The Adventures of Mr Brouček - Theatre Royal, Newcastle

The Adventures of Mr Brouček
Composer: Leoš Janáček
Conductor: Martin André
Director: John Fulljames
Reviewer: Ian Cain

If your taste in entertainment veers toward the zany, bizarre, surreal or downright nutty, then this is probably the opera for you. Be prepared to suspend your disbelief as you are introduced to Mr Matěj Brouček, a boring and opinionated property landlord and regular drinker at The Vikárka Inn.

The opera is created from two novels; ‘The Excursion of Mr Brouček to the 15th Century’ and ‘The Excursion of Mr Brouček to the Moon.’Brouček is a figure of ridicule at the Inn and his musings are scoffed at and berated by the student clientele - so much so that each night he drowns his sorrows in beer. After an argument about the existence of life on the moon, Brouček falls over and dreams of his theory.

At this point, we are transported to a futuristic society populated by a civilisation that does not eat, but finds nourishment from the scent of flowers. Brouček’s coarse view of women, his ‘cannibalism’ (resulting from a penchant for sausages) and constant reference to his nose offends the inhabitants and he is forced to flee the Moon – though not before we are treated to a musical scene that could easily have been mistaken for a pastiche of a Eurovision Song Contest entry routine!

The following evening, after debating the existence of underground tunnels in Prague, Brouček falls over in the cellar of The Vikárka and his alcohol-induced fantasy sees him transported back to 1420 and into the midst of a terrifying Czech battle. Here, he fares no better than he did on the Moon and ends up being sentenced to death for cowardice.

The humour is almost Monty Python-esque and Brouček is a kind of cross between an operatic Mr Bean and a drunken ‘Doctor Who’, travelling back and forth in time through beer-induced dreams. It’s as brilliant as it is barmy.John Graham-Hall is magnificent as Mr Brouček and, despite the fact that the character is an anti-hero, you do find yourself rooting for the nit-wit. He is supported by a fantastic cast and several are particularly worthy of a mention.

Anne Sophie Duprels, as Málinka had my fellow critics and I convinced that her constant limp was a quirk of the character – in actual fact she had sustained a nasty sprain of the ankle during a fall down a flight of stairs on the Paris Metro system! A trouper, indeed, she gave a vibrant and hugely enjoyable performance despite, undoubtedly, being in a state of considerable discomfort.

Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts, as Mazal, Donald Maxwell, as Wϋrfl, Frances McCafferty, as the Housekeeper, and Jonathan Best, as the Sacristan, all added considerably to the fun and eccentricity of the piece.A true ensemble piece with a large cast and colourful characters, this major production – which is co-produced by Opera North and Scottish Opera – is a wholly enjoyable, if slightly bonkers, experience.

Photos: Alastair Muir

Reviewed at Theatre Royal, Newcastle upon Tyne on Thursday 19th November 2009.

Werther - Theatre Royal, Newcastle

Werther
Writer: Jules Massenet
Conductor: Richard Farnes
Director: Tom Cairns
Reviewer: Ian Cain

For an opera novice, such as myself, Jules Massenet’s ‘Werther’ is the perfect introductory piece. The plot is remarkably uncomplicated, there are no complex sub-plots to try to keep track of and, although it is performed in French, there are English titles provided on screens at each side of the stage. What could be easier or more patron-friendly?

A rarely performed opera, ‘Werther’ is based upon Goethe’s novel, ‘The Sorrows of the Young Werther’ and beautifully staged in a new production, directed by Tom Cairns for Opera North. The story unfolds in an idyllic, pastoral village during the summer. Charlotte (Alice Coote), the eldest daughter of the local magistrate (Donald Maxwell), promised her dying mother that she would raise her brothers and sisters, look after her ageing father, and take charge of the running of the house. Before her untimely death, Charlotte’s mother also found time to indulge in a spot of match-making and has betrothed her daughter to Albert (Peter Savidge) – well, you know what mother’s are like!

Enter Werther (Paul Nilon), an outsider with an impressive reputation and promising prospects, who has been asked by the magistrate to accompany Charlotte to the local ball because Albert is away on business. The pair develop an attraction to each other immediately, but Charlotte reveals that she is to marry Albert upon his return. Werther is devastated.

After a brief interlude to allow for a change of scene, Act Two is set during the autumn. Albert and Charlotte are now married, and in a private moment during the local Pastor’s golden wedding anniversary, he asks her if she is happy. Overhearing this conversation, Werther’s despair deepens at the thought that Charlotte might have been his.

Rather smugly, Albert tells Werther that he understands how lucky he is and how his good fortune is also Werther’s bad luck. Graciously, Werther reassures Albert that his feelings for Charlotte are now strictly platonic, yet he still seeks out Charlotte in an attempt to force her to reveal her true feelings for him. Bound by her overwhelming sense of duty, Charlotte refuses and asks Werther to go away for a while and return at Christmas, believing that the separation will allow them to get over one another. Werther leaves, vowing never to return.

Act Four picks up the story on Christmas Eve. With Albert away again, Charlotte is poring over letters that she has received from Werther during his absence. Her sister, Sophie (Fflur Wyn) visits and is concerned at Charlotte’s distress and persuades her to join the rest of the family for Christmas. After Sophie leaves, Werther returns, pleading Charlotte to confess her love but she resists him once more and he leaves. Shortly after, Albert returns home and demands to know if Werther has visited Charlotte. She is spared having to answer by the interruption of a servant who brings a letter from Werther, asking to borrow Albert’s gun.Charlotte races from the house, hoping to reach Werther in time to declare her love for him and prevent him from taking his life and the story soon reaches its dramatic climax.

‘Werther’ is a stunning piece with much to applaud. Although the dialogue plunges deeply and unashamedly into the realms of hyperbole, it is beautifully poetic and littered with glorious similes and metaphors. The performances are of the highest standard, particularly those of Paul Nilon (playing the title role) and Alice Coote (Charlotte). Indeed, it is difficult to believe that Miss Coote has only recently recovered from a bout of swine flu. It certainly did not show in her performance.

The huge orchestra, conducted by Richard Farnes, sprawls out of the pit and occupies a substantial portion of the stalls, adding to the dramatic impact considerably.Hildegard Bechtler has designed settings that are stunningly simplistic, yet extremely effective and they are exquisitely lit by Charles Balfour. ‘Werther’ is an engaging story of star-crossed lovers that I cannot recommend strongly enough. I loved it!

Photos: Clive Barda
‘Werther’ is at Theatre Royal, Newcastle on Wednesday 18th November and Saturday 21st November 2009.

The Adventures of Mr. Broucek - Lowry Theatre, Salford

The Adventures of Mr. Brouček
Composer: Leoš Janáček
Conductor: Martin Andre
Director: John Fulljames
Reviewer: Lorna Andrewes

Brouček , on first sight, seems to be a very weird opera. It is based on the novels of czech writer Svatopluk Cech, the main protagonist being a most unappealing character : an inebriated small-time property owner with lecherous tendencies, cowardly and without any generous sentiments or any redeeming features. He is of a type often seen in czech literature, a sort of Mr.Bean type (Brouček translates as Mr Beetle)

This is a strongly satirical work in the czech style, with a very self deprecating view of the national psyche .But although not quite uproariously funny to our contemporary sensibilities it is transformed by Janáček into an amusing and compelling music drama with many delightful moments. Opera North has created out of it a bright, stylish and articulate production.

In the first act, a drunken Brouček sung outstandingly by John Graham-Hall, flirts with Malinka - Anne Sophie Duprels - before falling into a drunken stupour and dreaming himself into a moon world where aesthetics are the ruling principles. Brouček's coarseness shocks the inhabitants, who seem to resemble figures in his normal life. Broucek commits umpteen social gaffs and has to flee the moon.

