And That’s the Way It Is

SOME YEARS AGO, The Onion, a satirical periodical, sported a headline proclaiming
“Unconventional Director Sets Shakespeare Play in Time, Place Shakespeare Intended.” The ensuing story suggested that a community-theater director would actually set “The Merchant of Venice” in 16th-century Venice.

Gregory Feldmann, Kevin Burdette, 
and Travon D. Walker | Photo Credit: 
Brent DeLanoy/The Glimmerglass Festival

It was a welcome jab at those who shoehorn classic theater pieces into supposedly innovative environs, and nowhere is this more apparent, in my experience, than in the world of opera. The practice seems to me to be more a creative-team indulgence than some manner of bold choice, so I was dismayed to learn that the Glimmerglass Festival’s new production of Mozart’s “Così fan tutte” would be set on a 20th-century college campus rather than 18th-century Naples. 

I’m here to eat crow. Two helpings, in fact. In the past, I have roundly criticized in-house dramaturg Kelly Rourke’s translations. I’m a stickler for correct rhyming when the original is written rhyming verse, and line endings that don’t match as intended hurt my ears. But it turns out that Rourke’s new libretto for old “Così” (title has been truncated) is a festival of witty jokes and glorious rhymes.

Second helping: The shift of time and locale, to an American college campus in 1992, turns out to brilliantly suit the improbable demands of the story. Rourke and director Eric Einhorn began shaping this concept in 2019 for a pocket production that was Covid-stilled; encouraged to pick up the task for the current season, they have proved that the questionable morals explored in Mozart’s time are, if anything, more credible in this academic setting. To put it another way, contempt for women endures undimmed.

The premise is audacious and simple: Two young men, in this case football heroes on the Spartans team, are extolling the virtues of their fiancées. “Why play the field / when you’ve landed the one?” Ferrando muses, and Guglielmo seconds that with “I never imagined / I’d fall quite so hard.” The roles are sung by tenor Travon Walker and baritone Gregory Feldmann, respectively, who credibly inhabit the emotionally spiky world of young men on the cusp of 20. 

Amanda Batista, Travon D. Walker, 
Gregory Feldmann, and Michelle Mariposa 
Photo Credit: Kayleen Bertrand/
The Glimmerglass Festival 

But they’re overheard by an interloper, in this case Alfonso, a nosy maintenance man. He bets them that he can put that virtue to the test. The plum role is sung by bass Kevin Burdette, a Glimmerglass Resident Artist this season, garbed in work clothes and headphoned into the Walkman he wears on his belt. The bet is taken and the scene culminates in a trio during which they promise to “raise a glass to friendship and put argument to rest.”

Orchestra and singers are transparently in sync, but we knew this would be the case from the overture. Conductor Joseph Colaneri set a lively tempo that unleashed the virtuosity of the wind players, and he led the ensemble throughout in a perfect match of tone and dynamic.

The women stirring the hearts of the boys are Fiordiligi, sung by soprano Amanda Batista, and Dorabella, sung by mezzo Michelle Mariposa. I don’t especially care for this “sung by” convention in reviewing an opera because these roles – all of them in the piece, in fact – were fully inhabited by the singers, who I’m sure could excel in stage roles without singing a note. The goofy premise of “Così” notwithstanding, there is depth to these characters that helps make the music so timeless.

Structurally, “Così” is about twos and threes. The two footballers ally with Alfonso; the women they adore will seek advice from Despina, the dorm’s resident adviser. Soprano Keely Futterer is all brass and bluster in the role, her performance all the more impressive when contrasted with the more introspective character she portrays in this season’s “Fellow Travelers.” Despina colludes with Alfonso to help him win his bet, a collusion he achieves by tempting her with unlimited snacks from an upstage vending machine. (“You'll have Ding Dongs for days.”)

That practical machine is but one of the many incredible aspects of James Rotondo’s unbelievably detailed two-level set. Downstairs there’s also a foosball table along with some worn-looking lounge furniture and an upstage elevator, used frequently. Outside the upstage window and door are distant buildings and a darkening sky, and that sky will darken to night as the distant windows light up during the course of the piece.

