Ruth Elleson's Letters from London 2004

 January

Sweeney Todd at the Royal Opera: ACT II Photo: Catherine Ashmore

The Royal Opera had a refreshing break from tradition this month with Neil Armfield’s staging of Sweeney Todd. It is one of the most operatic of all musicals, and there has been a growing trend amongst opera companies to perform it – the Royal Opera production was first seen at the Lyric Opera of Chicago, and closer to home, Opera North toured with their own production in 2001.

This is a piece where good characterisation, coupled with Stephen Sondheim’s blackly evocative score, virtually preclude the need for detailed stage design – a dream, therefore, for your average cost-conscious opera company. Todd’s shop was represented by a raised platform above the stage, and other scenes suggested by various configurations of cream translucent curtains.

Thomas Allen as Sweeney Todd and Jonathan Veira as Judge Turpin Photo: Catherine Ashmore

Although the sound was assisted by (sensitively-done) West End style amplification, the principal cast consisted entirely of A-list opera singers. Using his own County Durham accent, Thomas Allen established Todd as an outsider from the start. Vocally his style seemed quite conventionally ‘operatic’ and there were occasions where he seemed challenged by the low tessitura – as well as some swallowed bottom notes, he surprised my Sondheim-aficionado companion by taking some things up an octave. He was in his element in the big monologue-aria, Epiphany, in which he vows revenge on the whole of mankind, but his comedic gifts did not go to waste, thanks in part to his rapport with Mrs Lovett. She was sung by the incredibly versatile Felicity Palmer, who was truly a star turn – listening to her singing here with a real music-theatre voice, adopting a seamless Cockney accent, and providing almost all the humour and drive, it was difficult to believe that her last two London appearances were as Klytemnestra! A smaller but pivotal role provided a cameo for another diva – Rosalind Plowright as the Beggar Woman – who managed to develop the character sufficiently to gain audience sympathy even before the awful moment when her true identity is revealed.

Felicity Palmer as Mrs Lovett and Thomas Allen as Sweeney Todd Photo: Catherine Ashmore

Rebecca Evans’s diminutive stature and warm, sunny soprano made her an ideal Johanna, with William Dazeley as an ardent Anthony. Bonaventura Bottone had great fun with the cod-Italian Pirelli, and Doug Jones’s Toby was compelling to watch (though he put on an accent not dissimilar to Dick van Dyke’s efforts in Mary Poppins). Jonathan Veira’s Judge Turpin was (intentionally) revolting, with his skin-crawlingly lecherous showpiece, Johanna, sung to the audience as he encroached upon us.

The chorus, with their recurring narrative function, supplied an atmosphere of menace, though they did so with poor diction. Paul Gemignani, experienced in this type of repertoire, held proceedings together from the pit – but it was Palmer that carried the show.

Felicity Palmer as Mrs Lovett, Bonaventura Bottone as Pirelli, and Thomas Allen as Sweeney Todd Photo: Catherine Ashmore

This is the London Symphony Orchestra’s centenary year, and the celebrations began in early January with two concert performances of Peter Grimes. It was strange to see this most atmospheric of operas in a concert setting, the grey mists of the music incongruous with the golden wood-panelled décor in the Barbican Hall. There was nobody to play the silent role of John, Grimes’s apprentice, so there were times when Grimes and Ellen Orford seemed to be talking to thin air, and the impact of the beat of Hobson’s drum was lessened by Hobson not actually playing it himself.

But it was a musical triumph. What a luxury it was to have the full strength of the London Symphony Chorus to drive home the force of community opinion, and what a detailed and intense reading of the score Colin Davis gave, throwing himself almost bodily into the storm interlude and the larger choruses. The cast was led by the Australian tenor Glenn Winslade, a Grimes in the dramatic mould, who other than some tension in the Boar Scene sounded terrific. I would have liked to see a little more of the character’s sympathetic side – he was more convincing when railing against the people of the borough than in his great introspective soliloquy. He was partnered by Janice Watson as a shiningly lyrical Ellen and Alastair Miles as a commanding Balstrode. Among the smaller roles, including Catherine Wyn-Rogers as Mrs Sedley and Jill Grove as Auntie, there were no weaknesses. I ended up attending both performances; the second was the stronger.