Act two finds Brouček , once more thoroughly inebriated, back in 1420, with a group of czechs preparing to fight against the Holy Roman Empire. He fails to measure up to their courage and determination and after many alarms is relieved to escape with his life to his own time. One has no great hope of his becoming a wiser man as a result!

This opera has been described as being made of rather ill-fitting ingredients, making it difficult to achieve coherence in presentation. If one were, however, to view it as an attempt to escape a disagreeable existence into a more interesting world only to find oneself unsuited to it and therefore become more philosophical about the real world, then the work can be seen with greater clarity.

Though the two 'other' worlds - one a fantastical future and the other a heroic past dramatically bear little eqivalence to each other, they are held together by being peopled by Brouček's associates (though as different characters) from the real world.

The two fantasy worlds are brilliantly realised in this production by the charmingly choreographic treatment of the moon people in the first land(choreograper Ben Wright) and by the dramatic use of the chorus, both visually and musically in the second land of the 1420 siege of Prague. Particlar mention must be made of John Graham-Hall, Jeffrey Lloyd- Roberts, Anne Sophie Duprels and Donald Maxwell, as

Brouček

, Mazal, Malinka and Wurfl, whose performances shone even in such excellent company.

The visual and musical dynamics were beautifully married together in this masterly production. Right from the first bars of the overture one knows that this is a production to be enjoyed.

Photos: Alastair Muir

The Adventures of Mr. Brouček is on tour more info click here

Werther - Lowry Theatre, Salford

Werther
By Jules Massenet
Conductor: Richard Farnes,
Director: Tom Cairns
Reviewer: Ruth Lovett

Premiering in 1892 and not performed by Opera North since 1982, the Lowry welcomes back this classic production in eager anticipation. This delightful French opera with English subtitles is a key piece in the Opera North’s current program visiting the Lowry this week.

Werther tells the story of Werther, a new-comer to town who falls in love almost instantly with the Magistrate’s daughter, Charlotte who has been looking after the untimely death of her mother. Werther is instantly transfixed by Charlotte and the love and tenderness she showed her siblings and confesses his lover for her after the ball however Charlotte revealed that she is betrothed to Albert, who her mother wished her to marry before her death and everyone is happy and excited to see Albert return except Werther who is devastated by the news.

Charlotte and Albert marry as planned and Albert and Werther discuss how Albert’s happiness has come about at the expense of Werther’s misery. Werther states that his feelings towards Charlotte are friendship and extends friendship to Albert. Charlotte’s sister, Sophie interrupts them and demands the first dance with Werther and it is clear that she feels more than just friendship to him. Charlotte will not admit how she truly feels for Werther and asks him to leave but return on Christmas Eve but Werther knows that hew cannot live without Charlotte and would rather die than be without her. Werther returns on Christmas Eve but how the evening where the piece reaches its dramatic climax.

The set although basic works perfectly for setting the scene and allowing the performers to make maximum use of the stage and the setting for Act Four is particularity effective and accentuates the performance very well. There are occasional issues with the sound quality although these are few and far between and undoubtedly due to the size of the venue rather than weaknesses in performance or an over-zealous orchestra. The direction (Tom Cairns) helps make the piece feel somewhat contemporary without overindulging in unnecessary theatrics.

Particular praise must be given to Paul Nilon (Werther) and Alice Coote (Charlotte – recovering from swine flu) who both perform with such passion and conviction that it is hard not to become swept along with the story and feel emotionally connected to the characters and the final Act rally portrays the quality of both performers’ voices. There are no weak links amongst the cast and the entire performance is highly skilled and well rehearsed.

Werther is a real theatrical pleasure, dramatic and bold, romantic with over-tones of pathos with some outstanding performances, this production is a treat for Opera novices and experienced audience members alike. Massent’s music is a real treat, stirring and evocative, passionate and descriptive, this is a performance which should really not be missed.

Photos: Clive Barda

Wether is at the Lowry on Saturday 14 November 2009 and on tour more info click here

Cosi Fan Tutte - Lowry Theatre, Salford

Cosi fan Tutte

By Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Conductor: Justin Doyle
Director: Tim Albery
Reviewer: Lorna Andrewes

Cosi fan Tutte is the presentation of a complex and compelling moral tale. Don Alfonso, sung by Geoffrey Dolton,wagers with two young friends, Ferrando - Alan Clayton, and Gugliemo - Quirjin de Lang, that even their devoted lovers can be easily persuaded to betray them.In his plan, Don Alfonso is assisted by the girls' maid, Despina - Amy Freston.

Fiordiligi - Elizabeth Atherton, and Dorabella - Victoria Simmonds, ultimately fall, to the delight of Don Alfonso and the despair of the lovers. This is essentially more an opera for ensemble work than for individual stars, The narrative was performed with great pace and energy by this superb group of singers.

The intensity of the action is concentrated by being enclosed by the classical vistas of time and space. There is no outside world, no mediation from a higher authority or extraneous event. Everything comes from within the thoughts and feelings of the six characters.

The ensemble nature of the work is well served by this well-matched group of singers. The austere elegance of Tobias Hoheisel's set - a box within the stage -is enhancing and effective. The emotional centre of the work is the beginning of Act 2, when the moral argument becomes moral anguish, expressed with touching eloquence and pathos by Elizabeth Atherton as Fiordiligi and Alan Clayton as Ferrando.

The clarity of the libretto (translator, alas, not acknowledged in the programme), was beautifully articulated. No bit parts, nothing incidental or diverting. Nicely emphasised in the programme diagram, the relationships, symetrical and diamondlike, just as this production is both visually and musically brilliant and sparkling.

Photos: Tristram Kenton

Cosi Fan Tutte is on tour for more info click here

L’Amour de loin – English National Opera at London Coliseum

L’Amour de loin (Love From Afar) by Kaija Saariaho

Libretto by Amin Maalouf

Director: Daniele Finzi Pasca

Conductor: Edward Gardner
Reviewer: Mark Valencia

ENO is ending its strongest season in years with the UK première of this Finnish oddity from 2000. Music Director Edward Gardner is behind the project to bring it to London, and with his outstanding track record he’s more than earned the right to follow his nose. Whether audiences will tag along too is another matter, but at least they’re getting a bargain chance to make up their own minds because every seat at the Coliseum is being sold at a generous £20.

The oddest thing of all about L’Amour de loin is Saariaho’s choice of material. Most composers would kill for a Salzburg Festival commission, and if they were to land one their substance of choice would probably be theatrical red meat. Not Saariaho, though. She opts for a semi-static examination of courtly love, played out by a cast of just three singers in a shimmering, constant aural landscape.

The plot takes moments to explain yet two and a half hours to unfold onstage. Jaufré Rudel, the prince of Blaye in French Aquitaine, falls in love with an idealised notion of woman. He admits this phantom infatuation to a travelling Pilgrim who tells him, wonder of wonders, that during his travels he has met this very woman, in Tripoli. She is the Countess Clémence. The Pilgrim vouchsafes Jaufré’s secret to the Countess herself, then returns to Blaye (more ferryman than pilgrim, this Pilgrim) and escorts the languishing lad to meet his love. Alas for Jaufré, during the voyage to Tripoli he falls ill and, on arrival, he barely has time to meet his beloved before dying in her arms.

Saariaho’s anti-dramatic score is at once fascinating and frustrating. She makes no attempt to characterise any of the three protagonists through music, so the result is more tone poem than opera. It could have been hypnotic in the manner of, say, Pelléas et Mélisande, but the bleached and purified orchestral colours merely slow-release Amin Maalouf’s tale dose by homeopathic dose. Such refined, understated music offers challenging raw materials for any director, while for a theatrical visionary (like Peter Sellars, whose Finnish production is available on DG DVD) its very restraint may be the trigger that excites the creative impulse.

