There is a monument in Rouen, France, in homage of St. Joan of Arc who was burned there on the sizzling stake in 1431, with a quote from André Malraux etched in the stone: "O Joan, without sepulchre, without portrait, you who knew that the tomb of heroes is the heart of the living." Malraux was right about the heart thing, but wrong about the rest: Dolora Zajick gave us a beautil portrait of the saint, from shy shepherdess devoted to God, to fierce warrior, to passionate lover, to resigned martyr, in the San Francisco Opera production of Tchaikovsky's Joan of Arc (The Maid of Orleans) which opened last Saturday.

The ghost of former general director Pamela Rosenberg was hovering above when a man dressed in a gray business suit was the first to come on the stage. We feared for a second the Hundred Year war been relocated to Wall street for the sake of modernizing the opera. It actually turned out to be a relatively neat trick, not one where you go wow, but one you can live with: the choir should be in turn peasants for the Meuse, nobles in the French court in Chinon, soldiers in the battlefield, English soldiers at the stake, and angels talking to Joan. Having the large choir enter and leave the stage, change costumes, etc., we can imagine the headache for the production director. The solution chosen here is to have them as modern spectators of the period opera, just like you and me, except with better view, sitting on low benches on two sides of an elevated incline where the action takes place. The show within the show conceit ends up working quite well, and it is quite economical. Oh, and some wear berets, thus they must be French. At least they are not wearing that Jean-Paul Gautier white-with-thin-blue-stripes sailor sweater. Maybe they were supposed to be accessorized with baguettes and bottles of red wine, but thought it was a pre-performance spread.

Pictures by Terrence McCarthy, courtesy of SF Opera

Most importantly, the choir does not distract from the performance of Dolora Zajick. Maybe it is the marketing from the opera about the "return of the divas," maybe she did not want Patricia Racette's Madame Butterfly to outstage her, whatever it was, her performance was inspired. Just like Cio-cio-san, Joan carries the opera, appearing in, and taking over almost all scenes. Her "Adieu, Forets" aria, in which she bids farewell to the surroundings of her village before going to meet the king of France, was a heart breaking elegy sung sotto voce. But Dolora was as comfortable in the previous aria, where she was rousing the villagers to war. Her voice was firm, assured and musical in all registers, and Tchaikovsky does give her some real estate to cover high and low. She could use power when she had to, and restraint otherwise. And she never faltered, despite being on most of the time.

Three members of the supporting cast stand out: Philip Skinner as Joan's father, Thibaut. He does mostly righteous anger, but he does it well. Karen Slack is the lover of the king, and she does purr like a kitten in their love duet. And Sean Panikkar, as Joan's spurned fiancé, succeeds in the difficult task of playing the resigned and slightly meek lover. Resignation does not carry the voice too far, but Panikkar's clarity and confidence does nonetheless. He must really need his beauty sleep, as he had disappeared by the time of the bows. Too bad, as we wanted to dedicate some applause just for him.

The rest of the cast is a bit uneven. The king of France, sung by tenor Misha Didyk, looks lightweight compared to his lover Agnes, who is too much woman for him, and sounds self-conscious in their love duet, which lacked musical chemistry. His advisor Dunois picks it up in the latter part, but in his first scene, it looks like his chin is glued to his chest. Maybe the costume designer should have tried a v-neck sweater, to delineate his neck better. Yet, despite the posture to get the bass notes out, they come away slightly faint. And Lionel picks up life in the later duet, but we just don't hear him in the ensemble scenes.

Runnicles does a masterful job in the pit. His overture, which evolves from a flute duet into an explosive cavalcade, set the tone beautifully. The stage direction makes use of dancers, kids and mimes, all fine with us. We found the cartoonish Death in a bad Halloween costume to be a faux-pas a bit too heavy on the macabre symbolism. On the other hand, we were impressed that they could make disappear, in a puff of white smoke, Dolora Zajick, who, for all her qualities as a singer, is not stilted, but not particularly nimble either. Anyway, we'll find some place in our heart for her, next to the tomb of the heroes.

Four more performance of Joan of Arc, the maid of Orleans:
Fri. June 9, 7:30 pm, Wed. June 14, 7:30 pm, Sun. June 18, 12 pm, Wed. June 28, 7:30 pm
Box office: 864-3330
War Memorial Opera House
301 Van Ness Ave