At the end of the month, the Budapest Festival Orchestra visited the Barbican for two related concerts on consecutive nights, with the first half of each concert consisting of Liszt orchestral music, and the second half of excerpts from Die Walküre. Though it is my business to concentrate on the operatic segments, I must first mention the remarkable account of the Hungarian Rhapsody which opened the second concert, which unusually featured the cimbalom (a free-standing strung instrument played like a xylophone – imagine the sound you would make if you opened the lid of a piano and struck the strings with drumsticks, and you pretty much know what it sounds like). A wild-eyed Oszkár Okrós flourished his way through the virtuoso music, and looked at the end as if he might drop dead from over-exertion. It was gripping.

The first evening’s Die Walküre excerpt was the entire first act. Under the baton of Iván Fischer the orchestra was terrific in its commitment and dynamic range. There were a couple of excruciating moments from the late replacement tenor, Jan Kyhle, who had a tendency to sing flat under pressure. Petra Lang was a radiant and powerful Sieglinde, with no lack of sheen on her top notes to betray her mezzo status, and great skill at carrying the listener along with the character’s thought process. Alfred Reiter boomed his way through the role of Hunding with a little too much vibrato. Even if some of the components were unexceptional, the whole somehow came together in powerful theatrical style – having arrived at the Barbican after a long day, I felt at the end of the evening that I could do a ten-mile run.

The second half of the second evening was more of a ‘bleeding chunk’, with just the last scene of Act Three. Dramatically, this is problematic – by omitting Act Two you lose the background to Brünnhilde’s and Wotan’s motivations at this point. You do not see Brünnhilde’s attempt (and failure) to persuade Wotan that she knows what he really wants, and you do not see the emotional process Brünnhilde goes through in her conversation with Siegmund, leading her to disobey her father. Even the whole of Act Three would have been an improvement, though with Petra Lang here singing the role of Brünnhilde, who would have taken over as Sieglinde?

Let’s stop thinking about what was missing, and talk about what was there. Lang, once again, was terrific. Wotan was sung by John Tomlinson, whose voice and presence as ever left the impression of a man with far greater physical stature. At fortissimo there is an occasional dryness in the voice - but he knows how to turn this to dramatic effect, and he enthralled the audience. The orchestra once again created theatre in the concert hall, without ever substituting drama for accuracy – the articulation in the Magic Fire music was spiky and scintillating.

Next month sees the reopening of the English National Opera's Coliseum following its extensive refurbishment, though the occasion will not be as planned. The season was due to open on February 7 with a revival of John Adams’s Nixon in China, but due to technical delays the entire production has had to be shelved. It is still uncertain as to whether Das Rheingold will open on time, on February 23, following a hastily organised reopening gala on February 21. I shall be reporting in detail on the ‘new’ theatre, but it looks likely that my first visit there may not be until early March.

I am unable to attend the reopening gala as I will be taking in a performance of Simon Boccanegra at the Royal Opera House, one of many exciting prospects in the coming weeks as the opera world finally reawakens following its extended and almost total Christmas shutdown. Also at the Royal Opera House I will be seeing tenor Rolando Villazon in a revival of Les contes d’Hoffmann, and Thomas Ades’s new opera on Shakespeare’s The Tempest will receive its premiere on February 10. Osmo Vänskä brings the Minnesota Orchestra to the Barbican for a performance of Duke Bluebeard’s Castle on February 22, while Chelsea Opera Group once again team up with soprano Nelly Miricioiu for a performance of Rossini’s Ermione. And La bohème will become the latest of Raymond Gubbay’s ‘in the round’ extravaganzas to grace the Royal Albert Hall.

© Ruth Elleson, 4 February 2004 

February

Thomas Adès’s The Tempest at the Royal Opera House: Cyndia Sieden as Ariel Photo: Clive Barda

The Royal Opera may field fewer new works than the ENO, but when a new commission does come up, the company has an excellent record of funding and casting the new piece to make the most of its potential. Last season Nicholas Maw’s lengthy adaptation of Sophie’s Choice would certainly have fallen flat without its terrific performers. Thomas Adès’s new adaptation of Shakespeare’s The Tempest, seen here in a staging by Tom Cairns, is a stronger work to begin with. Unlike Ades’s first opera, the controversial Powder Her Face, the narrative is concise and the vocal and orchestral lines mainly lyrical in a sound-world which conjures a certain sense of the unknown. The role of Prospero is forcefully written, and there is some especially beguiling love music for Miranda and Ferdinand.