For this new staging, ENO has recruited Cirque de Soleil’s Daniele Finzi Pasca to direct. If that prompts expectations of busy fly galleries and extensive use of billowing silk, you’re right; but alas even Pasca fails to crack this theatrical nut. He triples the cast size by adding two acrobats to every singer and giving them lots of physical business to do, but to little purpose. His production is like a slo-mo Cirque show: beautiful to look at, expensively kitted out, fabulously lit, empty. Surprisingly, he fails to inject any trace of wit or humour into the evening, as though Saariaho’s filigree score forbade it. Perhaps it does. Such attempts at levity as there are (a tedious pair of shadow-puppeteers pop in from time to time) fall flat, and the only laughs to be had are unintentional. Chortle at the Pilgrim’s costume and its comedy sleeves! Chuckle as the bungee-bouncing Countess plays peek-a-boo upstage!
The production’s sound world is immaculate. Gardner’s three singers have mastered every nuance of what must have been a fiendish piece to learn, yet they are at one with each other and with the on-form ENO Orchestra. Roderick Williams is astonishingly good as Jaufré Rudel – his timbre is magnificent these days – and he even comes close to achieving characterisation, which is some feat in this opera. Joan Rodgers is a commanding Clémence, and if her voice is a little strident at times it gives a welcome kick to the pervading serenity. As the Pilgrim the American mezzo Faith Sherman is cruelly decked out like Gandalf’s gonk, but she sings with power and vocal warmth.

It’s worth a £20 punt to catch one of the three remaining performances, and it’ll do wonders for your blood pressure if you do. For all its faults L’Amour de loin offers beauty and tranquillity, and it will wash over you like a cloud of Pasca’s silk. You’ll find yourself becalmed, bemused and possibly beguiled by it.

Photos: Johan Persson

L'Amour de loin runs at the London Coliseum, 3rd to 11th July 2009 (4 performances)

Jenufa - English National Opera

Jenufa by Janacek
Translators: Otakar Kraus & Edward Downes
Director: David Alden
Conductor: Elvind Galberg Jenson
Reviewer: Crystal Alonsi

Another triumph for the ENO! Don't be dismayed by the beginning of the first Act---your perseverance will be rewarded! Amanda Roocraft in the title role, made a somewhat hesitant start, seeming slightly overawed by her surroundings, and I did wonder whether or not she would be able to last the whole evening. However, this subdued beginning soon vanished in a glorious, confident flood of sound.

The opening scene in a bleak, strangely silent Eastern European factory did not bode well for the evening. The treasured and portentous Rosemary plant, whose progress or lack of was reportedly so pivotal to the happiness of the main characters, looked remarkably un-Rosemary like from where I was sitting. It might seem like a very minor point, but as it spent a long time front centre stage being sung over at considerable length, it would have been good if props had managed to rustle up the genuine article.

Likewise, why did Laca (Robert Brubaker), who gave a magnificently controlled and powerful rendition of his singing role give such little thought to his acting? For a large part of the opening scene he aimlessly fidgeted with two long metal bars. Five minutes spent watching a genuine welder would have given him more than enough information on which to base this piece of stage business, transforming it into meaningful activity rather than an irritating and pointless distraction.

Janacek’s opera is unusual in that it largely consists of dialogue accompanied by music to produce a musical play based on real events, enhanced by sympathetic, beautifully crafted music. The young Norwegian conductor Eivind Jensen gave himself over completely to his task. He took the music along at a good pace; Janacek can sometimes wallow, but he brought out the voluptuous lyricism of the violin in Act two; the tender longing in the music contrasted sharply with the bleak, distorted set.

Amanda Roocraft did justice to Janacek’s work, singing and acting with convincing sensitivity. Her lively enthusiasm with Jano, the shepherd boy, (Julia Sporsen) the youngster she has taught to read, was engaging, and a powerful metaphor for her own situation. Here was Jenufa, the educator, the one who leads out, nevertheless completely tied by her own circumstances and stifling surroundings. Having been taught to read, Jano wants to learn to write, yet his teacher, Jenufa, cannot convey her own feelings. Her protégé has a whole new world to explore, but before long, Jenufa is confined for five months to virtual captivity in just two rooms, Jenufa is shown as a sympathetic supportive friend even to the underdog.

Love in its many forms is the key to the drama in this opera. Laca represents unrequited love, Steva demonstrates lust and narcissism masquerading as love. Kostelnicka, the stepmother’s love is mostly for herself and her own pride. Having fallen for the blandishments of fickle, self-centred, drunken and feckless Steva, Jenufa has given herself in love to him then finds herself pregnant and therefore desperate to marry, to avoid shame and censure. Ignoring the advances of Steva’s, jealous stepbrother Laca, who in desperate and uncharacteristic pique cuts her face, Jenufa tries to persuade Steva to marry her.

Kostelnicka (Micaela Martins) gave a commanding portrayal of Jenufa’s stepmother who; consumed by fear, feels driven to murder as the only way of preventing public humiliation. She justifies her actions by claiming to have love for her stepdaughter and a desire to protect her honour. Her accent swerved from American through English to Irish somewhat disconcertingly throughout a powerful, brooding performance.

The use of shadows in Act Two gave the air of a Hitchcock or Ridley Scott film. At one point Jenufa is pleading with Kostelnicka, who is some distance upstage, but her stepmother’s shadow, misshapen and menacing almost touches Jenufa and the door to the room where her precious, doomed baby sleeps.

In the last scene, as surrealistically the walls part and the villagers advance, tension rises as the finger of blame points inexorably at Jenufa until finally in a passionate outburst Kostelnicka dramatically admits to the baby’s murder. The opera closes a Jenufa, rising above all the agony, turmoil and grief of her past, decides to forgive her stepmother and commit herself to Laca, whose love and loyalty offer the hope of a new life and happiness together.

All in all it was an inspiring end to a magnificent evening!

Photos: Robert Workman

Jenufa runs at the ENO until March 23rd (5 performances)

Dr Atomic - English National Opera

Doctor Atomic
Music: John Adams
Libretto: Peter Sellers
Director: Penny Woolcock
Conductor: Lawrence Renes
Reviewer: Honour Bayes

Concerning the last days and hours leading up to the first test of the atomic bomb, or ‘Gadget’ as the members of the Manhattan Project somewhat endearingly called it, Doctor Atomic focuses on the great stress and anxiety experienced by those at Los Alamos while the "Trinity" test was being prepared; ending on the iconic moment when the ‘Gadget’ exploded expectations and a new world age was entered.

Composed by the contemporary minimalist John Adams with libretto by Peter Sellers this is a deeply faithful piece of work, with the language being pulled mainly from source material including personal memoirs, government documents, recorded interviews and technical manuals of nuclear physics. As a result this opera is a somewhat lumbering beast, with Adam’s initially staccato score only making the heavily worded exchanges all the more disengaging. A deeply Brechtian concept, this distance allows practical understanding from the audience but at first does not encourage us to engage with the personal stories being told. The natural rhythm and pace of conversation seems too fast for Seller’s dense style and this is not aided by Adam’s repetitious, vertically linear note sequences.

But we were not to be as doomed as the Manhattan Project team themselves. Interspersed within this forest of scientific technical fodder oases of feeling and poetry begin to spring up in the form of soliloquies and choral pieces taken directly from sources such as the Bhagavad-Gita and the poetry of John Donne and Charles Baudelaire (a favourite of Oppenheimer). These transport one into an emotional understanding of the God like beauty and terror at work in the atomic creation. At these moments the layering which has been building up in Adam’s composition becomes at its most intense and an environment is created which crackles with electricity as each instrument plays unique moments whilst at once performing as a cohesive whole. It is now that this opera takes flight, creating questions and images in one’s mind which stay at the forefront for long after.

