Why directors insist on taking operas or plays out of their immediate surroundings, continues to puzzle me. While we are always willing to 'disband disbelief' — many operas require this willingness — there comes a point when this is no longer possible because the disbanded disbelief is stretched just a bit too far and the 'band' snaps.

Musically, this is a fine Carmen. The voices range from good to very good. The COC Orchestra under the direction of Richard Bradshaw is excellent, and full of respect for the singers. At no time does the orchestra wash over the voices. Michael Yeargen's sets throughout support the action quite well and allow for good staging most of the time even if they can't quite be called perfect. It must be said here that the staging lacks a certain oomph, just how and why is hard to place.

The costumes by François St-Aubin suffer from the displacement of the action. I now understand why people believe that waving a red sheet in front of a bull, even though the animal is color blind, will irritate the beast. The red-shirted soldiers so annoy the eyes in the first act that it becomes painful to watch the action. Red is such a dangerous color! As for Carmen and her friends, their costumes resemble Gypsies as little as any woman's outfit in the audience. The costumes simply do not fit the parts.

At this stage one begins to wonder if a major company like the COC is falling prey to the cost saving multi-co-production syndrome that has befallen so many regional opera companies. In this case the production credits are shared by the COC with Opéra de Montréal and San Diego Opera. The syndrome reveals that too much input from too many sides adds up to less, not more, which is beginning to take its toll on the look, sound and feel of productions. One suspects that audiences will eventually dwindle if this trend continues to the detriment of the final result.

Carmen is sung by the Russian mezzo-soprano Larissa Kostiuk in her debut with the COC. Her voice is well suited to the role as is her appearance. She is a tall, handsome woman with a satiny, yet sultry voice. Regrettably, she is far too lady-like in her interpretation of Carmen, and she seems unable to move well. One would have preferred her to lean against something and sing her perfect best rather than attempt to dance in the second act's tavern dance scene, at the cost of her musical expression. Here the director failed her for he should have recognized that this scene would be robbed of its fire by her strangely static hip-swinging.

Don José is the ill-fated soldier, who can't resist Carmen's charms. Atilla B. Kiss, a Transylvanian tenor in his debut with the COC, takes on the role of the besotted José, who can't accept no from Carmen. For the most part he carries the role well, although his voice has a tendency toward unevenness.

José, having served time for letting Carmen escape after she is arrested for an attack on a fellow worker, deserts his post following his release from prison. He follows Carmen and her fellow gypsy smugglers into the mountains to smuggle goods into British Gibraltar. That's a far place from South America. Here we have one of the instances when the band snaps; yet another of many instances when it snaps is seeing Carmen running around in high heels in those mountains. These are niggling little trifles, for sure, but they count.

Spanish soprano Ana Ibarra, another new voice to Torontonians, sings Micaëla, a young woman from Don José's village. She is in love with him. Ibarra is perfect for the part, both in voice and appearance. There is a poignancy to her voice that touches one, despite her inability to sometimes follow through in the higher registers.