The Tempest: Simon Keenlyside as Prospero and Cyndia Sieden as Ariel Photo: Clive Barda

The piece’s main talking-point has been Adès’s musical characterisation of Ariel, a stratospherically high soprano part which leaps and flits all over the place. The American soprano Cyndia Sieden made a phenomenal job of it, complementing her vocal acrobatics with dancer-like physical poise. The rest of the cast was the best of British - Simon Keenlyside singing with powerful voice and emotion as an embittered Prospero, Toby Spence a Ferdinand whose limpid voice embodied his wonderment at his new surroundings, and Christine Rice a warm-toned but still ingenuous Miranda. We should have had Ian Bostridge as Caliban, but for this final performance (also broadcast on BBC TV) he was indisposed and replaced by the appealing but sometimes inaudible Christopher Lemmings.

The Tempest: Simon Keenlyside as Prospero Photo: Clive Barda

Unfortunately the big let-down of this new work is Meredith Oakes’s libretto, which consists principally of trite and sing-song rhyming couplets. They seemed particularly cheesy during one of the finest musical set-pieces - a passacaglia ensemble in the final act - detracting from the overall effect. Any exploration of Shakespeare’s text is left to Cairns’s set design - for example, a stage-within-a-stage is provided by a giant book, alluding to Prospero’s book which provides one of the play’s central themes.

The Tempest: Simon Keenlyside as Prospero (left), Toby Spence as Ferdinand and Christine Rice as Miranda Photo: Clive Barda

Also at Covent Garden, an enjoyable revival of John Schlesinger’s staging of Les contes d’Hoffmann was notable mainly for Rolando Villazon’s outstanding account of the title role. His many-layered voice has echoes of Domingo, though it is a smaller instrument, and he has a similar ability to make a top note ring. The rest of the cast were strong. Willard White was menacing as the four villains, though he could have made more of ‘Scintille, diamant’.

Les contes d’Hoffmann at the Royal Opera: Ekaterina Siurina as Olympia and Robin Leggate as Spalanzani Photo: Clive Barda

Ekaterina Siurina’s Olympia was sometimes too sparky to be mechanical, but she had all the notes; Jennifer Larmore was a sensuous Giulietta, and Elena Kelessidi’s sweet Antonia had a lovely plangent tone. Jean-Paul Fouchecourt sang all four of the character tenor roles, but it was as Frantz that he scored a big hit. Ruxandra Donose’s Nicklausse supported Hoffmann’s amorous journey with stylish singing and an attractive presence, and with Richard Hickox in the pit, the orchestra and chorus were in safe and rousing hands. The production, which is very traditional, is beginning to look a little dated – but Luther’s tavern is perfectly conceived, and the stage designs for the Olympia and Giulietta acts are wonderfully opulent and detailed. If anything, only the Antonia act seems rather drab.

Simon Boccanegra at the Royal Opera: Angela Gheorghiu as Amelia, Franz Grundheber as Simon Boccanegra, and Neil Shicoff as Gabriele Adorno Photo: Catherine Ashmore

Elijah Moshinsky’s 1991 staging of Simon Boccanegra was revived once again this month, presumably as a vehicle for Angela Gheorghiu, though also serving as a farewell to the great British bass Robert Lloyd. It is a serviceable production, with sets that variously manage to create impressions of claustrophobic austerity, open space and architectural grandeur, and I do hope it lasts a couple more outings.

The performance got off to a slow start. Franz Grundheber’s Boccanegra was unrelentingly loud to begin with, conductor Mark Elder had a battle with Gheorghiu over the tempo of her aria (which he won) and Neil Shicoff’s Adorno was somewhat oversung throughout. The evening seemed doomed when there was no apparent chemistry between Grundheber and Gheorghiu, but I’m happy to say that this grew and developed over the course of the performance - as did Grundheber’s range of vocal colour - culminating in a finale that was really very moving.

Simon Boccanegra: Angela Gheorghiu as Amelia and Franz Grundheber as Simon Boccanegra Photo: Catherine Ashmore

From the start, Robert Lloyd was in notably magnificent voice - this singer is quitting while he is still very much ahead. His Fiesco was well-conceived - there was always a shade of sorrow in his vengeance. For Peter Sidhom, Paolo is a signature role; threatening, dark and with excellent diction, he is riveting to watch at the end of Act One where he finds the tables turned on him. And Gheorghiu, once she settled into the role of Amelia, was perfectly lovely, her warmly burnished tone blending the character’s blend of vulnerability and strength. If I have just one criticism of her style of singing it is that she makes rather too much use of portamento.

