"Traviata" without tears

Verdi-LA TRAVIATA: Mané Galoyan (Violetta); Long Long (Alfredo), Anthony Clark Evans (Germont)/Atlanta Opera Chorus & Orchestra/Evan Rogister, cond.; Francesca Zambello, dir.; Peter J. Davison, sets; Jess Goldstein, costumes (November 16, 2025)

Contrary to the opinion of some tastemakers, there's still plenty of room for intelligent traditionalism in opera ... and The Atlanta Opera is providing a haven for it. That was the case with last season's Siegfried and even more so the season-opening La Traviata, seen yesterday. It was a thought-provoking production that left one immensely gratified.

"First, do no harm" ought not to be just a maxim for physicians but for stage directors as well. It almost always holds true for the work of Francesca Zambello, whose highly discerning Traviata staging was revived here by Joshua Horowitz. It moves the action up to pre-World War I France, to no ill effect and with some splendid opportunities for the costumer, well-realized in this case.

Francesca Zambello (Facebook)

No detail was too small for care and each chorister is a distinctive character, aided greatly by Jess Goldstein's garb. Nobody handles a chorus like Zambello, who gave their big moments a perfect blend of realism and stylization. Indeed, virtually all the action felt both dynamic and subtly "right" (and I say this as someone who was decidedly NOT a fan of Zambello's infamously wrongheaded Lucia di Lammermoor at the Metropolitan Opera, back in 1991, where the chorus was misguidedly kept offstage.)

The action was presented as a flashback from Violetta's deathbed, a trope so familiar by now that even it feels comfortingly traditional. Zambello consigns the heroine to a tubercular ward, which creates some odd moments in Act III, when Violetta's final moments must be enacted in a semi-public setting. The director also bisected the opera down the middle of Act II, which played surprisingly well. The action seemed to fly past one. Giant, revolving panels in Peter J. Davison's sets enabled near-instantaneous transitions into and out of Violetta's salon (cool blue) and Flora's gambling den (deep crimson), while the Act II/1 country idyll was simply realized.

Ilanna Starr, Hadleigh Adams, Mané Galoyan & David Crawford in Act II/2 of La Traviata (Raftermen)

If you tire of languishing, hearts-and-flowers sentimentality in Traviata, this was the production for you. That extended to Evan Rogister's propulsive conducting, which began with a surprisingly up-tempo treatment of the prelude. (Conducting and stage direction were definitely kindred spirits.) Aside from a few unconscionable tempo-bends, Rogister's leadership was idiomatic, as was the work of a lithe Atlanta Opera Orchestra, despite a couple of instrumental blemishes. The bracing aura was much the same as found in Lorin Maazel's Deutsche Oper recording (Decca).

Cuts were as expected (second verses of arias and the repeat of "Parigi, o cara"). Alfredo and his father each got a verse of their cabalettas, "Dei miei bollenti spiriti" was played pizzicato as written (but rarely is) and all the subordinate utterances during Violetta's death were omitted ... bad tradition asserting itself at the last possible moment.

Mané Galoyan had almost everything required for Violetta, save for an E-flat and (more unfortunately) vocal punch. Her voice owns the requisite timbre—slighly tart—and morbidezza, she can act and she looked the part. She also portrayed it with a refreshing lack of self-pity or neuroses. Galoyan is a sensitive artist and, like such fairly recent Violettas as Beverly Sills and Patricia Racette, very good with the text. Where the Armenian soprano came up short, at least as heard at the Cobb Energy Performing Arts Centre, was the degree of power necessary for the big moments, especially in a clear but dry, 2,700-seat space. At times like "Amani, Alfredo!" when Violetta must put all her vocal cards on the table, Galoyan had already played her hand. Still, Galoyan sang within her limits and never seemed to spending vocal capital on the demanding role.

Mané Galoyan & Long Long in Act I of La Traviata (Raftermen)

By contrast, a star may be born in tenor Long Long. He's far more tenore di grazia—even essaying voix mixte at times—than lirico-spinto, so one hopes he continues to proceed sensibly. (Rodolfo in La Boheme is about as heavy as his current repertory gets.) Looking disconcertingly like Mario Lanza, Long had in spades something that Lanza never did: class. His singing was always both exciting and in good taste, and fell most gratefully upon the ear. He also comports himself well onstage. More please, of this first-class artist.

Giorgio Germont falls outside the ambit of Zambello's sympathies, a bourgeois monster, one given to toying with Violetta's pet bird while she's pouring her heart out—or crushing one of her flowers to make his point that beauty is passing. That said, he has to convincingly dominate Violetta and yet break our hearts with "Di Provenza." Kudos to barrel-chested Anthony Clark Evans for making the contradictions in the role play believably. His voice has the kind of oaken majesty that Verdian fathers demand and carries well at piano levels, too. A pity he only got one costume for the whole show. (Did Germont's lack of imagination extend to his wardrobe?)

Supporting roles were cast in depth. Ilanna Starr's sparkle and vocal presence as Flora Bervoix merit return exposure in bigger parts, while Alexis Seminario got far-greater-than-usual stage time as Amnina and capitalized on it. She also sang the difficult-to-vocalize role about as well as one could request. Luke Harnish's Baron Douphol had the requisite vocal and stage presence, and my wife's comment said it all: "What a douche!" The chorus was a strong and vital group in all respects.

Plaudits to all concerned for showing that La Traviata could be filtered through a contemporary sensibility without distorting Verdi's social panorama. This is a production that clearly travels well ... as should the show curtain (top), which could be rented out for half the operas in the repertory. A lady's eyes amidst a sea of red ... Carmen? Salome? Tosca anyone?