L.A. Opera’s silly ‘Così fan Tutte’ saved by the singing

Absurdly improbable, shockingly cynical, Mozart’s “Così fan Tutte” is populated by downright stupid and manipulative characters. It is also flooded with Mozartian beauty that offers the depth of thought and feeling of the first modern opera.

Critic Edward Said spoke of the opera’s elimination of memory from the past and from loyalties so that “only the present is left standing.” James Conlon, the conductor of the production that opened at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion on Saturday night, proposes on the Los Angeles Opera podcast that “Così” is not a spiritual Mozart opera but a relevant materialist one.

The production by the late director Michael Cavanagh, which comes courtesy of San Francisco Opera, is indeed materialistic. Set at a posh East Coast country club in the late 1930s, the staging is not of the moment or even particularly of that moment.

L.A.’s history with “Così” includes two previous potent productions beginning with Nicholas Hytner’s in 1988, a highlight of the company’s third season. Gustavo Dudamel and the Los Angeles Philharmonic mounted a stunningly complex production in Walt Disney Concert Hall in 2014. When it comes to materialism, nothing quite beats a 1990 production by Cal State Long Beach given in the Queen’s Salon of the Queen Mary.

Mozart and his librettist, Lorenzo Da Ponte, meant to make us squirm as they uncover our insecurities and the faults in our materialistic facades. Inanely virtuous sisters are engaged to a pair of unrelated, inanely cocky bros. Their infatuations are challenged by a cunning philosopher who persuades the bros to pretend they’ve been suddenly drafted and to return later in disguise to woo each other’s fiancée. The philosopher Don Alfonso wins the bet because, as we are all supposed to know, così fan tutte, women are like that.

But Don Alfonso’s experiment ultimately illustrates the more radically disquieting truth to a misogynistic 18th century society for whom the opera was written: We are all like that. What makes “Così” modern is that it underscores just how quickly and radically things can change in a flash. We think we’re more enlightened than the Age of Enlightenment — yet look around you. Whom or what can you trust?

The challenge of any production of “Così” is to find the core depth in the vapid lovers, beyond the unbelievable naivete and disguises. For that, Mozart’s music becomes the road map for unlocking feelings and for facing the nature of our being. This is not wisdom but an acceptance of human nature that can lead to a transcendence from materialism. The radicalism is that neither composer nor librettist reveals that this actually works. Do the lovers change partners or not? Have they what it takes for a lasting relationship?

The jokey San Francisco production, as staged by Shawna Lucey for L.A. Opera following Cavanagh’s death a year ago, takes an extreme path. The characters are so farcical in their outlandish country club get-ups that they hardly seem agents for a “troubling study in power and agency” that the directors suggest in their program note. These are not the magnificent Hollywood of 1930s cinema but silly people doing silly things for laughs with exaggerated reactions more typical of the previous silent movie decade.

Justin Austin, left, and Anthony Leon in L.A. Opera’s “Così fan Tutte.”

(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)

The silly people, in this case, happen to be fine singers. Conlon supplies grace and, yes, a glowing spirituality, in the orchestra. The hapless loves do awaken some 2 1/2 hours into a 3 1/2-hour performance, becoming more serious, if not that much less superficial.

The set (by Erhard Rom) has just enough elegance to it that when the opera begins after the overture, Fiordiligi and Dorabella both have a little trouble settling in musically. Once they do and once we get over their intentionally unflattering costumes (by Constance Hoffman), they are terrific. Mozart takes his time distinguishing the two, who musically mirror each other, but eventually soprano Erica Petrocelli finds a searing intensity as Fiordiligi, while the honeyed mezzo-soprano Rihab Chaieb displays a hint of welcome larceny as Dorabella. Both become as real as costumes and direction permit.

Once tenor Anthony León’s feisty Ferrando and baritone Justin Austin’ s convivial Guglielmo get past spraying the stage with adrenaline, taking even longer than their fiancées for the essence of the hoax to get through their thick skulls, they too come around to a point. The men test the women, but it is they who are the ones to be less trusted.

Don Alfonso and Despina are two superior “Così” veterans. Rod Gilfry, once a spirited Guglielmo in the company’s production more than 30 years ago and a stylishly devilish Don Aflonso in the L.A. Phil production, is here a creepy hotel manager with little sense of purpose. Ana Maria Martínez, an alluring no-nonsense Fiordiligi at 2006 Salzburg Festival, hangs on to some of that allure despite Despina’s heavy-handed antics.

Rod Gilfry as Don Alfonso and Ana Maria Martinez as Despina in “Così fan Tutte.”

(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)

The L.A. Opera “Così” is dedicated to a beloved founding board member, Alice Coulombe, whose husband founded Trader Joe’s. It might also be dedicated to Robert Fitzpatrick.

Fitzpatrick, who died in September, inspired Coulombe and her cohorts to found Music Center Opera, which became L.A. Opera. As head of the 1984 Olympic Arts Festival, Fitzpatrick cruised L.A. in his BMW with “Così” playing day and night, saying that if he were killed in a crash, that was the last music he wanted to hear. “Così” blasted in the background while he was on an early portable phone making arrangements to bring London’s Royal Opera to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, which directly led to the creation of a local company at last.

“Così” will forever be in the DNA of L.A. Opera. You may need a microscope to see it in this maladroit production, but you hear it wonderfully. In the elimination of memory, the ears are the last to go.