THE JAZZ AGE MEETS OPERA
IN LA OPERA’S SEXY COSI
Mozart’s Così fan tutte started with royal scandal. In 1789, Emperor Joseph II commissioned the opera after a partner-swapping scandal shook Vienna’s high society. He knew just who could turn this juicy drama into reality.
Lorenzo Da Ponte wrote an entirely new libretto—not, as many suppose, an adaptation from Beaumarchais. It was completely original, created especially for Mozart’s genius. The composer wrote with frenzied haste, finishing the score in January 1790. It opened carnival season at the Burgtheater, Vienna. There were five performances before the premature death of the emperor put a stop to everything.
Nineteenth-century audiences scorned the opera’s cynical view of fidelity. It took the twentieth century to redeem Così, when listeners at last came to recognize how Mozart’s sublime music transforms farce into high human drama. What began as court scandal wound up as enduring art—a masterpiece that is now part of the standard opera repertoire.
Los Angeles Opera’s sexy and funny production of Così fan tutte—which opened last night—unfolds in a world of champagne and privilege, a twilight of the Jazz Age suspended in perpetual summer. The late Michael Cavanaugh’s production, revived by Shawna Lucey, transfers Mozart’s farce of love and deception to the fictional Wolfbridge Country Club in the early 1930s, a place where leisure is the only occupation, and the appearances are what reign supreme. There is no sense of war looming. Just a game, played in the sun.
The ensemble
This is, of course, a deception. Mozart always pulls the rug out. Beneath the froth, something darker stirs. The story unfolds around two young officers, Ferrando and Guglielmo, and the sisters they are set to marry—Dorabella and Fiordiligi. Everything seems in order until their friend Don Alfonso, a cynic with time to kill, throws out a challenge. He wagers that the women’s fidelity is not as steadfast as the men believe. To prove his point, he devises a scheme: the soldiers will stage a dramatic farewell, heading off to war, only to return in disguise as exotic “Albanians,” intent on testing their lovers’ devotion. Assisting in this theatrical farce is Despina, the sisters’ quick-witted maid, who has no illusions about romance and plenty of tricks up her sleeve.
Played with unforced charisma, impeccable comic timing by veteran baritone Rod Gilfry, Don Alfonso nudged events forward, never showy, never straining for effect. His voice was weathered, knowing, edged with amusement.
Anthony León and Justin Austin
Ferrando and Guglielmo are played by tenor Anthony León and baritone Justin Austin. Leon’s Ferrando was all romantic ardor and sincerity, his voice floating through “Un’aura amorosa” (An air of devotion) with an almost unbearable tenderness. León’s voice moved with an ease that seems almost weightless, yet there is a quiet strength beneath the surface. His breath control, a marvel, allowed long, arching phrases to unfold without strain. The natural lyricism of his instrument—clear, supple, and unforced—finds an ideal home in Mozart.
Anthony León as Ferrando and Erica Petrocelli, with
(at rear) Rod Gilfry as Don Alfonso and Justin Austin as Guglielmo
Austin’s Guglielmo, by contrast to Ferrando, exuded raw sex appeal and a cocksure swagger that ends up crumbling, deliciously, into disbelief. Austin’s good looks, muscular physique, naturalistic acting, and rich, velvety warm voice were tailor-made for the role. Austin dialed up the voltage for “Donne mie, la fate a tanti,” (Dear ladies, you treat so many thus) spitting out the machine-gun patter with a mix of bravado and bite. The phrasing had a volatile energy, words tumbling over each other in a cascade of indignation, every syllable sharpened to a gleaming point.
Justin Austin as Guglielmo
Their fiancées, sisters Dorabella and Fiordiligi, wrestle more openly with the emotional stakes. Rihab Chaieb made for an ideal Dorabella—spirited, effortlessly charismatic, mischievous, and impossible to ignore. Her mezzo-soprano carried a dark, velvety sheen, rich but never overindulgent. Every phrase felt alive, charged with a directness that made each note land with purpose. She moved with a natural ease, her expressive face amplifying the music’s emotional shifts. Her “Smanie implacabili” (Unending torments) carried a raw immediacy, each phrase etched with an almost surgical precision. The voice, crisp yet edged with desperation, cut through the air like a tightly drawn bowstring, every note ratcheting up the fever of betrayal. There was no excess, no indulgence—only the unvarnished sting of Ferrando and Guglielmo’s treachery laid bare in sound.
Erica Petrocelli as Fiordiligi and Rihab Chaieb as Dorabella
Erica Petrocelli’s Fiordiligi, the steadfast and introspective sister, made her eventual capitulation feel hard-won. “Come scoglio” (Like a rock) burst out with desperate conviction, each note a battle against inevitability. There was an innate brightness to her soprano, a shimmer that lends itself beautifully to Mozart, yet she never sacrificed warmth for brilliance. Petrocelli carried a quiet elegance, her features and air of sophistication were well suited to the 1930s setting.
Rod Gilfry as Don Alfonso and Ana María Martínez as Despina
And then there is Despina, the maid who turns into Don Alfonso’s willing accomplice. Ana María Martínez played her as a whirlwind of invention, shifting from doctor to notary with the ease of a shapeshifter. A live wire onstage, her singing was as effortless as her changes. Martínez avoided the common temptation in this role to too far into over-the-top mannerisms. She found an ease within the comedy, her timing precise but unforced, her transformations crisp without succumbing to caricature.
The opera chorus sang beautifully in its role of enhancing the shifting emotional tones—from playful to poignant—without ever overpowering the personal, intimate nature of the opera’s plot. In non-speaking comic bits, they leaned fully into the physicality of their small roles, milking each scene for its comic potential.
Justin Austin as Guglielmo and Anthony León as Ferrando
The whole cast didn’t merely sing. They embodied the music, allowing it to permeate their bones. Each line is weighted—some as light as air, others heavy with yearning. Voices rose and dropped, grazing against each other, separate but inseparable, like hues bleeding into a painting. The humor landed not with a crash, but with the easy lightness of a perfectly timed glance, a raised eyebrow, a held note that hangs just long enough. And the Italian—crisp, nimble, a language not so much sung as relished. Every syllable rang clear, every phrase danced with the sort of precision that feels spontaneous, not rehearsed.
The design reveled in excess. Erhard Rom’s set unfurled like a pop-up book of country-club decadence: a sun-drenched lounge (beautifully lit by lighting designer Jane Cox), a gleaming pool deck, a gym filled with fencers and flirts. Constance Hoffman’s costumes move just as quickly—striped swimsuits, crisp military uniforms, tennis whites. Everything is in motion, as if standing still might force these characters to reckon with themselves.
Musical Director James Conlon, at the podium, was the production’s anchor. He conducted with his usual ear for detail, drawing out the finesse of Mozart’s score without ever losing momentum. The music rippled and glowed, its humor crisp, its melancholy never overstated. Under his direction, “Soave sia il vento” (May the wind be gentle)—that great trio of farewell—unfurled in a hush, its harmonies floating, momentary and fragile. This was Mozart at his most devastating: beauty that vanishes even as you grasp for it.
The surprise final gesture of the production, low-key but provocative, brought a whisper of doubt under the resolution.
LA Opera’s exceptional Così production seduces with wit, beauty, and the unsettling aftertaste of truth—lingering long after the final note fades.
photos by Cory Weaver
Così fan tutte
LA Opera
Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 North Grand Ave.
ends on March 30, 2025
for tickets, call 213. 972.8001 or visit LA Opera
for more shows, visit Theatre in LA