Simon Boccanegra: Angela Gheorghiu as Amelia, Franz Grundheber as Simon Boccanegra, and Neil Shicoff as Gabriele Adorno Photo: Catherine Ashmore

Strictly speaking I shouldn’t really be reviewing Phyllida Lloyd’s production of Das Rheingold, the long-awaited fully-staged first episode in the new English National Opera Ring Cycle. As the company was delayed in moving into its beautifully refurbished home (of which details in a separate report) the entire run of Nixon in China and the intended first performance of Rheingold were cancelled, and until quite late in the process it was by no means certain that the new opening night on Friday, February 27 would go ahead. Consequently press were invited later in the run, and in order to report from ENO before the end of February, I booked a seat and went along anyway.

The modern production is likely to offend a few cynics but will appeal to many. I found it very entertaining. Wotan and his clan live in a smart apartment, devoid of furniture which has presumably already been packed up and sent in a removal van to Valhalla, and the Rhinemaidens are a trio of slippery pole-dancers. I liked the idea that Freia should actually fall for Fasolt, and be no happier to return to the bosom of her family than to stay with the giants (she fights tooth and nail against the gods, in protest at being a pawn in Wotan’s game). I also liked the idea of the gods’ ‘house move’ being covered by a gaggle of journalists, the popping flashbulbs acting as bolts of lightning silhouetting Wotan against the clouded sky. Loge distributes press releases - he’s the spin doctor - as Wotan tries not to let the cries of the Rhinemaidens reach the ears of the reporters.

The sonorous Robert Hayward brought Wotan to life with a performance rich in humanity. Susan Parry’s Fricka was disappointing. I’m sure she sang better than this in the earlier concert performances - and Claire Weston’s Freia was unintelligible and often shrill. There was some excellent casting in the smaller roles, especially Donner and Froh (Darren Jeffery and Andrew Rees), but as was the case in the preparatory semi-staged performances in 2001 and 2002, it was Tom Randle’s shifty Loge and Andrew Shore’s bitter Alberich that made this performance worthwhile. In fact they pretty much made Paul Daniel’s pedestrian handling of the score fade into the background somewhat.

The populist (though overpriced) operatic ethos of the impresario Raymond Gubbay is about to have a permanent showcase in the West End, when his new company opens at the Savoy Theatre. Before that, Gubbay returned to familiar territory with another of his in-the-round stagings at the Royal Albert Hall. This time he collaborated with top-class director Francesca Zambello for a new production of La bohème.

The arena in the Hall is not ideal for the intimate scenes of Acts 1 and 4, especially when the basic set is really geared towards Act 3. A raised platform set the scene for the garret, but it seemed strange that it was so open. The lighting was often ill-judged, with a moonbeam effect at the start of ‘Che gelida manina’ that would have been more appropriate before ‘O soave fanciulla’. As it was, during the duet the lovers were picked out by crude spotlights. Predictably, Act 2 worked best in the large space, providing plenty to see - roller-skating waiters (becoming a bit of a cliché these days in this opera!), a dancefloor and a real marching band. It was here, though, that the sound-stage seemed most inadequate, and it was often hard to hear the words or to work out where the sound was coming from.

Mary Plazas’s Mimi has grown in vocal beauty since I last heard her sing the role four years ago. Despite her deliberately blowing out her candle at her first entrance, suggesting a more knowing portrayal, she was touchingly simple and unaffected. Partnered by Peter Wedd’s affably youthful Rodolfo (who sang ardently but resorted almost to falsetto for his fudged high C) she easily won the hearts of the audience. Majella Cullagh’s sexy, feisty fireball of a Musetta easily outshone Grant Doyle’s slightly bland Marcello. Wyn Pencarreg’s Schaunard provided solid characterisation but fluffed several vocal entries, and Dean Robinson’s Colline is now a truly believable philosopher, having developed a depth of feeling and richness of tone which was absent from his last attempt at the role several years ago at ENO.

None of the singers sounded comfortable with the clunky and over-literal translation, courtesy of conductor David Parry, who should not give up his day job - his conducting made all the right points in all the right places, though it was occasionally hesitant.

Next month the Royal Opera stages Samson et Dalila with Jose Cura and Olga Borodina, and the British soprano Claire Rutter sings her first Tosca at the Coliseum, where Die Zauberflöte will also be revived. Welsh National Opera will spend a week at Sadlers Wells with performances of Eugene Onegin, Madama Butterfly and Hänsel und Gretel, and English Touring Opera begin their Spring tour of Le nozze di Figaro and A Midsummer Night’s Dream at London’s ‘other’ newly refurbished theatre, the Hackney Empire. Professional soloists join University College London’s student chorus for a rare production of Dvorak’s Vanda, and a concert performance of Handel’s Radamisto at the Royal Festival Hall marks the first of two visits to London this season by Zurich Opera.

