Newsday, September 2004

It is hard to know what to make of Platée, Jean-Philippe Rameau's 1745 "farcical ballet" about a homely river-nymph mockingly wooed by the god Jupiter to chasten his jealous wife, Juno. Its unsightly title character is played by a tenor in drag, a possible sendup of the butch warriors portrayed by castrati in Italian opera of Rameau's time. Was Platée a warning to presumptuous peons, or a dig at the cruel intrigues that held sway at Louis XV's court?

Platée may be all of those things, but in New York City Opera's acid-spiked confection of a staging, it is also an evening of madcap fun and a heart-rending tale of a gullible soul undone by love. Yes, Platée is a victim of her own vanity, but who among us has never dreamed of marrying a rock star? (In the ancient version of the myth told by the traveler Pausanias, Jupiter's supposed bride is a wooden image, not a creature with a heart.)

What's more, Platée is that rare show sure to appeal to fanciers of baroque music, dance mavens and fashion victims. First seen in 2000, Mark Morris' frothy production (with sets by Adrianne Lobel) depicts Bacchus, the god of wine, presiding over a seedy bar where minor deities dally and imbibe. Once they resolve to "mock all mortals and gods," the scene changes to a blowup of the terrarium behind the bar, populated by prancing and slithering swamp critters in Isaac Mizrahi couture: body-suits tie-dyed and polka-dotted in eye-popping hues.

Out of the bog emerges Platée, all sagging gut and pea-soup complexion, kicking her gown's train like a reptilian Zinka Milanov. Tenor Jean-Paul Fouchécourt trills and swoons his way straight to the heart, mining Platée's every dotted rhythm and onomatopoeic phrase for pathos and humor. Christine Brandes brings lithe, glittery tone to the key role of Folly, who shows up at midpoint and tears into a chaotic cadenza while boasting of her song's "poignant simplicity." (Rameau wrote a famous treatise "rationalizing" harmony. You figure it out.)

Other soloists, including Philip Salmon, Marcus DeLoach and Lisa Saffer, sing well, if without the utmost in Gallic suavity.

Among Morris' dancers, Michelle Yard excels as Iris—think Grace Jones wrapped in a disco ball—and Charlton Boyd is an uproarious Grace, with a penchant for falling flat on his/her behind. Morris' choreography is a feast for the eyes, juxtaposing jetés with vamping, the wary mating of serpents with the hapless rutting of turtles.

Daniel Beckwith leads a stately performance, with enchanting recorder solos by Rachel Begley and Nina Stern and fine singing from the City Opera Chorus. Alas, Rameau's diaphanous score and the State Theater's cavernous expanses are as great a mismatch as Platée and the king of the gods. But kudos to Morris and City Opera for bringing the fusty entertainments of Versailles back to raunchy, captivating life.

PLATÉE. Music by Jean-Philippe Rameau, libretto by Valois d'Orville. New York City Opera, Daniel Beckwith conducting. Through Oct. 16 at the New York State Theater, Lincoln Center. Tickets: $27.50 to $115.50. Call 212-307-4100 or visit www.nycopera.com.