PERFORMANCE REVIEW: Catherine Pisaroni demonstrates in directorial début that not all stagings of Mozart’s Così fan tutte are ‘like that’ (Teatro Grattacielo, New York City; 19 July 2026)

WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756 – 1791): Così fan tutte, ossia La scuola degli amanti, K. 588 — Yi Liu (Fiordiligi), Ashlyn Taylor King (Dorabella), Hayden Smith (Ferrando), Young-Kwang Yoo (Guglielmo), Ziliang Hao (Don Alfonso), Stella Christine (Despina), Catherine Pisaroni (Cupid); Teatro Grattacielo Orchestra; Abdiel Vázquez, conductor [Catherine Pisaroni, director; Teatro Grattacielo, Ellen Stewart Theatre, Shares at La MaMa, New York City, USA; Sunday, 19 July 2026]

Opera companies face a Mozart problem—or, rather, a host of Mozart problems. The operatic masterworks of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s compositional maturity—Idomeneo, re di Creta, Die Entführung aus dem Serail, La clemenza di Tito, and, above all, Die Zauberflöte and his trio of collaborations with librettist Lorenzo da Ponte, Le nozze di Figaro, Don Giovanni, and Così fan tutte—are enduringly popular with audiences, yet their logistical challenges are daunting. For all their brilliance, these pieces are not suited to the gargantuan spaces of the largest houses, but smaller companies sometimes lack the resources needed to stage them imaginatively and cast them effectively. Perhaps the greatest marvel of any of Mozart’s post-1780 operas is its ability to delight and move despite musical and dramaturgical adversities. These are operas with plot devices deemed by Nineteenth-Century observers to require editorial correction and thought in the Twentieth and Twenty-First Centuries to demand infusions of ‘relevance.’ Might it not be argued, however, that a work like Così fan tutte—an exquisitely beautiful telling of an outrageously indelicate, even immoral story—succeeds because of its problems, because, under the most thoughtful circumstances, directors, conductors, and singers are compelled to explore beyond prettiness and politeness and thereby to ask audiences to confront their own pettiness and prejudices?

Staging Così fan tutte in the intimate space of the Ellen Stewart Theatre at La MaMa, Teatro Grattacielo provided first-time stage director Catherine Pisaroni with precisely the thoughtful circumstances in which to discard tired traditions in order to look deeply into the psychological motivations of the characters created by Mozart and da Ponte and the external forces that manipulate them. Few artists are more immersed in the genre than Pisaroni, but her extensive exposure to all aspects of preparing and performing opera yielded not a clever adaptation of conventional approaches to staging Così but a thorough, unmistakably affectionate dismantling, analysis, and reconstruction of the pitfall-laden drama. Framing the opera as a treatise on ever-evolving, ever-devolving notions of gender, sexuality, and romantic attachments, supervised and narrated with bemused and confounded aloofness—though, owing to the amplification system, not always with audibility—by an unambiguously feminine Cupid, Pisaroni employed simplicity as her most powerful tool in examining the work’s amorous intrigues. As wily as in any production, Despina was here a meddling roommate of Fiordiligi and Dorabella, lending her advice to the ladies greater impact than an impertinent servant’s counsel might wield. Everyone was young and fanciful: even Don Alfonso, though charismatically cunning, was savvy more through experience of the world than time in it. Aptly for a production coinciding with the FIFA World Cup, Ferrando and Guglielmo were boys-next-door standout athletes, ostensibly called up to the major league to facilitate their ‘return’ as stereotypical bad boys.

Utilizing a minimalist setting in which particular emphasis was devoted to differentiating the characters’ individual physical spaces, the sleekness of the concept perpetuated by uncomplicated costume designs, Pisaroni wholly eschewed reliance upon ‘Kleider machen Leute’ characterization, instead encouraging singers and listeners to seek the characters’ emotions and rationales in music and text. Cuts were numerous, including all choral numbers, and sometimes disfiguring, perhaps most regrettably so when Ferrando’s and Guglielmo’s sublime ‘Secondate, aurette amiche’ was interrupted for an intrusion of a modern club vibe, but Ferrando’s too-often-excised ‘Tradito, schernito’ was retained. In the opera’s final minutes, with Cupid’s machinations hurtling towards disaster, Don Alfonso and Despina were transformed into Mozart and da Ponte and tasked with setting things right, only to suggest that there are no right answers to Così’s questions. In affairs of the heart, it was theorized, no outcome is any more right or less wrong than any other. Ferrando therefore claimed the hands of Fiordiligi and Dorabella, Despina connected with Guglielmo, and Don Alfonso turned his attention to a handsome stagehand. It was a plausible resolutuon for an opera with no wholly-logical conclusions; and, most importantly, one achieved with humor and humanity. In her inaugural outing as a director, Pisaroni excelled both at asking herself and her audience why much of Così is uncomfortable and at refusing to attempt to ‘fix’ any of Mozart’s and da Ponte’s perfect imperfections.