© Ruth Elleson, 4 March 2004 

March

Samson et Dalila at the Royal Opera House: José Cura and Denyce Graves in the title roles Photo: Bill Cooper

José Cura as Samson and Denyce Graves as Dalila Photo: Bill Cooper

Though this is not one of my favourite operas to begin with, the musical standard was generally fairly high. Cura started weakly but within a few minutes had found the meaty core of this dark, masculine tenor (and he looked ideal for the role). Graves’s voice lacks a certain richness in the middle which would have made her performance more seductive; she was also around seven months pregnant, a fact which caused occasional awkwardness of movement and may also have affected her breath control. The best voice in the cast was Tigran Martirossian as Abimelech - it is a shame that the character does not survive beyond Act I, as I would have liked to have heard more of him. Bruno Caproni’s High Priest was also strong. The orchestra and (vastly augmented) chorus were excellent; conductor Philippe Jordan got real energy and drive out of the ballet music.

José Cura as Samson Photo: Bill Cooper

At the Coliseum, the first revival of David McVicar’s English National Opera staging of Tosca fell rather flat on its opening night. It was obviously under-rehearsed, and the singers failed to gel either with one another or with the production.

Claire Rutter was vocally ideal for her first Tosca, with real fire in her top notes, and unquestionable commitment to the role. The problem was that she simply didn’t seem comfortable with all McVicar’s fiddly stage business, and therefore failed to find her feet in the production. Julian Gavin was having a real off-night as Cavaradossi, his large and normally ringing voice continually disappearing into his throat. ENO debutant Stephen Kechelius has just the right vocal weight for Scarpia, but there was little chemistry between himself and Rutter. When he learns to sing in English with a more neutral accent his diction will be better. The orchestra, under Noel Davies, were outstanding.

Last year I loved this production, and I could see that the revival cast had far more potential than they demonstrated on the first night. So I gave it time to settle down, and three weeks later I returned, in a balcony seat, for what was really a very special evening. Rutter had chosen to ditch the silly coquettish business and made perfect sense of the character, and Gavin was right back on sexy-romantic-hero form. It helped that the singers were simply more familiar with one another.

Die Zauberflöte at the Coliseum: Sarah-Jane Davies, Victoria Simmonds, and Yvonne Howard as the three ladies Photo: James Stenson

The ENO has assembled a remarkable cast for its revival of Nicholas Hytner’s gorgeous staging of Die Zauberflöte, the third opera to be seen in the restored theatre. The singers are new to the production. Toby Spence, tall, fair and clear of voice, was an ideal pantomime-hero of a Tamino, while early-music specialist Carolyn Sampson brought a melting Baroque languor to the role of Pamina. Toby Stafford-Allen, among the most promising of ENO’s present crop of young artists, was a sweet, bluff Papageno whose only failing is an ill-judged attempt at a West Country accent.

The three ladies (Sarah-Jane Davies, Victoria Simmonds and Yvonne Howard) were a polished ensemble. Brindley Sherratt (theatre-hopping between this and the Welsh National Opera’s Onegin) creates tranquillity as Sarastro, and Alasdair Elliott was properly mean and lecherous as Monostatos - he greatly enjoyed being booed by the children in the audience. James Rutherford’s Speaker made a real impression. Only Victoria Joyce’s Queen of the Night had a few problems - a young singer who was originally intended for the second cast, she was out of her depth in her Act I aria in such a large house. A little more experience will, I’m sure, enable her to build both her vocal resources and stage presence. Nicholas Kraemer’s conducting was supportive, though one could have asked for better articulation from the strings during the overture.

Die Zauberflöte: Toby Spence as Tamino and Carolyn Sampson as Pamina Photo: James Stenson

The highlights of this beautiful, witty staging remain the live doves which fly on one by one at the sound of Papageno’s pipe, the ‘brown bears’ charmed by Tamino’s first attempt at the flute, the screen of cut-out hieroglyphics which provides the backdrop for the Temple and, especially, the eventual entrance of Papagena (a visually and vocally exquisite Sarah Tynan) in a nest which descends from the flies. (The nest reappears at curtain call, filled with hungry baby birds.)

A special mention should be given to Guy Aldridge, in charge of the revival lighting, and crew - they made the dome of this splendid ‘new’ auditorium an integral part of the production.

