Flamboyant colors seemed to swivel on stage at the Thursday premiere of the Israeli Opera’s L’elisir d’amore (Love Elixir).
The much beloved opera by Gaetano Donizetti, now revived in homage to the 1997 Omri Nitzan production by director Shirit Lee Weiss, flooded the audience with movement, voices, and light.
The rich color palette included the pink Cadillac that Doctor Dulcamara (Ionut Pascu), a charming charlatan, drove onstage, and the blond wig of his wife (Shaked Strul).
It embraced yellow sunflowers, the main cash crop of the Italian village reimagined here as a kibbutz, and Nemorino’s (Mario Rojas) blue workingman over-shirt.
Nemorino mournfully paced the stage pondering why Adina (Yael Levita) refused to love him. “Who will teach me how to be desired?” he asked Gianetta (Anat Czarny).
The late Nitzan invented Miss Dulcamara when he debuted as an opera director. This part does not exist in more traditional productions and Strul excelled in it.
The drunkard, money-fixated woman often nips at the wondrous cure her husband peddles – a simple red Bordeaux – and Pascu fleeced Nemorino and anyone else with joy – until he meets his match in the strong-willed Adina, who insists that the real love elixir is in her eyes, not his bottles.
The nearly two-century-old opera is a comic love story between Nemorino and Adina, who are able to overcome the obstacles of fate.
Belcore (Oded Reich), an arrogant army officer competes with the country bumpkin over her love and the good doctor considers Nemorino a fool. Yet, at least on stage, it is the fool who has the last laugh.
It is Nemorino who is able to endure the grueling physical training needed to join the army in the scene Venti scudi (Twenty Coins), the payment Belcore offers him to enlist – and money he needs to buy more of the love potion.
The doctor is clueless as to why all village girls begin to fawn over the naïve man, but is quick to take credit for it.
The reason is that Nemorino inherits great wealth, which the village gossip Gianetta shares with the entire community over the phone during the aria “Saria possibile?” (Is it possible?)
Levita, who sang in the role of God almighty in David Sebba’s Mothers three years ago, was marvelous. Pascu, who recently sang tragic father roles like Rigoletto and Wodnik in Rusalka, seemed to have a blast as a dark-caped con artist.
It was a nice touch to have him surprise the opera-going audience, usually a conservative one, with a splash of Hebrew here and there.
During “Udite udite oh! Rustici” (Listen, Listen Peasants), he asked the workers how much should such a wonderful cure-all drug cost and blurted out “Mea Shekel?” (NIS 100) then switched back to Italian and offered it for much less.
When Nemorino approached him for more of the cure, he asked him Ma, Hamudi (What is it, darling?) – both raised a laugh from the audience and connected the well-known opera to the here and now.
Czarny, who sings but once in “Saria possibile,” has a ball as well. Cast as a vivacious young woman, she practically dances for attention during her scenes, and when she finally gets to sing, we all get to enjoy it. Reich, also with a blond wig, seemed to burst with good fun.
A hilarious experience
His Belcore is a hilarious, hot-tempered, highly energetic contrast to the solid country boy he clashed with.
The role of Nemorino has a rich history with Enrico Caruso, Luciano Pavarotti, and Rockwell Blake, among others, interpreting it and bestowing new emotions in it. Rojas offered a very big heart and a skilled, worthy performance.
When he sang “Una Furtiva Lagrima” (A Furtive Tear), a gentleman sitting behind me began to hum along.
It is perfectly understandable that, at times, a viewer loses himself in his seat and is moved to tears, or to silently voicing the lyrics, during a performance.
I could not help but wonder if, perhaps, this was an unconscious desire to find a personal way to connect to an opera so bejeweled with talent, movement, and charm that the audience may feel a little left out of it.
Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore will be performed daily, except on Tuesday, November 12, with the final show set to take place on Monday, November 18. NIS 205-467 per ticket.
Call (03) 692-7777 for bookings. Sung in Italian with English and Hebrew subtitles. The Israeli Opera, 19 Shaul Hamelech St., Tel Aviv.