Pisaroni had in conductor Abdiel Vázquez an ideal partner for bringing this unique realization of Così to fruition. From the spirited Overture to the valedictory chord of Act Two, the eleven musicians under his baton played with such joy and involvement that infrequent intonational insecurities and moments of disjointed ensemble were unobtrusive. The conductor’s tempi, discernibly rooted in adherence to Mozart’s instructions and familiarity with Eighteenth-Century practice, allowed the singers to breathe air into their much-tested lungs and life into the characters they portrayed. Vázquez’s playing of the continuo was one of the performance’s foremost glories, his virtuosity giving the keyboard an engaging voice in recitatives. The interpolation of the ominous sounds that announce the arrival of the spectral Commendatore in the penultimate scene of Don Giovanni was enthralling, but most inspired was the—admittedly anachronistic—inclusion of the haunting melody of ‘Lacrimosa’ from the Requiem, played with heartrending delicacy. A plethora of advancements in comprehension and execution of period-appropriate style notwithstanding, a half-century of historically-informed handling of Eighteenth-Century music has largely eroded the sort of organic pacing of Mozart’s operas cultivated in earlier generations by conductors such as Josef Krips and Karl Böhm. Vázquez’s conducting of Teatro Grattacielo’s Così fan tutte lacked none of the scholarly accomplishment of recent decades but also exhibited a now-rare fluency in Mozart’s singular musical language.

I festeggiamenti prematuri: (from left to right) tenor Hayden Smith as Ferrando, bass-baritone Ziliang Hao as Don Alfonso, soprano Stella Christine as Despina, and baritone Young-Kwang Yoo as Guglielmo in Teatro Grattacielo’s performance of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Così fan tutte, 19 July 2026
[Photograph © by Wesley Sherow and Teatro Grattacielo]

Vivid of personality but wan of voice in Despina’s interactions with Fiordiligi, Dorabella, and Don Alfonso in Act One, soprano Stella Christine found her vocal footing during the interval and launched Act Two with an incisive, artfully-sung account of ‘Una donna a quindici anni.’ As the romantic entanglements careened from playful subterfuge to life-altering betrayal, Christine limned the metamorphosis of Despina’s ennui into apprehensiveness with immediacy and increasing musical comfort. With each successive ensemble, she seized opportunities to distinguish Despina from her female counterparts with greater confidence. The voice’s focus blossomed as the line ascended, bringing Despina musically and theatrically to the core of the opera’s emotional upheaval.

Were they to stage their hometown composer’s Così fan tutte, the fictionalized sisters of Stift Nonnberg might ask, ‘How do you solve a problem like Don Alfonso?’ Directors and interpreters of the part contend with difficult decisions about the character’s constitution and intentions, Mozart and da Ponte having drawn a figure of chameleonic morality whose ambitions ultimately remain enigmatic. Under Pisaroni’s guidance, bass-baritone Ziliang Hao’s Don Alfonso was assured but never asinine, persuading without bullying. Singing boldly and with easy command of the range, Hao avoided the vocal bluster and acerbic scheming that can make the character insufferably pompous. There was a glimmer of genuine feeling in the voice in ‘Soave sia il vento’, and his Alfonso sparred with his male friends and captivated the ladies with equal fervor. In recitative, aria, and ensemble, text provided the impetus for singing, accentuating the mastery of the collaboration between composer and librettist. Hao’s Don Alfonso unashamedly enjoyed his game, but this was no ‘retired’ Don Giovanni still exulting in debauchery. There was no overt effort to explicate or justify Alfonso’s actions, which seemed to be the point. ‘Così fan tutte,’ after all: are gli uomini not as inclined as le donne to certain inscrutable behaviors?

