evening's happiest surprise: the superb Barnaba of baritone Anooshah Golesorkhi, who does not have a distinctive timbre or a reliable upper register, but who savored every word he sang. He played his role with a precision and economy of gesture that many "legitimate" actors might envy.

The Dallas Symphony Orchestra Chorus sang marvelously, Ira Siff's semi-staging was elegant and Eve Queler conducted "con affetto," her mercifully brisk "Dance of the Hours" allowing for a quick reentry into the not-so-bad new days.