Bringing back Bizet's femme fatale

Victoria Livengood has made a specialty of playing Carmen. (Alexander Vasiljev)

Over the years, Chorus pro Musica under artistic director Jeffrey Rink has built an extremely loyal and enthusiastic following for its annual performance of opera in concert. Last June's offering took place in a sweltering Jordan Hall, where even a broken ventilation system could not dampen audience spirits. This year, on Sunday afternoon, a capacity crowd packed into the same hall, happily climate-controlled, for a lively and high-octane performance of "Carmen."

This Bizet favorite was the first concert opera Rink led at the helm of CpM, back in 1992, and Sunday's performance also made it his swan song. After 18 years, the conductor is stepping down as artistic director in order to hazard new fortunes in Florida, though he will return next year to guest conduct CpM's performance of Puccini's "Turandot."

In the title role on Sunday was the formidable Victoria Livengood, who has made a specialty of Carmen, having performed it over 200 times according to her bio. Her take on Bizet's cigarette girl was sultry, earthy, defiant, aggressive, entertaining, and totally over the top. She made eyes at individuals in the crowd, swigged wine from an open bottle, swatted Rink's backside with a tambourine while he was conducting, and in the last scene, removed Don José's ring with her teeth and spit it back at his feet. (If Adam Klein's Don José had not been armed with an imaginary knife, I'm not sure who would have won in a duel.) Vocally, Livengood's presence was just as large, with a mezzo-soprano of Wagnerian heft, a solid top, and husky lower range. Indeed, beneath all the campy overacting were the ingredients of an unusual and compelling Carmen that never fully gelled.

Klein seemed to throw everything he had into creating a Don José that could keep up with this Carmen, though he leaned a bit too heavily on brute vocal force rather than clean technique, so upper notes too often had a snarling, shouted quality rather than a ringing clarion tone. Still this was a deeply committed performance that conveyed the desperation of a man coming slowly yet completely unglued. Nouné Karapetian sang a sensitive Micaëla with a light and sweet soprano, and she also stood out for the way she scaled her voice appropriately to the intimate dimensions of Jordan Hall. Baritone Robert Honeysucker sang a slightly rickety yet elegant Escamillo, and the smaller roles were ably filled out by Brian Major, Benjamin Werth, Sarah Beckham, Sara Bielanski, John Gomez, and Gregg Jacobson.

The chorus was prepared for this program by Louis G. Burkot, and its sound was abundant, forceful, and attractive in tone yet often a bit hazy in definition. Under Rink's baton, the orchestral playing on Sunday was not the tidiest but it had the requisite heat and finesse when it counted. Julia Scolnik (flute) and Martha Moor (harp) cast the right spell in the big solo before Act III, and other notable contributions came from Andrea Bonsignore (oboe), Steven Jackson (clarinet), and Donald Bravo (bassoon). The New England Conservatory Children's Chorus did itself proud.

Jeremy Eichler can be reached at jeichler@globe.com.