A tale of two (Skylark) operas

For its fifth-annual summer festival, Skylark Opera takes a conservative turn, staging two works they've produced before: Victor Herbert's "Mlle. Modiste" and Leonard Bernstein's "Wonderful Town." While "Wonderful Town" is a bright entertainment, improving on the earlier production, "Mlle. Modiste" is simply interminable.

The book for "Wonderful Town," by Joseph A. Fields and Jerome Chodorov, based on their play, "My Sister Eileen," is beginning to show its age. But then, the story of two sisters from Ohio seeking fame and romance in 1935 New York City, was a piece of nostalgia when it premiered in 1953. Bernstein's jazzy score and Betty Comden and Adolph Green's crisp, pointed lyrics are eternally fresh.

Robert Neu's staging delightfully captures the spirited high jinks of this fairy-tale New York. His detailed direction populates the stage with an abundance of captivating characters, no matter how short their appearance. Choreographer Penelope Freeh puts her unique spin on the period dances, from "Swing" to "Conga," to the avant-garde "Ballet at the Village Vortex." Conductor Steve Stucki's orchestra makes the most of Bernstein's vibrant orchestrations.

Sarah Gibson is a firecracker as Ruth, the sharp, tough, would-be journalist, giving her comic numbers real punch. Sarah Lawrence's Eileen doesn't have quite that vivacity, but with her sweet soprano, it's no wonder all the men fall for her. Gabriel Preisser brings a matinee idol's charm and charisma, and a strong baritone, to Ruth's editor and love interest.

The set is a major disappointment, making Greenwich Village look like a high- school gymnasium.

"Mlle. Modiste" gets off to a bad start with a chorus that might as well have been singing in French. Diction was a problem throughout the performance, which was just as well, given the insipid lyrics, matched with substandard Herbert tunes. The convoluted romance, set in snobbish Paris society, ends exactly where you expect it to, but takes forever to get there.

Kristin Kenning's direction only amplifies the artificiality of the plot and the cardboard characters, making the long evening even longer.

Thankfully, Jessica Fredrickson sparkles as the shop girl who becomes an opera singer. Her facility for coloratura dazzles. As the nobleman who loves her, Robb Asklof, with his robust tenor, deserves a more substantial part.