Film director Penny Woolcock’s first foray into the realms of stage performance combine a cinematic touch through the naturalistic and intimate performances of her leads with a blatantly theatrical mise-en-scene, in a production which elegantly reveals the psychologies of this terrible work and those who became caught up in its machinery. Julian Crouch’s setting with its haunted peaks of fabric and periodic table towers has one compartment for each of the chorus with Japanese style roll down screens for each square container. These speak volumes on their own whilst also forming the perfect back drop for Fifty-Nine Productions’ (Mark Grimer and Leo Warner) inspired video design which mixes sensual moments of seductive shimmering cloth with darkly cartoonish storm clouds and rain.
Against this smoothly eclectic background the leads within this piece are universally powerful; Sasha Cooke’s richly sensual Kitty Oppenheimer, Brindley Sherratt’s booming and wry Edward Teller and Jonathan Veira’s pompously humorous General Leslie Groves are of particular note.

But at the heart of this piece is the performance of Gerald Finley in the role of J Robert Oppenheimer. With effortless fluidity Finley’s melodic and pure baritone voice transports his feeling throughout the Coliseum, drawing all into Oppenheimer’s fall from assured proud excitement to tight grief as, in the eclipse like shadow of his bomb, he begins to awaken to the full potential of his creation crying ‘Batter my heart, three-person’d God’. This is a tour de force moment of operatic composition with score, libretto, performance and setting leaving a blinding imprint on the mind of every person who lives under the shadow of atomic war fare today.

Doctor Atomic is a piece which begins weakly and gains in strength, as we are taken from the repetitive and distancing conversational first act to the spiritually searching final moments. A slow burner, it may not represent the momentum with which scientists go gung ho into the fray but what it loses in pace, it gains in longevity. This is an opera which will leave a lasting impression on those who see it and its repercussions will be felt for a long time to come; something that could be said of the ‘Gadget’ itself.

Photos: Catherine Ashmore
Dr Atomic runs at the ENO until March 20th 2009 (9 performances)

La Bohème – ENO at London Coliseum

La Bohème by Giacomo Puccini
Libretto: Giacosa and Illica
Reviewer: Mark Valencia

It’s been a long wait, but Jonathan Miller has finally made it back into the Coliseum with this new production of Puccini’s tearjerker. His lengthy exile from St Martin’s Lane has been especially baffling considering the longevity of his ENO Mikado and Rigoletto, not to mention a superlative Turn of the Screw (recently superseded but still unsurpassed). Trendy, untried opera directors have come and gone from the house in recent years, leaving behind a trail of unrevivable detritus, and I can only imagine that the embarrassment of recent flops has prompted the house management to bring back Dr Miller’s trusted, tried and tested pair of hands for their new Bohème. A wise move, for when it comes to audience-friendly repertoire any repeat of last year’s car-crash Carmen would have done lasting damage to the company.

La Bohème tells the romantic tale of Rodolfo, a struggling poet who starves elegantly in a Parisian garret until the right girl comes along in the shape of Mimi, she of the frozen extremities. Alas, their love is doomed as Mimi succumbs to consumption amid the winter chill.

On paper it’s a wretched little story, but Puccini’s yearning, fractured melodies propel the emotion with remarkable economy and conciseness, and with an exquisite comedy counterpoint to the pervading misery in the sub-plot of Rodolfo’s fiery friends, Musetta and Marcello.

Despite a strong cast, Miller’s direction is more persuasive in the comedy than the tragedy. Roland Wood and Hanah Alattar are so outstanding both vocally and dramatically as the duelling amorosi that they eclipse the passionless Mimi and Rodolfo of Melody Moore and Alfie Boe. The lovers’ vapidity is not entirely the singers’ fault: Miller’s concern for visual style means that he rarely allows the unhappy couple to make eye contact so, as far as the audience is concerned, love’s bolt is never shot. Boe woos Moore from behind her chair when he should be gazing into her baby blues; and later, out in the snow, the two stand side by side and slightly apart for an exchange where only face to face would do. It’s hard to care about the lovers’ plight when we’re denied the visible evidence that they do actually love each other.

The stunning, semi-monochrome Paris imagined by Isabelle Bywater is thrilling in its atmosphere and versatility, but her designs do conceal a problem. More than half the action of La Bohème takes place up in that famous attic room; however, this is so cramped and placed so high on the stage that there is no space for the kind of directorial panache the music demands. Worse, even from the dress circle the Coliseum acoustic is not kind to voices produced from way above floor level, and Miguel Hartha-Bedoya’s excellent orchestra tends to swamp the singers during the outer acts of the opera. Too often Alfie Boe’s mellifluous tenor is so engulfed by Puccini’s orchestral waves that he is barely audible.

For all its faults this rich, subtly updated La Bohème is a treat that should pay its way in years to come. It has all the makings an ENO favourite; it just needs a touch of directorial unbuttoning, and perhaps a few stentorian voices to help it along,

Photos: Tristram Kenton
La Bohème runs until the 8th March

The Magic Flute, ENO - London Coliseum

The Magic Flute by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Libretto: Emanuel Schikaneder

Original Director: Nicholas Hytner

Conductor: Erik Nielsen
Reviewer: Mark Valencia

In the late eighties Nicholas Hytner emerged as the golden boy of British theatre. In particular a trio of opulent productions from that period – a play at the National, a musical in the West End and an opera for ENO – garnered huge audiences, long runs and reviews to die for. The play was Alan Bennett’s dramatisation of The Wind in the Willows; the musical was Miss Saigon. Yet, of the three, only the opera survives in its original state, or something very like it. And why not? After all, Hytner’s is a magic Flute.

This richly entertaining production first saw the light of day in March 1988 and now, 13 revivals on, it has joined Rigoletto and The Mikado as one of ENO’s most reliable cash cows. This will come as no surprise to anyone who caught it in a previous outing: Hytner’s imaginatively joyous staging, complemented by Bob Crowley’s sizzling set and costume designs, raises smiles and spirits in equal measure. This Flute is feel-good opera. All it needs to hit the spot are good musical direction and a strong cast.

If you don’t know the plot of Schikaneder’s tale, it’s a bit of a mess but here goes. Outwardly nice Queen of the Night sends guileless Tamino (hero) to rescue her beautiful daughter Pamina (heroine) from the clutches of outwardly nasty Sarastro, her enemy. But appearances of nice and nasty can be deceptive, as hero and heroine grow to realise by the opera’s end. After two or three hours of quests, jests and tests, good triumphs over evil and we go home happy.

Ian Rutherford takes the revival reins for Flute 14 and he brings out all the visual wit and sprightliness of Hytner’s original. Such shortcomings as there are reside in the poor delivery of spoken dialogue by certain players (though emphatically not by the Sarastro of Robert Lloyd, that great basso profundo whose voice still rips your guts despite his having reached an age when most singers wobble by the wayside). Sarah-Jane Davies as Pamina is fine when she sings, but with the spoken word she falls short. Likewise, variously, the members of the ENO Chorus. As for Roderick Williams’s athletic, show-stealing Papageno, bird-catcher and comic relief, his otherwise bravura performance is compromised by a habit of leaping from oo-arr bumpkin to RP baritone whenever he stops speaking and starts singing. I cannot imagine Hytner sanctioning such jarring inconsistency.

The ENO Orchestra plays with idiomatic finesse under the baton of Erik Nielsen, who makes an auspicious house début, and the evening as a whole reaches the highest musical standards. Its delights are enhanced by Jeremy Sams’s witty translation, even though the unavoidable ENO surtitles remove all spontaneity and make his careful word-setting read like close-rhymed doggerel.

This free translation allows Sams and Hytner to dispense with the ticklish racial problem inherent in the role of Monostatos. As portrayed by Stuart Kale he is a creepy clown with a comb-over, more Ko-Ko than the would-be rapist who so wickedly abuses his status as overseer of the masonic temple.

