The purpose of adapting a work of art is to allow for its universal themes to emerge in a context readily identifiable and relevant for audiences. In transporting the action of George Bizet’s opera Carmen from 19th-century Seville to the tumultuous backdrop of the free trade protests in Quebec and post-September 11 Wall Street, Lowell House Opera’s (LHO) new adaptation fails to shed light on the complex, weighty issues of free trade and globalization, while confusing and compromising the dramatic appeal of the opera itself

Carmen, though sung in French (with English “supertitles” projected overhead in this production), is in many ways a quintessentially Spanish opera. The tale of the seductive, gypsy-girl Carmen, her hapless lover Jose, the bullfighter Escamillo and their love triangle is imbued with a richly Castilian flavor. But the Spanish component does not overwhelm the plot and only heightens, even justifies, the melodramatic exchanges between Carmen and her lovers.

In this modern adaptation, cigarette girl Carmen becomes a Quebecois protestor and smuggler, Jose a riot policeman and Escamillo “a Wall Street trader and well-meaning liberal working the proletariat agenda from within the corporate structure”—who, rather cleverly, takes on the “bull market.”

The opera now opens with the chorus girls behind the police perimeters: they are free-trade protesters in Quebec, though their bright, expensive-looking costumes seem out of sync with their political message. The entire scene, including the cramped arm-waving protests of the chorus girls, feels artificial, with the haphazardness reading not as purposeful disruption but awkward staging.

When Carmen emerges in a seductive, red-frilled dress, she clashes with the environs. This Carmen looks as though she stepped straight from the streets of Seville, not from the smoke and gassing of a street riot.

It’s not surprising that Carmen doesn’t fit in as a protester. Adding political motivation to her already complex character serves not to illuminate, but rather muddle, her personality. As this is the case, the transported setting appears inexplicable.

This is not to say that LHO is not at times compelling. An appealing set hosts a wide array of exceptional singers. Director Anne Harley has amassed extraordinary talent, drawing on conservatory and graduate students, as well as professional singers, to complement Harvard undergraduates.

The first act is highlighted by a duet between Jose (played by Vince Wolfsteiner) and Micaëla (played by Jane Lynch ’04)—the orphan girl Jose’s mother hopes he will wed—where the two extraordinary singers showcase their voices in a moving exchange.

Lynch’s voice is clear and movingly lyrical, and Wolfsteiner’s powerful instrument more than fills the large dining hall.

Also noteworthy, Winfield Ford as Escamillo, brings a larger-than-life physical presence to the stage that is matched only by his full-throated, robust voice.

Carmen, played by Cliona M. McKenna ’02, the sole undergraduate in a lead, holds her own amongst the others. Her voice is sultry and seductive, in nice contrast with the clarity and sweetness of the innocent Micaëla.

Though her singing lacks the necessary volume to grip the audience and her physical presence is often overwhelmed by other cast members, McKenna plays an enchanting seductress and hints at her character’s inner workings with a pleasingly understated delivery.

Carolyn S. Oh ’04 and Kate D. Nyhan ’04, as Mercedes and Frasquita respectively, two of Carmen’s friends and fellow protestors, offer polished performances as well.

The appearance of James E. Jordan (HLS) as El Dancairo and Michael E. Moss ’03 as El Remendado, smugglers and friends of Carmen, offer comic relief and a refreshing dose of confident acting; Jordan and Moss are clearly comfortable in their movements and in delivering their lines with a focus on the dramatic effect.

In addition, the superb orchestration merits mention, as Bizet’s score realizes its playful, graceful, and emotional fullest in the production.