The immorality of Bizet’s Carmen, or at least the cavalier and heartless treatment of the male species by the opera’s title character, was a constant grievance of Victorian era critics. Perhaps it is an indication of the progress society has made to note that a certain contemporary Republican Presidential aspirant has so completely embodied Carmen’s philosophy of disposing of opposite-sex partners when they are no longer convenient or amusing that he deems it patriotic.

Turnabout is fair play, or so they say.

The San Diego Opera season-closing production of Carmen that opened Saturday (May 14) at Civic Theatre, however, is in dire need of a wanton streak, a potent sensuality, a sense of abandon that is arguably at the heart of this popular French opera. British director Sonja Frisell so tamed and denatured the opera’s opening act, where Carmen is supposed to arouse and disrupt a whole military garrison with her provocative behavior in the town square, that I thought we were watching a rerun of Annette Funicello teasing the well-scrubbed adolescents on Disney’s 1950s “Mickey Mouse Club.” Whatever Carmen may need to revitalize it for those who have seen it too frequently (is that possible?), a PG-13 revision is not a likely solution.

San Diego’s Carmen, the Georgian mezzo-soprano Nino Surguladze, possesses a clear, shining instrument, a timbre more like a true soprano than that dusky mezzo color that is often favored for Carmen. This would not be a drawback, of course, if Surguladze had given her voice an edge of sensuality and implicit danger, traits the libretto pointedly invokes, but she opted for “pretty” most of the time.Her Don José, tenor Richard Leech, began in a state of confusion, but little accompanying arousal for the wanton gypsy. As the opera progressed, he managed to pump up his anger—after all he has to kill Carmen in a fit of jealous rage at the end—but he seemed more upset with his own foolish decisions that the loss of his lover to a rival.

When Leech first appeared in San Diego, his bright, attractive tenor proved ideal for numerous romantic leads, from Don José to Faust to Pinkerton and Rodolfo. Some 14 years later, his once burnished top register sounds frayed, unable to sustain a forte legato line without an unhappy wobble. In his mid-range, he retains a confident warmth, a reminder of his salad days.

Which brings us to Wayne Tigges’ Escamillo, the toreador who “steals” Carmen from Don José. His rugged account of the familiar Toreador Song revealed a secure baritone with a clear point to his voice, and I was willing to believe him as the macho bullfighter until his self-confidence morphed into preening and self-conscious poses that mitigated the image. As Micaëla, soprano Talise Trevigne offered the typical sheepish interpretation of Don José’s hometown sweetheart, but her third act aria revealed vocal strengths she could have employed earlier in the opera to strengthen this character.

The vocal rewards in this opera all came from the secondary characters and, as usual, the opera chorus, directed by Acting Chorus Master Kosta Popociv. Who would expect a ragtag group of gypsy smugglers to project Wagnerian grandeur?

Sopranos Rachel Copeland and Priti Gandhi (as Frasquita and Mercédès) sparkled in the vivacious duet where they tell their unlikely fortunes with tarot cards, and when joined by baritone Jeff Mattsey (Dancaise) in the daunting second-act smugglers’ quintet, these three voices were brilliant. Mattsey gave us a memorable Marcello in last season’s La Bohème and a fine Ping in the current season-opener Turandot. So why is he always playing second fiddle?

Bass baritone Scott Sikon gave us a solid Morales, and bass Kevin Langan’s Zuniga, the lieutenant in charge of Don José’s unit, connoted the authority and privilege of his rank.

This Carmen set by John Conklin has been around the block a few times (created for Houston Grand Opera and now owned by Utah Opera), and San Diego audiences have seen it before—but it does the job efficiently. Susan Memmott-Allred’s costumes ranged from predictable, e.g. the canary-yellow soldiers’ uniforms, to the ridiculous. Mint green brocade jackets and pink stockings for the bullfighters in the final act? We expect such campy combinations at next month’s gay pride parade.

Italian conductor Edoardo Müller has regularly offered his expertise in the San Diego Opera pit since 1980, and his assured touch was evident in this production. With the exception of those mercilessly exposed bugle calls from the trumpet section, the orchestra played with finesse.

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