That pinpoints a problem with this production: it’s a cartoon. Crowley’s designs may echo the neo-classical-meets-Egyptian mood of the original, but against this canvas Hytner simply has fun. In a world where all the perils are two-dimensional there are no real wounds to be healed by the spirit boys, exquisitely sung as they are by Charlie Manton, Harry Manton and Louis Watkins. Emily Hindrichs, for all her coloratura stratospherics, is more Morticia Addams than Queen of the Night, and Amanda Forbes’s Papagena is a comedy-breasted tea lady. Only Sarastro, Pamina and Tamino (a noble-voiced Robert Murray) escape with dignity intact.

What churlish analysis. Let us sweep aside such cavils and wish this joyous production a happy 21st birthday. Over the years it has opened countless hearts to the wonders of Mozart and been a major force for good in a dumb, dirty world. Here’s to the next 13 revivals.

Photos: Richard H Smith
London Coliseum, 24th January to 26th February 2009 (9 performances)

Riders to the Sea - ENO

Riders to the Sea by Vaughn Williams

Director: Fiona Shaw

Reviewer: Crystal Alsonsi

Whoever had the original flash of genius to merge Luonnotar and Riders to the Sea is to be warmly congratulated.

The ENO production of Luonnotar, a tone poem, by Sibelius presented a darkly atmospheric version of a Finnish creation myth. The part of the eponymous heroine was sung with such grief and raw anguish by soprano Susan Gritton that it made this a very moving performance. The striking set presented the audience with an imaginatively conceived back projection below the waves filmed in rich greens and blues that gradually zoomed in to reveal minute sea life as seeds of creation, glimpses of hair and a swimming horse as harbingers of a doom to come. Luonnotar stood in a fishing barque suspended vertically above the stage, her flowing costume tumbling to the stage 20’ feet below redolent of a winding sheet and a Christening robe. However as the piece progressed and Luonnotar disrobed, the costume disintegrated both in structure and in power to reveal a skin toned unflattering knee length shift. Having expended yards and yards of fabric on the over garment it was a shame that this skimpy garb could not have extended to Susan Gritton’s ankles making a far more graceful spectacle. Fortunately her voice more than over came such distractions and made the performance of this enigmatic piece a rare treat.

Luonnotar merged seamlessly with a bridging passage by John Woolrich into Riders to the Sea, a dark and brooding piece by Ralph Vaughan Williams. From the opening minutes when we saw Carthleen furtively washing herself, a role admirably played by Kate Valentine, echoing the birth narrative of Luonnotar we realised that Fiona Shaw’s cinematic experience would bring an exciting attention to detail.

The orchestra was ably conducted by Edward Gardner, stepping into the chasm left by the tragically early death of Richard Hickox. Patricia Bardon (Maurya) provided particularly vibrant, emotionally laden singing. Madeleine Shaw (‘A Woman’) gave a well observed, albeit brief performance. Leigh Melrose as Bartley and Claire Booth as Nora sang spirited roles.

The setting on a naturalistic rock outcrop on the Arran coast was wonderfully crafted with a rectangle of light delineating the croft and a back projection of billowing surging clouds evoking the underwater scenes of Luonnotar, the preceding work.

By the end of the performance it was quite hard to make out what was happening on the stage; bringing the lights up just a step or two would have enhanced the drama making the performers more visible whilst not detracting from the spiritual and emotional darkness evoked by the music and the words.

One thing unfortunately that just would not disappear was the miraculous self-supporting ladder that appeared early in the piece like a latter-day Indian rope trick almost central on the stage. For a family who are portrayed as so utterly impoverished the ownership of this brightly glinting piece of equipment seemed incongruous and jarring.

Riders to the Sea presents us with an account of grief and loss. The turning cycle of life is universal and painfully appropriate in the first few wrenching days following Richard Hickox’ sudden death. The emotionally wrenching journey of the conjoined works was so totally involving that I felt the brevity of the evening was a mercy. This is Fiona Shaw’s first operatic directorship; please may it not be her last.

Photos: Clive Barda

Boris Godunov - ENO

Boris Godunov by Musorgsky

Translation: David Lloyd-Jones

Director: Tim Albery

Conductor: Edward Gardner

Reviewer: Jeffrey Mayhew

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That ENO’s Boris Godunov was very good without, except at moments, being brilliant, is probably more to do with the choice of score – the original 1869 version – and the relatively minimalist setting rather than any inadequacies in the cast, music or direction.

It is probably inevitable that both Rimsky-Korsakov’s rescoring and classic Russian visual images in the style of Ivan Bilibin inextricably colour our perception of this opera. To me the interpretation was very much of Pushkin's text as much as Mussorgsky’s opera - digging deep into the parallels between the late sixteenth century reign of Boris and Pushkin’s own, early nineteenth century experiences. Pushkin had clashed with the government and wrote Boris in the inevitably ensuing exile. The opera, in turn, proved controversial. In this current interpretation there are clear references to immediately pre-revolutionary Russia - caped officers in white, Volga boatmen style peasants, echoes of the Winter Palace steps via Eisenstein, photos of the last Tsar and his family. So it was rather intellectual and "careful" – nothing wrong with that in itself but maybe not what you think it says (or should say) on the tin.

The concept served the opening moments wonderfully - a huge, timber, barn-like box set with half lit, grey clad peasants harangued by the clergy and hounded by the military was real Lower Depths stuff. Later when, with rather overtly economical touches (like the lowering of a single lamp, or tipping in a little gold chair), it had to serve as a courtyard, a monastic cell, an inn or a palace it did seem to feel a bit stretched. Tobias Hoheisel’s design was fine as far as it went – and it was stunningly lit by Adam Silverman – but there were times, especially when trying to follow changes of time and place, when that didn’t seem quite far enough. The costumes, by Brigitte Reiffenstuel, were beautifully faithful to the concept and looked wonderful en masse. Again, though, knowledge of the show (or a good read of the programme before curtain up) is good idea – there is a lot of black and grey!

Given all that Tim Albery gave us a fine production with little recourse to levels but yet still delivering some stunning crowd scenes – and that crowd can certainly sing! Singing is where we are at though. Whilst Peter Rose (Boris) could be seen to be perhaps over restrained at times he nevertheless gives the performance appropriate to the conception and with some stunning vocal moments and real presence. All the rest of the cast are excellent, too, with some fine acting as well as singing from John Graham-Hall as Shuisky and Robert Murray as the Holy Fool. This is a very male piece but Yvonne Howard needs especial mention as the innkeeper and Sophie Bevan as Xenia. For me (but this is inevitably subjective) the evenings honours went to Bridley Sherratt as Pimen with a voice and presence worthy of Chaliapin himself.

Edward Gardner made the most of this very different scoring achieving some sublime moments during Boris’s descent into madness. This is a very good production of what it is, as it were. Where it might seem to fall short for some is when what is isn’t becomes a problem.

Photos: Clive Barder

Aida - English National Opera

Aida by Verdi

English National Opera

Director: Jo Davies

Conductor: Gerard Korsten

Reviewer: Jeffrey Mayhew

In many ways a logical starting point for a considered review by a member of the public is whether, putting aside personal taste and minor caveats, the production in question is to be recommended – whether it is worth the money and effort to go and see. In the case of ENO’s Aida there is no doubt that it is. If you like your opera grand, in a certain way, and can run with the slight unease with the content that changing times and fashions bring then you are in for a good night out. There is absolutely no doubt at all that this production makes for fabulous radio. Rarely have I heard such a brilliant matched set of singers – it takes the stamina of the vicar in the village hall to painstakingly note the contribution of each and every performer. Nevertheless (and despite our indulgence being craved for coughs and colds – clearly the British cold is losing its virulence!) Claire Rutter has to be celebrated as a ravishing Aida with a beautiful voice used with subtlety and intelligence. John Hudson as Radames was sung with power and assurance giving a highly satisfying pairing. There are many joys still to come, though. Matthew Best as the high priest, Ramfis, was truly superb – an “old fashioned” singer with tones reminiscent of Kipnes. His Hans Sachs will be worth a trip to see. Jane Dutton combined power with grace and subtlety as Amneris and Iain Paterson displayed a warm, flexible bass-baritone as Amonasro, Aida’s father. The run also marks Gwynne Howell’s 40th Anniversary with ENO though his Pharaoh showed no signs of wear and tear – another vocal treat. Add in superb chorus work and ravishing sounds from the pit (Gérard Korsten) and it can easily be seen why the whole thing makes for a highly satisfying musical experience.

