‘Usher’ makes a dreary double bill at S.F. Opera

Rather, it’s a sort of operatic Frankenstein’s monster, stitched together by the Debussy scholar Robert Orledge out of the composer’s scraps and snatches, and infused with just enough blood and sinew to allow it to totter unsteadily onto the War Memorial stage.

Not only did Debussy never find a persuasive dramatic shape for his sketches, he may have been doomed from the start by the nature of the material.

Poe’s story, after all — the tale of a nameless narrator who visits an old friend at his family mansion just in time to witness its eerie destruction — is not rooted in any dramatic conception.

The final cataclysm, which creeps onto the page with understated terror, feels inert here, and Roderick Usher’s consuming obsessions — with his sister, his family lineage and the unnameable dread that surrounds him — can feel corny in the flesh.

[...] Tuesday’s performance, staged with claustrophobic precision by director David Pountney and associate director Polly Graham, gave the piece a certain dark splendor, and the small cast, sensitively led by conductor Lawrence Foster, lent the score some much-needed musical vigor.

Baritone Brian Mulligan, who did double duty as Roderick Usher in both halves of the evening, gave a fluid, nuanced performance; baritone Edward Nelson (a first-year Adler Fellow) was a commanding presence as his friend; and tenor Joel Sorenson did a thoughtful turn as the unctuous doctor.

The talky libretto is laden with extra material of Getty’s own devising, including the notion of making the narrator into Usher’s old school chum “Eddie” Poe, an extravagant backstory for the actual stones that make up the house, a strange Faustian thread involving arcane knowledge and the Usher family doctor, and much more.

The piece includes one lovely stand-alone serenade that Poe sings about the beauty of Usher’s sister Madeline, and tenor Jason Bridges, in a fine company debut, gave it a tenderly lyrical account.

In addition to Mulligan and Bridges, the cast included bass Anthony Reed as the malevolent doctor and soprano Jacqueline Piccolino — Adler Fellows both — as the offstage voice of Madeline (a role she also undertook equally briefly in the Debussy).

The most arresting performance came from dancer Jamielyn Duggan, whose sinuous, unearthly turns as Madeline were packed with all the ghoulish horror so lacking from the score.