Hallowe’en decorations abound, but even beyond that there’s an array of flyers and posters that look to have been generated specifically for this show, only to fade into a crowd of anonymity. Upstairs is a dorm room with bunk beds, with a prominent “Pulp Fiction” poster among the many wall decorations; across the hall is a bathroom with toilet and sink. Will they resist making bathroom jokes? They will not.

There’s a Big Game ahead, but it seems that Ferrando and Guglielmo were injured during a pre-game scrimmage; thus they (improbably, but what the heck) appear on crutches with braces and collars and bandages galore to head off to the hospital – but not before a high-energy cheerleading sequence with jaw-dropping acrobatics. Then it’s time to bid the footballers goodbye with the terzettino “Soave sia il vento,” sung by Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Alfonso, here Englished as “May heaven protect you / May kindness attend you.” I don’t suppose Mozart had a show-off mode, seeing how just about everything he wrote was impressive – but the trios in this opera are among the best in the business, and the singers and orchestra in this production serve them spectacularly well.

Alfonso’s subsequent scene takes place in the bathroom, with lyrics styled to match. “And now it's time to plunge ahead!” he declares, plunger in hand, unclogging the toilet as he sings. I have a feeling the scatalogically inclined Mozart would have loved this.

Travon Walker, Keely Futterer, and
Gregory Feldmann | Photo Credit: Brent DeLanoy/
The Glimmerglass Festival

The boys return in costume, impersonating a pair of Class of ‘87 alumni. Can they seduce the ladies in question? Fiordiligi sings the aria “Come scoglio immoto resta” to assert her faithfulness. “I am Spartan to my core,” she declares. “And my faith cannot be shaken / I am woman, hear me roar.” Batista owned the stage during that number. 

The stakes are raised. In the original, the suitors ostensibly poisoned themselves with arsenic; here they’re going pound down vodka. Despina, disguised as a doctor, does some hocus-pocus with magnets in the original; here it’s a more plausible pair of defibrillator paddles in a scene that didn’t worry at all about going too far over the top with silly sight-gags. We finish the act with a sublime sextet: “Kiss me, kiss me, oh my goddess” (“Dammi un bacio, o mio tesoro”), masterfully staged and sung.

Despina gets an impressive solo moment near the top of the second act with the aria “Una donna a quindici anni,” but instead of musing about fifteen-year-old girls, Rourke’s version advises, “When a girl becomes a woman / She no longer needs permission / Trust your heart and intuition / They will never lead you astray.” Despina offers good advice but, as we’ll learn, her character is fond of cliché. “Say what you mean and mean what you say,” she’ll insist, and “Once more with feeling! Go seize the day!”

The men are persuasive. The ladies weaken. But each is an individual event, with Fiordiligi a hold-out until the end. Her paramour, Guglielmo, takes a novel tack in his aria “Donne mie, la fate a tanti,” stating, “I've defended loads of women / I'm a feminist full-blown / But then someone disappoints me / and it cuts me to the bone. / Maybe love is too much trouble /and we're better off alone.” Thus are the plot complications more compelling than in most mistaken-identity classics.

Where this production is most lacking is in Madison Manning’s choreography. With a Hallowe’en party in full swing, there’s much call for dance, but it’s an unhappy pairing of 1990s free-for-all against Mozart. I suspect that combinations could be developed from 18th-century precedent and plausibly land in the ‘90s.

There’s the usual rush to a happy ending – I give nothing away to note that it finishes as such – when Alfonso sings “Tutti accusan le donne” – “Don’t blame women – it’s just how they are.” To which I add: Don’t blame the story – it’s just how it is, and it’s only one overlookable aspect of an otherwise splendid, fun-filled production. 

Così
Music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Original libretto by Lorenzo Da Ponte
English adaptation by Kelley Rourke
Conducted by Joseph Colaneri
Directed by Eric Einhorn
Glimmerglass Festival, through August 14, 2026