OPERA FESTIVAL AT 29 : A CAMPY ‘DANAE’ REVIVED IN SANTA FE

SANTA FE, N.M. â€”  It all began in 1957, when an utterly unrealistic but stubborn visionary named John Crosby built an opera house--emphatically his opera house--in the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, 7,000 feet above sea level.

The inaugural vehicle happened to be “Madama Butterfly,� but Puccini’s push-button tear-jerker hardly set the tone for what was to come.

The subsequent 29 years witnessed artistic vicissitudes, financial tribulations and even a trial by fire. The semi-alfresco house burned down in 1967; a bigger, better, more beautiful, 1,765-seat theater rose from the ashes a year later. Crosby continued, almost halfheartedly, to meet standard repertory challenges in the New Mexico mirage. But this was tokenism. The dominant impulse here, almost from the start, was adventure.

Santa Fe has already staged 33 U.S. or world premieres. Repeat: 33.

This summer, the agenda includes the first performances anywhere of “The Tempest� by John Eaton and the first performances in America of Hans Werner Henze’s “The English Cat.� The 30th anniversary season, next summer, promises the American premiere of Aulis Sallinen’s “The King Goes Forth to France� plus a long-neglected opus of Richard Strauss: “Die Aegyptische Helena.�

Strauss has always been one of Crosby’s prime preoccupations. Santa Fe has seen nine operas by the Bavarian romantic holdout, such rarities as “Capriccio,� “Daphne� and “Intermezzo� sharing the stage with the obvious international favorites.

Wednesday night, “Die Liebe der Danae� returned after a two-year hiatus. Hardly the most accessible item in the Strauss catalogue, it represents a rather awkward fusion of the whimsical and the ponderous, the trivial and the profound. Its best moments, however, are magical.

The myth of the maiden Danae and her conflicting, semisymbolic, loves for Midas and Jupiter was first brought to the composer’s attention by Hugo von Hofmannsthal in 1920. By the time the opera was created in 1940, however, Strauss was in his mid-70s, the poetic Hofmannsthal was succeeded by a rather prosaic Joseph Gregor, and Germany was consumed by the Third Reich.

Strauss lived long enough to see a lavish dress rehearsal of “Danae� in Salzburg in 1944. Then total war closed all Germanic theaters. The official premiere did not take place until 1952, and this was followed by a short-lived flurry of performances in Milan, Berlin, Munich and virtually nowhere else.

It is easy to see why “Danae� has languished in relative obscurity. The libretto is not just convoluted. It is clumsily convoluted. The score vacillates ponderously and leisurely from flamboyant pomp to muted satire to Wagnerian bombast to bona-fide Straussian pathos.

The opera demands a sensitive, stylish stage director, a designer with an eye for elegance and majesty and a conductor equally responsive to lyrical introspection and heroic thrust.

The cast, moreover, should include a radiant yet vocally hefty spinto soprano, a bona-fide leather-lunged Heldentenor with a healthy top range and a baritone with the voice of a Wotan and the wit of a Lied specialist.

Santa Fe, alas, could meet none of the basic requirements at full value.

The gaudy production was conceived in 1982 by Colin Graham and Rouben Ter-Arutunian. Graham overplayed the mildly comic scenes in terms of grotesque caricature that went far beyond Strauss’ description of the piece: “cheerful mythology.� Ter-Arutunian dressed the open stage and the motley characters in vulgar-mod glitz that would cheapen the best efforts of a provincial operetta company.

Now, the basic traffic patterns have become the responsibility of an innocent named Bruce Donnell, and the basic visual distortions remain. Under the circumstances, there can be no reconciliation between the crucial serious impulses in the opera and the occasional frivolous undertones. The sights constantly contradict the sounds.

The intrinsic validity of the sounds is contradicted further by Crosby in the pit. His love for the score is obvious. His dedication is admirable. The youthful orchestra at his command is strong. But the relentlessly loud, crass, opaque, ill-coordinated performance that he conducts undermines his, and Strauss’, best intentions.

Ashley Putnam looks willowy and glamorous in Danae’s diaphanous gowns, often sings very sweetly and prettily. However, she lacks the technique, the variety of color and the sheer vocal opulence to make the most of a challenge that was ideal for the young Leonie Rysanek.

Dennis Bailey cuts a romantic figure on the stage but reduces the daunting lines of Midas to strangulated bleats.

Victor Braun projects ample authority, bonhomie, power and, ultimately, resignation as the not-too-godly Jupiter. Nevertheless, the strain on his once lyric baritone is beginning to alarm.

The supporting cast includes Ragnar Ulfung as a very blustery Pollux, Glenn Siebert as an embarrassingly amateurish Mercury, Cynthia Haymon as a radiant-sounding Xanthe and four mellifluous Queens--Melanie Helton, Lauren Wagner, Judith Cristin and Clarity James--who lend new meaning to the concept of low camp.