The dashing Guglielmo, often portrayed as the more assertive of the suitors, was sung by baritone Young-Kwang Yoo with a finely-judged balance of sophistication and bravado. The effervescent swagger of Yoo’s vocalism enlivened ensembles without overwhelming the music or his onstage colleagues. Like all of the principals in this performance, he dedicated close attention to maintaining verbal lucidity even in the music’s most demanding passages. Yoo delivered ‘Non siate ritrosi’ captivatingly, the interplay between words and music propelling the performance. ‘Donne mie, la fate a tanti’ was sung with equal commitment to allying dramatic thrust with unimpeachable musicality. Musically, Guglielmo is no easy sing, the center of vocal gravity positioned awkwardly for many of today’s singers. In conquering this potential obstacle, as well as in credibly imparting the character’s impetuous machismo, Yoo’s youth was a boon, one upon which he instinctually capitalized.

Though initially paired with Ferrando, Dorabella is more temperamentally aligned with Guglielmo, her innate adventurousness needing little provocation to suppress orthodox propriety and capitulate to a new lover’s wooing. Mezzo-soprano Ashlyn Taylor King’s Dorabella was the epitome of a young woman immersed in the turmoil of finding her own identity amidst societal dictates and expectations. The voice’s shimmering timbre gave emphasis to the character’s lines in ensembles, but it was the intelligence of the singer’s interpretation that inspired greatest admiration. There were ascending phrases in which vocal comfort was compromised, but pitches were accurate despite moments of toil. An especially ebullient presence in recitative, King also sang ‘Smanie implacabili’ strikingly, articulating the text with wit. ‘È amore un ladroncello’ was shaped with complementary involvement, the voice serving as a conduit for the aria’s sentiments. King’s Dorabella was passionate but principled: both erotic zeal and conscience resounded in the voice.

Some of the afternoon’s most alluring and authentically Mozartian singing was contributed by tenor Hayden Smith, whose boyish but soulful Ferrando beguiled with expressive sincerity and tonal luster. A worthy comrade for Yoo’s Guglielmo, Smith’s Ferrando was deceptive without ever being duplicitous, his courting of Fiordiligi executed without ill intent—and thus all the more cogent when, contrary to his will, it assumed a measure of earnestness. The celebrated ‘Un’ aura amorosa’ was phrased with eloquence and subtlety, the voice gleaming and secure even when reduced to a wonderfully-projected mezza voce. The nimbleness with which the fiorature in the final scene of Act One were sung increased the injustice of the omission of ‘Ah! lo veggio, quell’anima,’ but Smith voiced ‘Tradito, schernito dal perfido cor’ with unflinching vulnerability that belied the unassailable technical adroitness that enabled it. Both Fiordiligi and Dorabella choosing Ferrando was an unexpected result of the opera’s sensual meanderings, but this Ferrando earned the double adulation, Smith’s singing consistently affirming Mozart’s comprehensive understanding of the mesmerizing capabilities of the human voice.

That Fiordiligi was in this production less an archetypal operatic leading lady and more a multi-dimensional young woman on the brink of sexual awakening was due in part to Pisaroni’s direction and still more so to the performance of soprano Yi Liu. As she sang the rôle, the expansive range of Fiordiligi’s music was dreaded by neither singer nor audience, the voice evenly produced across two octaves to C₆. Like her Dorabella and Don Alfonso, Liu’s Fiordiligi was affecting in her singing in ‘Soave sia il vento,’ and poised vocalism in ensembles was a considerable strength of the soprano’s performance. Defiance and indignation boiled in her voicing of ‘Come scoglio immoto resta,’ rhythmic precision heightening the potency of the text, and, as Fiordiligi conceded her acquiescence to Ferrando’s advances, ‘Per pietà, ben mio, perdona’ was sung with wrenching self-reproach tempered by an understated thrill of liberation. Like the production’s voyeuristic Cupid, Fiordiligi found contentment by relinquishing her flawed control over her situation, surrendering not to duty but to desire.

Perhaps, this production and the artists who gave it life proposed, it is not so much that ‘così fan tutte’ but, rather, that così dovrebbero essere tutti; or, as Cicero put it, ‘esse quam videri,’ it is better to be than to seem.