Così - A redo of Mozart/DaPonte in English
- S. Lachterman
- 11 minutes ago
- 5 min read
Così - A redo of Mozart/DaPonte in English
The Glimmerglass Festival 2026
Music, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Original Libretto, Lorenzo Da Ponte
English Adaptation and Projected Titles, Kelley Rourke
Performance, August 9, 2026, 1:00 PM
Alice Busch Opera Theater, Cooperstown, New York
Conductor, Joseph Colaneri
Director, Eric Einhorn
Set Design, James Rotondo
Costume Design, Beth Goldenberg
Lighting Design, Kate Ashton
Hair and Makeup Design, Tom Watson
Choreography, Madison Manning
Chorus Director, Katherine Kozak
Assistant Director, Sable Strout
Assistant Conductor, Brian McCann
Principal Coach, Kimberley-Ann Bartczak
Second Pianist/Coach, Tongyao Li
The Glimmerglass Festival Orchestra and Chorus
Fiordiligi, Amanda Batista
Dorabella, Michelle Mariposa
Ferrando, Travon Walker
Guglielmo, Gregory Feldmann
Don Alfonso, Kevin Burdette
Despina, Keely Futterer
Is This Così? Così! Or, Così fan tutte: A Redo of Mozart/Da Ponte in English
Così fan tutte, the final collaboration of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Lorenzo Da Ponte, is now regarded in a class by itself. Writing for three pairs of male-female voices, Mozart creates an almost purely chamber-musical texture of extraordinary intimacy. Canons and dreamy chromaticism abound, as does an extraordinary diversity of styles: from the silly, frivolous, and jolly to the heart-rending and heroic (with two genuine opera seria-style soprano arias). The symmetry of plot and ensemble arrangement is as satisfying to hear as it is to see. Two comic finales top the cake: one with a quack doctor using Mesmer's magnet therapy, and another with a fussy, Latin-babbling court justice.
Yet this opera remains the most controversial of Mozart's works. Dealing with mere sexual infatuation as well as the nobler ideals of love and honesty, the tricky, twisted plot shows how flippant and relative these qualities can be.
Historically, the opera has troubled some major musical figures. Beethoven, for example, objected to its moral world, and Fidelio, with its exaltation of marital constancy, has even been interpreted as a kind of answer to it. However, he thought highly of the musical ingenuity and beauty.
The plot, as it stands, also leaves a broad ambiguity at the end: Which partners do the lovers really end up with? Is marital union exposed merely as a moral cover for one's true instincts? In all, the work is complex, full of musical ingenuity, and delightful through and through.
Kelley Rourke is a genius as a librettist, translator, and adapter, recasting operas from their original contexts into specific perspectives. Her translations at Glimmerglass over the past decade and a half have been innovative and enormously successful. Rourke does not merely translate; she reinvents the text within a reasonable neighborhood of the original intention.
For audiences who do not cherish the original, or who are new to a work, her adaptations can be exhilaratingly entertaining. For those who know a work all too well, her interpretations can be upsetting or refreshing. Ultimately, the test is whether the message imparted by the music is served when textual changes so clearly take precedence.
A translated Magic Flute, which Ms. Rourke did in 2021, was a far better candidate for a change. Not only is the original libretto by Schikaneder awful, but the English substitution for the German worked much better.
Setting Così fan tutte in schools, youth hostels, diners, etc., is not a new idea. However, an energetic, “shave-and-a-haircut, bang-bang” treatment of the music can be arresting in its new context while perhaps leaving too little room for the music’s inherent elegance to speak for itself. It raises the perennial operatic question: do the words hold sway over the music, or does the affekt of the music inform the dramaturgy? Director Eric Einhorn and set designer James Rotondo clearly delighted in creating an eye-popping, cutaway view of “Sunbury College.” The school is said to be founded, cheekily, in the same year as the opera — 1790. A great visual treat.
Rourke's adaptation rests on a gamble: that the phonemes and cadences of English can replace the original Italian, provided there is a corresponding change in the musical envelope. Perhaps this condition was not met a good deal of the time.
While having dinner at a restaurant in Cooperstown the day before, I overheard divided reactions to the production. At the performance, the audience gave a standing ovation, while an older couple behind me muttered unhappily about the new approach. This is a good sign! People's expectations are being jostled. It's not a “usual” Così.
Rourke clearly roots the plot in a specifically 1990s college scene: no cell phones; boys obsessed with their physiques; young women largely standing their ground in judgment. The prospect of a final marriage or commitment is nonexistent here (and thus the final comic touch is, alas, gone). Also gone is the five-note title motto (“Co-sì-fan-tut-te”), introduced in the overture and later given its precise textual realization by Alfonso, Ferrando, and Guglielmo.
Similarly, Mozart's indulgence in rapid-fire, alliterative Italian passages, always to comic effect, loses something in English. Thus, in “E voi ridete” (Act I) and “Per carità, partiamo; quel che san far veggiamo,” which concludes the Act II quartet, the translated text can only approximate the delightfully musical repartee.[1]
The vocalists deserve much praise. Fiordiligi's extraordinarily difficult part makes formidable demands in the two opera seria arias: “Come scoglio” and “Per pietà, ben mio, perdona.” Soprano Amanda Batista sang with confidence, resonance, and elegance. Fiordiligi is the more imperious and “morally” profiled sister, and Batista amply conveyed this. Michelle Mariposa, as the “looser” sister Dorabella, was outstanding in “Smanie implacabili” in Act I. Rourke also saw fit to include the exhilarating “E amore un ladroncello” in Act II, which is frequently cut. Of course, both sisters partake in numerous duets, trios, and quartets. Mariposa, who was absolutely perfect, also appeared this season as Suzuki in Madame Butterfly: a challenging juxtaposition of roles.
Kevin Burdette, Glimmerglass's 2026 Artist-in-Residence and a very distinguished artist, plays Don Alfonso, cast ironically as the school janitor yet still the chief manipulator of the two pairs of lovers. Burdette did not mug the part; he brought out the cynicism and duplicity of the character.
Tenor Travon Walker's idealistic Ferrando gets knocked down a few notches, becoming something of a clown in the lover-switch. His “Un'aura amorosa” was very affecting. Baritone Gregory Feldmann's Guglielmo winds up in a phony muscle-man outfit befitting his male ego. His boastful “Non siate ritrosi,” a hand-in-glove buffo aria, was a pleasure.
Most delightful, certainly, was the earthy and wily Keely Futterer as Despina. Hers was a rambunctious interpretation that, at times, erupted into remarkable coloratura pyrotechnics. She was hilarious as an EMT using defibrillator paddles to revive the stricken boys in Act I—a good update of the original “Mesmer” reference in Mozart's time.
The sets, costumes, and frenetic college dormitory environment, soaked in clutter and team-sport sweat (“Go Spartans!”), were fantastic, though perhaps most recognizable and most directly aimed at those who remember American college culture of the '90s. I date myself here, unfortunately.
[1] The titles of the musical numbers reflect the original Italian, not the translation as heard.
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