With this poignant "Billy Budd," the Pittsburgh Opera has claimed nothing less than victory at sea.

	Robin Rombach, Post-Gazette Nathan Gunn sings the title role in Pittsburgh Opera's production of "Billy Budd" Click photo for larger image. Pittsburgh Opera's 'Billy Budd' Where: Benedum, Downtown. When: 7 p.m. tomorrow; 8 p.m. Thursday and Saturday. Tickets: $16-$130; 412-456-6666.

With commanding performances by Nathan Gunn as Budd, Greer Grimsley as Claggart and Robin Leggate as Capt. Vere, Benjamin Britten's opera opened yesterday at the Benedum Center in an acclaimed production by Francesca Zambello. Even since the emergence at Pittsburgh Opera of a more sophisticated and risk-taking regime of general director Mark Weinstein and artistic director Christopher Hahn, this opera and production were both its greatest gamble and its strongest success to date.

Singing, acting, chorus and orchestra, the latter under the baton of music director Antony Walker, were superb.

The set was abstract and minimalist, yet evocative of every manner of a ship. An angled rectangle with a single mast serving as the deck of a huge British man-of-war engaged against the French in the late 1790s, it was grandiose in its simplicity and brilliant in its muted lighting. Hydraulics hoisted the "bow" to reveal the lower decks of the ship. It was a compliment to the audience, allowing it a little imagination to connect the dots.

Another compliment is to say that the scenery became transparent. Zambello's set was a portal into Britten's work. And because his opera likewise transmits Herman Melville's story with stunning clarity -- shunning show-stopping arias in favor of ambience and motivic work -- the result was one of pure, unbridled Melville.

The writer's genius, his ability to condense within one ostensibly common story of treachery and jealousy the nature and salvation of humankind is something to behold. Zambello's set allows that to pass onto the listener, as if the pointed bow of the ship pierced one's psyche.

David Bachman Billy Budd perched on the mast of the ship Indomitable. Click photo for larger image.

Actually, "mankind" might be a slightly more appropriate word for this tale of the all-male crew of the British warship Indomitable -- here a cast of 85 men and boys, many displaying "British brawn and beef," as is sung at one point. A charismatic yet naive seaman named Billy Budd runs afoul of the ship's wicked master-of-arms Claggart, who eventually denounces Budd as a mutineer to Capt. Vere. Stung by the accusation, Budd strikes Claggart, killing him. Despite knowing Claggart's vile treachery was to blame, Vere orders a fatal court martial.

Much has been made of Gunn's physique, but his voice reigned supreme. Throughout, but certainly in his swan song, "Look! Through the port comes the moonshine astray!" his burnished baritone and lyrical legato captured the naivety of the irrepressible seaman. This is a singer of first rank, but no one will deny his agility and looks didn't help to sell the part. His climbing of rigging or mast with ease and his swift disarming of Squeak, who attacks him with a knife, would make an Aikido dojo proud.

Gunn's opposite was evil incarnate, Grimsley's Claggart, played with the stiffness of insincere formality and sung with a contrabassoon-like timbre. It was a masterful performance. Leggate's Vere, however, matched it. Wisely staged as far forward as possible by director Christian Rath, Leggate was able to evince the many waves of emotion washing over the captain as he faces the perils of war as well as a love for his crew and Budd, in particular. The tenor crafted these vicissitudes with a befitting nobility.

Christ imagery abounds in Melville's story, as Budd embodies a goodness that must die in order to save the ship from what would be disastrous mutiny. It's the only aspect of Zambello's production that went a little, well, overboard. At one point Budd climbs the mast and stretches out as if placed on the cross. But other than that, Zambello masterfully caught the slowly building drama of opera leading to the hanging, which she drives powerfully home by doing on-stage.

There wasn't a weak link in the cast, from the good-natured bass of Arthur Woodley (Dansker) to the fragile timbre of Jason Karn (the Novice). John Duykers was a feisty Red Whiskers, Scott Scully was properly obsequious as Squeak, and the officers (Timothy Mix, Kristopher Irmiter, Philip Skinner and Peter Lindskoog) were aptly self-righteous. Several young boys as midshipmen and crew handled their parts well.

All hands on deck; you'll not want to miss this triumphal telling of a encompassing tragedy.