It all worked pretty well on stage too. Lots of colour, a very clever elephant substitute, wonderful dancers and breathtaking tumblers. It did seem, however, that some of the design elements were better on paper than when realised – especially the costumes, which whilst striking and sort of Egyptian, sometimes seemed not to do the people inside them much in the way of favours. The setting, too, was not always helpful in what is, after all, very much a three or four hander with occasional casts of hundreds. The apologia in the programme intellectually addresses the issues of colonialism, post-colonialism, the concept of “exotic” and worthily so on and so forth but ironically the stage picture did not seem to follow these reflections through. Particularly bizarre was the treatment of the Ethiopians who looked liked something to be “manfully” resisted by someone from a 1920s Boy’s Own Annual – perhaps an irony? I hope so. There were times, then, when the still, small voice asked what it was all really about – and there is still enough in the story (family and country loyalty, love and betrayal) to make it meaningful – and what we were all really there for. But then the lights change, the set moves, the singers sing and the band plays and it’s all lovely.

Photos by Alastair Muir

Partenope - English National Opera

Partenope by Handel
English National Opera
Directed by Christoper Alden
Reviewed by Kimberly Knudsen

From the very beginning of the performance, as a photographer appears on stage and takes a picture of the audience, we are aware that we are in for something far removed from Handel’s original comic opera from 1730. In the programme notes we are told that the inspiration for the production comes from the Surrealists and their views of love and desire and how ‘the forces of feeling overturn the artificiality of relationships’ putting desire at the centre.

Director Christopher Alden has taken this tale of love and all its complications far from the composer’s original setting in the mists of Greek mythology and transplanted it to Paris in the 1920s. The setting is a salon where parties, card games and cocktails are the norm, at the centre of it all is Partenope, very obviously the queen of this social circle.

As Partenope, Rosemary Joshua presents us with a character who clearly revels in the attention she receives from Arsace. With a grace and style to her movement as befits the 1920s setting, and with a wonderfully strong and clear voice she makes it abundantly clear why men would fall for her, much like the siren the character was originally based on. Christine Rice is outstanding as Arsace, clearly still in love with his former betrothed Rosmira but also in love with Partenope. She is instantly believable in the role and copes marvelously with the demands of Handel’s score. Partenope’s rival in battle Emilio, sung by John Mark Ainsley, is presented as a Man Ray like photographer who flits between the characters revealing their inner selves through photography. As in the Handel original, he is the catalyst for all of the action. Iestyn Davies as the weak willed, but ultimately successful in love Armindo, brings a richness of voice to the role in a very assured performance. Patricia Bardon as Rosmira/Eurimene seemed to enjoy the challenges that come with the female/male role and sang with a richness and clarity which shone through.

The remaining cast member ENO young singer James Gower in the role of Ormonte showed promise and should soon be stepping up to some meatier roles. Amanda Holden’s translation may offend some with its modern approach but it certainly provided much laughter and made the action easy to follow. The orchestra, skillfully conducted by Christian Curnyn, and featuring some wonderful period instruments such as the theorbo, kept the pace lively and entertaining throughout, doing justice to Handel’s score.

The cast were warmly applauded at the end of the performance, however there were some boos when the production team joined them on stage. Perhaps the purists in the audience did not take to the setting of Act 2 with a toilet as the centerpiece? However the overall effect was wonderful and made for a thoroughly entertaining evening.

The Barber of Seville

The Barber of Seville by Rossini
English National Opera
Review by Crystal Alonsi

Wow! What a delight------a thoroughly enjoyable performance.

Rossini’s music greets you warmly like an old friend as you recognise tunes and themes. The first scene, set on an Italian street presented like a faded watercolour, is simple yet effective at establishing the view of Dr. Bartolo’s house. In this first scene there were a few uncomfortable moments, as the orchestra seemed slightly over-powering but thankfully this tendency was overcome as the piece continued.

There was such energy and enthusiasm coming from the stage. The cast played for every laugh that was available. From the first ripple of giggles that went through the audience as a ten foot ladder came out of a small wooden chest in the first few minutes of the performance, through the general hilarity as Dr.Bartolo explored every possible piece of comic business as he sought to disentangle himself from the piano.Every humorous angle was exploited to great effect and it was a pleasure to be in an audience that really laughed. There were a few niggles though.

Having gone to all the trouble and expense of installing a surtitling system it was frustrating that Rosina was not translated in her Italian aria and we were not given any clues as to the meaning of her words, which would have added to the enjoyment of the scene. The change of scenery from the fist to second act was painful to see and hear as the stage jerked, shuddered, clicked and staggered into place while from above descended, uncertainly a long cloth over short poles. The draped ceiling fabric was not quite even and it needed to be tweaked to achieve perfect symmetry or re-arranged for deliberate a-symmetry. The careless, untidy effect spoiled the otherwise elegant scenery and was at odds with the perfect diction and performances beneath it.

The costumes were a mixed bunch. Worst of all, Berta’s costume looked like a reject from the ‘Hansel and Gretel’. Everything jarred and it was amazing she was able to sing as beautifully as she did in such a discordant costume. Her voice seemed to warm up and develop through the evening. Maybe it took her a little time to get over the shock of being squeezed into such a ghastly outfit that clashed with everything every time she appeared. The soldiers all had bright splotches of red over their cheeks making them look like escapees from the ‘Nut Cracker’. Rosina, having been dressed originally in a very fetching very pink pale pink dress eventually appeared in an extraordinary pale grey outfit smothered in overlarge silver sequins so that the total effect was that of a rather cheap Christmas fairy doll. Fortunately she had a beautiful voice which was confident at both extremes of her range and she triumphed over the non-descript appearance of her dresses.

Count Almaviva, when still in disguise, wore a perfectly respectable dark purple cloak, however, on transformation he was wearing such a pale grey outfit that he all but disappeared into the background. Don Basilio costumes were all together more successful with a slightly captain hook appearance and a rounded, easy bass voice. He held the stage comfortably. What brought particular joy to the evening was the strength of all the characters’ singing ability. No one let the side down by not quite reaching the mark. They could all act and were not afraid to do so and they brought an exuberance, confidence and energy to the performance that was received with great enthusiasm by a very receptive audience.

Photos by Alisatair Muir

Lucia Di Lammermoor - ENO

Lucia di Lammermoor – by Donizetti
English National Opera at London Coliseum
16th February 2008 (8 performances)
Reviewed by Mark Valencia

Hard on the heels of the Royal Opera’s triumphant staging of La Fille du Régiment, ENO has mounted what is, astonishingly, their first ever production of Donizetti’s masterpiece. In so doing they have assembled a first rate cast under former company musical director Paul Daniel and controversial stage director David Alden.

The big attraction in any production of Lucia is the casting of the doomed lovers, Edgardo and Lucia, even though they only share one scene in the entire opera. It would be hard to imagine a finer pairing than Barry Banks and the American coloratura soprano Anna Christy. Miss Christy, who had been suffering from bronchitis before the first night, has a youthfulness and vulnerability that are ideally suited to the role, and her tonal beauty and musicianship are impeccable. The after-effects of illness may have left her voice the odd decibel short – and there was a palpable tension before the high notes in her extended mad scene – but this remains a formidable reading of the role. For all that Alden’s pitiless direction pulls her about, requiring her to sing prone, upside down or contorted like plasticine, Christy’s vocal control remains supreme.

