But City Opera’s production, originally conceived by Jonathan Eaton, is rife with shtick; at this point in its life, and despite the director Cynthia Edwards’s efforts to enliven it, its characters seem dutifully to assume positions onstage marked out for them with masking tape. Towering over these automatons, Ms. Clayton sometimes seemed to be in another production; it would be wonderful to see her remarkable power focused by a director who had some fresh ideas about what to do with it.

And while she has a good voice, with a rounded darkness and ease, it does not fully reflect her presence. This is a flaw not of her instrument but of the way she uses it. She seems so caught up in the character that she sometimes neglects the extra focus on the purely musical side of things that would free her performance of minor, careless mistakes and move it to the next level. To put it crassly, a little more selling of her own singing — a hint of vocal shtick — would radically improve her performance. She is a fine, impressive Carmen, and she has the tools to become a truly great one.

The rest of the cast was perfectly adequate. Jennifer Black seemed promising as a sweet-voiced Micaëla but suffered from a malady often heard at City Opera this season: a difficulty in finding the right pitches. Carlos Archuleta made his company debut with aplomb as Escamillo. Scott Piper was intermittently strong and sometimes wavering as Don José; Branch Fields had fun as Zuniga.

The conductor, Joseph Rescigno, appeared to approach the opera as if it were something to be gotten through. The overture sounded like a collection of bright, familiar show tunes. The sense of reserve that continued to prevail was certainly not calculated to lift anyone’s energy, although in the final scene Mr. Piper and Ms. Clayton, looking as if she had stepped out of a Goya painting, gave it all they were worth.

Anne Midgette  : Nytimes.com