Sometimes only the real thing will do. Inspired by a new Salon series and the unbounded creative instincts of director Jonathan Eaton, Opera Theater of Pittsburgh opted not to recreate a theatrical version of a nobleman's palace for its premiere of Georges Bizet's "Djamileh."

Instead the company banked on the opulent splendor of Artifacts, a Pittsburgh antique house in the West End. Outside the entrance, large-scale statuary greeted the guests, who could then peruse the store's impressive art and furniture collections before convening in the oriental rug gallery. There, carpets lined the walls, and stacks of them provided tiered seating for the audience, while the chamber-sized orchestra, led by Walter Morales, sat in the corner. This setting meant giving up a certain amount of resonance for the vocalists and instrumentalists, but the visual impact was priceless.

Eaton also engaged Olivia Kissel and Maria Hamer of Zafira Dance Company to infuse the opera cast with some rudimentary lessons in belly dancing. It was a decision that gave the production an exotic flair as the women, and particularly Cristina Nassif (Djamileh), provided a confident and authentic undulating landscape for Bizet's Middle-Eastern opera.

Nassif emerged as a rare operatic triple threat. Possessed with a vivid mezzo-soprano voice and an authoritative dramatic presence that made the most of a thin story line about a Persian slave girl who pines over the affections of a young nobleman, she was also surprisingly supple, even in a seductive dance trio with Kissel and Hamer.

Eaton, however, was not as authoritative about the time period. Matt Morgan, a Haroun who reached his peak in the more emotional scenes near the end, prowled the stage like a 1920's style gangster (except for the black tee shirt and caftan) and often wielded a pistol.

Daniel Teadt, a nifty Splendiano who was as comfortable with his rich solos as he was with the comic undertones, and Robert Frankenberry, a wily Hassan, head of the harem, also had their zoot-style and Nehru suits covered by caftans. Or was Eaton calling Bizet's luscious melodic lines, all a fitting prelude to "Carmen," timeless?

At any rate, Eaton alluded variously to violence, gender bending (one male member of the harem) and, of course, sexuality in a production where a worthy bit of French opera comique was given a smart, modern and entertaining treatment.