The opera is cast from strength throughout, and on opening night even bass-baritone Paul Whelan, singing from the side while an indisposed Clive Bayley mimed his fine portrayal of Raimondo, could hardly be bettered. Mark Stone’s cruel Enrico is beautifully characterised while Banks’s Edgardo, ludicrously bekilted like one of Mel Gibson’s Braveheart warriors, sings quite radiantly.

As so often with today’s ENO, the singers find themselves pitted against a director’s Big Concept. David Alden’s brand of lumbering expressionism won’t be to everyone’s taste; he doesn’t do subtle. His basic premise is undeniably persuasive: by advancing Donizetti’s (and Sir Walter Scott’s) action by 80 years he is able to mine a rich vein of Victorian values – genteel outward appearances that conceal (or even propagate) a more degenerate reality. So far so good: Alden reveals shades of The Turn of the Screw, still fresh in the minds of ENO audiences, that are apt and unmistakable. Effective use is made of faded ancestral photographs to accentuate the history between the Ashton and Ravenswood houses, and Charles Edwards’s ruined sets, lowering and cold, are creepily side-lit by Adam Silverman. It’s all very striking; but it’s expressionism of a kind that has been done elsewhere frequently, similarly, and so much better than here. Alden’s visual world closely resembles Polly Teale’s Shared Experience
A Doll’s House, but minus Ms Teale’s finesse, or maybe Marianne Elliott’s NT Thérèse Raquin, but without the mystery and menace. Instead, for every moment of inspiration, Alden commits a clunking howler that elicits titters rather than gasps. A scene of incestuous intent on the part of Enrico towards his sister shatters rather than intensifies the tension of their duet, and some bizarre business involving two men and a rope (don’t ask) ensures that in that moment our attention is on the director, not the composer. That can’t be right.

In the pit all is well, and the ENO Orchestra welcomes back its former music director with a dazzling display of fizz and brio, while a well-drilled ENO chorus is on unusually fine form. Bel Canto is back with a bang.

The Mikado - ENO

The Mikado by Gilbert & Sullivan
ENO @ The Coliseum: 2^nd Feb – 4^th Mar (9 Perf)
Originally Directed by Jonathan Miller
Revival Direction by David Ritch
Conducted by Wyn Davis
Reviewed by Laura Evelyn

The dazzling contrast of the brilliant white and cream set against the darkness of the auditorium kicked off Jonathan Miller’s glorious 2008 adaptation of Gilbert and Sullivan’s classic ‘The Mikado’ in a most spectacular way.

The set, designed Stefanos Lazaridis, was a perfect backdrop to the action as it unfolded. It formed a richly textured background without being overwhelming. Particularly effective details included some dramatic shadows, an elaborate expressionist-style parquet floor and a working fountain. The interesting use of proportion; for example a giant cocktail glass and a man climbing a ladder to reach a mantle piece, added to the eccentric nature of the opera.

Sue Blane is to be congratulated on her fabulous costumes. Whilst almost entirely monochrome, the costumes, which included school uniforms, bridesmaid dresses and morning suits, were entirely in keeping with the period and the attention to detail was exquisite. Touches of colour, such as red and yellow button holes were a clever contrast, adding yet another dimension. Katisha’s evening dresses were wondrous and the pairing of an elegant silk dress with nylon pop socks during her best high kicking efforts, had the audience in stitches.

The dancing maids and bellhops were very talented and had been expertly choreographed by Stephen Speed. There were lots of exuberant high leg kicks mixed with Charleston dance moves and tap dancing. At several points, most of the cast were dancing and the effect was magnificent.

Richard Suart stole the show with his wonderfully comic portrayal of Koko. His lapses into cockney patter were hilarious, as was his very physical and camply dramatic acting. His infamous Little List song, which apparently he writes different lyrics for at each performance, was most funny. The audience roared with laughter as he sang about topical issues and celebrities like Derek Conway, Nigella Lawson, Jeremy Paxman’s pants, Ed Balls, David Beckham, Facebook and Northern Rock. Suart’s irrepressible energy added a real vitality to his character.

The jilted elderly Katisha was another triumphant performance. Frances McCafferty was every inch the Prima Donna. Her sudden arrival on stage, complete with flying goggles, appeared to surprise both the actors and audience alike. This talented singer was able to switch easily between being haunting, when she sang a solo about being alone, and comical, when she was reminding everyone to bow down to her as Mikado’s daughter-in-law elect. Her stage presence was very powerful and she certainly came across as a force to be reckoned with.

The great Pooh-Bah, played masterfully by Graeme Danby, encapsulated an unbelievable snobbishness and arrogance. Full of his own self-importance, Pooh-Bah was a suitable comic foil for the more delicate and feminine Pitti Sing. Pitti Sing (Anna Grevelius), whilst glamorous, was the weakest singer of the main characters. At times it was a struggle to hear her clearly.

Robert Murray totally had the measure of the hapless love-sick Nanki-Poo down to a tee. His interactions with Koko and his on-stage chemistry with the beautiful, expressive and musically talented Yum-Yum (Sarah Tynan) was very believable and amusing.

As one would expect at the ENO, the music was divine. The orchestra, directed by Wyn Davies, was superb and the clarinets delivered a particularly noteworthy performance.

The show ended with several extremely well deserved curtain calls, some standing ovations and rapturous applause from the audience. Now in its 12^th revival, this performance was totally sumptuous and is definitely a must-see.

Madame Butterly - ENO

Madame Butterfly by Puccini
ENO @ The Coliseum Jan 31^st -7^th March (9 perfs)
Directed by Anthony Minghella
Conducted by David Parry
Reviewed By Kimberley Knudson

Any production returning for a second revival brings with it a promise of something extraordinary. Anthony Minghella’s interpretation of Puccini’s tale of doomed love set in Japan, brought back by Associate Director/Choreographer Carolyn Choa, gives us precisely that in a production at times quite breathtaking in style. The spartan set, with its polished floor and huge mirror above, echo the black lacquered box within which Cio-Cio-San keeps her few possessions. As the mirror rises at the opening of the performance the stage is bathed in a deep blood red, slowly a silhouette of a young Japanese bride emerges, and around her four masked dancers begin to wind crimson silk. All of this before a note is even played. If you came expecting cinematic style opulence from Minghella you will not be disappointed.

Whilst the set is minimalist in appearance, the use of screens emulating the bamboo ones used in Japanese houses, the pink cherry blossom falling gently on the lovers at the end of Act 1 and the curtain of petals falling slowly from the roof all add to the stunning visuals.

Minghella also brings more invention in the use of Bunraku puppetry, the puppets being manipulated by black clad figures. Whilst this device works in the thought/dream sequence during the intermezzo in Act 2 using a puppet for Cio-Cio-San, we are left without the usual focus for our emotions namely Sorrow, Cio-Cio-San’s son. The puppeteers manipulate the figure with consummate skill making all the movements incredibly lifelike, however the slightly macabre, skull like head of the puppet detracts from the image and renders any attempt at emotional connection nigh on impossible.

Peter Mumford’s lighting sympathetically emphasizes the mood of the piece, particularly when Cio-Cio-San and Suzuki are starkly lit centre stage against a white screen, the sense of loneliness and desperation are palpable.

Han Feng’s costumes are bursting with a riot of colour from across the spectrum and with the reflections in the mirrored section of the set the effect is dazzling but somehow not distracting, as the orchestra, splendidly conducted by David Parry, keep us focused on Puccini’s enthralling score.

