LOTS OF SKIN, LUST ON VIEW IN 'TANNHAUSER'.

Byline: David Mermelstein

Correspondent

You've no doubt heard of the windmills of your mind, but what about the French doors to your soul? Not ringing a bell? Well, fear not; all will be clear once you've seen Ian Judge's production of Wagner's "Tannhauser" at L.A. Opera.

Wait. Scratch that. Though frequently elegant and occasionally arresting (more on the orgy sequence later), Judge's production -- L.A. Opera's belated first staging of this opera -- is a muddle of metaphors and symbols, of which the French doors just happen to be the most obvious and omnipresent.

Wagner's libretto couldn't be more straightforward: After a period of carnal dissipation in the company of Venus, our indecisive hero, Tannhauser, finds himself back in chaste Wartburg. There, he learns that the virtuous and comely Elisabeth is still carrying a torch for him. A singing contest is arranged, with fair Liz's hand promised to the winner. Amid paeans to idealized love, Tannhauser loses his grip and embarrasses everyone by singing of physical love's rewards, about which he knows plenty.

Saved from a good hiding through Elisabeth's intervention, Tannhauser is banished to Rome to humble himself. But his prostrations are to no avail, and he returns to Wartburg just as Elisabeth has succumbed to despair. Ready to return to his wicked ways, he is reminded of Elisabeth's love by his pal Wolfram, who himself loved unrequitedly this embodiment of female self-sacrifice.

Overwhelmed, Tannhauser dies.

Alas, in Judge's production, little of what Wagner intended seems apparent.

The problem lies largely with the refurbished sets, borrowed from a recent Salzburg production of Mozart's "Abduction From the Seraglio," of all things.

In the present context, Venusberg looks like an S&M dungeon, a castle's great hall resembles a 19th-century ballroom and, at significant points in the drama, the line between interior and exterior completely blurs thanks to those inescapable doors.

This matters for two reasons. First, because all this nonsense undercuts Wagner's moving drama of redemption. It's hard to concentrate on Elisabeth's selflessness and Tannhauser's self-obsession when you've no idea what's happening on stage. Moreover, Judge is clearly motivated by Wagner's vision. Why else would he put crosses all over the stage, use locked rooms to signify spiritual imprisonment and give a shepherd angel's wings? Too bad he's let a Eurotrashy design concept, courtesy of Gottfried Pilz, set the agenda.

Nowhere does that concept dominate more than in the opening Venusberg scene.

American opera companies are, for the most part, demure when it comes to depicting the sex and violence so central to opera plots. So it's always news when a bit of skin gets flashed. This time, it's more than a bit, but don't come looking for the fully monty; bared female breasts and some essentially nude backsides are the extent. The simulated sex, though, is more explicit. Without going into too much detail, let's just say that little is left to the imagination.

What sort of saves things here is the singing and playing. Tenor Peter Seiffert's Tannhauser is hearty and idiomatic. Though not the most suave actor, the tenor is utterly committed to the role. Soprano Petra-Maria Schnitzer sings radiantly and acts the part of Elisabeth with inordinate grace.

Baritone Martin Ganter, as Wolfram, also distinguishes himself, his voice solid and supple, his characterization well-etched and sympathetic. Lioba Braun, as Venus, sure looks her part, but her singing can be wobbly and strained at the top. The rest of the cast proves less memorable.

The large chorus is by turns robust and reverential, depending on the need.

An even more significant contribution comes from James Conlon, the company's music director, who has yet to make a false move in his first year in the job.

In this case, he takes a measured, uncomplicated approach to the score, serving the singers above all. Some might feel his approach lacks spontaneity, but Conlon seems to be advancing the notion that passion is not necessarily tied to volume.

TANNHAUSER - Two and one half stars

What: L.A. Opera presents the company premiere of Richard Wagner's saga of indulgence, sacrifice and redemption in a production directed by Ian Judge and starring the husband- and-wife team of Peter Seiffert and Petra-Maria Schnitzer.

Where: Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles.

When: 7 p.m. today, Sunday, March 8 and 15; 2 p.m. March 11 and 18.

Tickets: $30 to $220. [phone] or www.laopera.com.

In a nutshell: Good singing and playing get sacrificed on the altar of Eurotrash production values.