Judith Howard’s Cio-Cio-San is at once innocent and trusting, yet clearly no ordinary Tea House girl who can be bought and herein lies her downfall. Howard brings naivety and vulnerability to the role, her voice carrying clearly even at the quietest moments. Gwyn Hughes Jones reprising his role as Pinkerton provokes disgust at his attitude towards his marriage to Cio-Cio-San, cutting the imposing figure expected of a naval Lieutenant. Ashley Holland as Sharpless, at first a little drowned by the orchestra, grows with each scene and by the end shows a level of emotion hitherto unexpected but perfectly judged. Karen Cargill imbues Suzuki with the love of a mother for her daughter, rather than that of a maid for her mistress, thereby evoking much sympathy for the plight of the two women.

Of the remaining cast William Berger of the ENO Young singers deserves special mention for his well received role as Prince Yamadori.

Photos by Alastair Muir

The Turn of the Screw - ENO

Turn of the Screw by Britten
Eno @ The Colliseum
26th November – 6th December
Directed by David McVicar
Conductor Gary Walker
Review by Mark Valencia

Britten is English National Opera’s lucky composer, with ne’er a flop in their recent history. The St Martin’s Lane house is able to summon up benchmark productions of Grimes, Budd, Lucretia and the Dream, all joined mere months ago by an inspired Death in Venice from Deborah Warner. And here comes Suffolk’s favourite son once again to lift the company’s flagging fortunes with another winner. David McVicar’s atmospheric and troubling staging of The Turn of the Screw started life at the Mariinsky Theatre in St Petersberg, so it arrives tried, tested and a safe bet. The powers that be at Fortress Coliseum must be relieved to see something this classy on their beleaguered stage.

In fact their earlier Screw was already pretty good, but McVicar’s wholly tangible vision of Bly inhabits a different world from Jonathan Miller’s screens and projections (last seen in 1993). A strong sense of period underpins Tanya McCallin’s semi-abstract setting, and a rocking horse – that potent symbol of Edwardian childhood – is prominent throughout. Only two misjudgements break the spell: some distractingly noisy sliding screens and, crucially, McVicar’s use of six supernumeraries who spend the evening pottering around Bly relocating the furniture, all clad in period costume and all indistinguishable on the dimly lit stage from Peter Quint and Miss Jessel. As a result, when the ghosts do appear they could just as easily have popped onstage to shift a piano or desk into position. We lose all sense of surprise or menace, and the problem is compounded by the fact that the four (living) principal characters really ought to exist in a huis clos of desolation borne of isolation. How else to explain the Governess’s fear of living far removed from her 'own kind'?

The cast is mostly terrific. Timothy Robinson brings a mood of incantation to the Prologue, while his Quint is appallingly seductive. Cheryl Barker ensures that the underwritten role of Miss Jessel makes a strong impression; Ann Murray’s housekeeper has an unaccustomed but wholly appropriate sternness, and Rebecca Evans interprets the Governess as a damaged soul to match her charges, in particular the superbly sung and acted Miles of George Longworth (a role he shares with Jacob Moriarty). Only Nazan Fikret disappoints, in a role she has now outgrown. I was more impressed when I saw her as Flora in Luc Bondy’s production a few years ago, but of course she was a real child then. Now approaching twenty, she should be given time to nurture her vocal development in private; as it is, she alone had me reaching for the surtitles.

Garry Walker makes his ENO début at the head of a variable instrumental ensemble (great strings but some sour double reeds) and chooses audacious tempi that rightly emphasise the unfulfilled voluptuousness of Britten’s score. Has there ever been a more expansive reading of the Governess’s letter scene? It was a glorious piece of romanticisation that Tchaikovsky himself would have envied, and all of a piece with McVicar’s staging. This fine production deserves to come back and haunt us for years to come.

Aida - ENO at the Colesium

Aida by Verdi
ENO at the Coliseum: 9 November – 7 December
Director: Jo Davies
Conductor: Edward Gardner
Reviewed By Crystal Alonsi

Jo Davis is to be congratulated on directing a vibrant, eye catching, imaginative production of this Aida, however I do not think that this performance attains greatness. The majesty, pomp, brutality and agonised sorrow that lie at the heart of this piece was strangely lacking.

Zandra Rhodes’s costumes were magnificent, individualized even in crowd scenes: from lapis lazuli, through the full range of turquoise from blue to green, peacock hues, contrasted with orange, terracotta, tangerine shot through with gold. Amongst these Aida’s (ClaireRutter) was strangely muted. When the lighting on her was subdued she had the disconcerting tendency of virtually disappearing, whilst still on stage, with only the odd glint or so of gold giving a clue as to her whereabouts. The peasant outfits in the very effective muted tones contrasted well with the main characters. There were several good performances amongst the crowd on a very cramped stage. Some Egyptian guards did look rather lumpish and out of their depth. I would not be surprised to hear that they were on work experience having ticked “Security work” on their placement forms.

The ‘elephant’ for the triumphal procession was formed by some of the cast with cleverly controlled head, trunk and tusks, unfortunately the ears were so huge and flappy that they obscured the conquering hero. In my part of the opera house a faint giggle rippled through the audience and Dumbo’s name was softly murmured. This was rather a bathetic arrival for Radames and surely unintentional. The parade included some energetic and accomplished dancers and acrobats who twirled, whirled and stamped with enthusiasm and skill. Aida’s captured people looked a suitable contrast to the polished and highly organized Egyptians.

Act 3 opens to reveal cartoon like trees and sketchy pyramids and a pair of Egyptian eyes on the backcloth which seemed at odds with the imposing staircase with its dramatic lighting on the left hand side of the stage. This dichotomy demonstrated the uneasiness that was present all the way through the performance: was ‘Aida’ being treated as a pantomime with spectacle and roughly sketched comic book characters or as tragedy with complicated people faced with agonizing choices and dilemmas, including unrequited love, consuming jealousy, war and massacre, slavery and hearts torn by divided loyalties? When Amonasro (Ian Paterson) suddenly emerges from behind a tree the drama did descend to a farcical level. Far from having the bearing and demeanor of a king, albeit a defeated one, he looked like the understudy in a low budget production of Robinson Crusoe.

Aida’s acting ability was somewhat limited however her singing ameliorated this. Radames also possessed a voice far richer and varied than his physical performance. The scenes with both Aida and Radames were stilted and awkward, there seemed to be no chemistry between them let alone a consuming passion worth dying for. Pharaoh (Gwynne Howell) owellHowgave a relaxed performance, his honeyed tones sounding very assured. Amneris (Jane Dutton) struggled in what is a rather a Bette Davis part although aided by some gorgeous costumes she was clearly hampered by her ugly and unwieldy headgear. Ramfis (Brindley Sherratt) had the best voice of all; caramel tones resonant and confident.

The orchestra gave a great performance under the superb conducting of Edward Gardner. They gave a masterful and coherent rendering of the score supporting the singers and creating much of the drama. The fanfare during the triumphal parade with its familiar and well-loved tune was executed crisply and dramatically and heightened the experience of the spectacle.

The final scene included the device of an open cage, rather suggestive of a dumb waiter slowly wafting Radames from on high down to the stage. This was hardly a dramatic flinging of an enemy of the state to their final doom. While he was singing of death and despair this strange contraption gently wobbled upwards and finally disappeared. It was a curious and unhelpful device at this point in the performance, totally out of keeping with the final awfulness of death and separation that the music conveyed. It undermined the already curiously unconvincing duet between the two main characters culminating in the unnoteworthy death of Aida.

So should you go or not? If you can get a ticket, and they are nearly all sold, you will certainly enjoy yourself. Will you experience a great and influential performance? Not really, but you will have a good evening out enhanced by many interesting effects and several satisfying performances.

Photos by Tristram Kenton top: Jane Rutter (Aida) & Iain Patterson (Amonasio) Bottom: Aida & Radames (John Hudson)