Die Zauberflöte: Toby Stafford-Allen as Papageno and Sarah Tynan as Papagena Photo: James Stenson

Welsh National Opera, widely regarded by performers and audiences alike as the best of the British regional companies, made a welcome return to Sadler’s Wells this month following a two-and-a-half year absence.

Joachim Herz’s attractive sepia-toned staging of Madama Butterfly featured Nuccia Focile in an affecting account of the title role, with Stephen O’Mara as a boorish dumb-blond Pinkerton. Numerous musical cuts were opened out, including the dubious ‘local colour’ provided by Cio-Cio-San’s misbehaving relatives at the wedding, and the scene towards the end in which Sharpless offers Butterfly money on Pinkerton’s behalf. The orchestra, under the baton of Julian Smith, could have played more strongly - the crescendo of drumbeats as Butterfly crosses that line towards suicide should virtually shake the audience from their seats, and it didn’t. Still, it was a creditable performance.

Much was expected of Richard Jones’s revival of Hänsel und Gretel, a production which won an Olivier Award at its first outing in 1998, and which was shown at the time on national television to high acclaim. It is a bleak, scary production which explores the opera’s darkest recesses without recourse to the modern fashion for paedophiliac implication.

Unfortunately on this occasion the production was poorly served by its cast. Barely a word of David Pountney’s English translation was audible, other than from David Kempster (who has rarely sung better than here as the father) and Anna Ryberg, a crystalline-voiced sandman and dew fairy. Tenor Peter Hoare also turned in a disturbing performance as the old bag of a witch. But the normally reliable Anne-Marie Owens failed to make an impression as the mother, and in the two title roles, Imelda Drumm and Linda Kitchen (returning from the original production) made convincing children, but were neither audible nor on pitch. Alexander Polianichko conducted this disappointing performance.

On to the hot ticket - James Macdonald’s new staging of Eugene Onegin with a stellar cast. It turned out to be one of the all-time highlights of my opera-going career, and certainly the highlight of this season so far.

This was due to an indescribably brilliant performance by Amanda Roocroft as Tatyana. Her utter commitment to the role had the audience feeling the pain of her shyness in the first scene, the feverish agitation of the Letter Scene, and the dreadful humiliation of Onegin’s rejection. Always convincing in her singing, she transformed perfectly from the tongue-tied country girl of the first four scenes into the exquisitely poised Princess Gremina. She played the latter with style, but without a hint of haughtiness, her vulnerability never far from the surface. She was simply outstanding, and I look forward to the day - already in her diary - when she will bring this matchless portrayal to Covent Garden.

She was partnered by Vladimir Moroz in the title role; he too had the skill to portray the awakening of his character’s soul in the penultimate scene, a desperate performance emerging from the man who has hitherto been stiff, cynical and unsympathetic. Marius Brenciu, the 2001 Cardiff Singer of the World, was an ideal Lensky, and Kirov protégée Ekaterina Semenchuk was a vivacious and rich-voiced Olga. Notable cameos came from Robert Tear as Monsieur Triquet and, especially, Brindley Sherratt as a warmly affecting Gremin. The WNO’s Music Director, Turgan Sokhiev, who is responsible for the company’s current exploratory trip into Russian opera, led an orchestral performance that was equal to the class of the singers. Macdonald’s staging was simple and evocative, complementing this musical and dramatic triumph of a performance.

Next month London greets its third full-time opera company, Savoy Opera, spearheaded by the populist impresario Raymond Gubbay. Its inaugural productions are Il barbiere di Siviglia and Le nozze di Figaro. The Royal Opera House hosts a new production of Shostakovich’s masterpiece, Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, and a revival of John Schlesinger’s sumptuous staging of Der Rosenkavalier with a cast including Dame Felicity Lott and Angelika Kirchschlager. ENO brings back its hugely popular 1930s staging of The Mikado, while for those who are partial to more unusual repertoire, the Polish National Opera will visit Sadler’s Wells with The Haunted Manor (Straszny dwór) by Moniuszko, King Roger (Król Roger) by Szymanowski and Ubu Rex by Penderecki.

© Ruth Elleson, 4 April 2004 

April 

The Mikado at the English National Opera: Ian Caddy as Pooh-Bah, Richard Suart as Ko-Ko, and Riccardo Simonetti as Pish-Tush Photo: Bill Cooper

A new production of Shostakovich’s masterpiece, Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, opened on the first of the month at the Royal Opera House, and was an enormous success. It had a lot to live up to - English National Opera’s most recent revival in 2001 was unforgettably brilliant - but luckily Richard Jones’ staging for the Royal Opera took a different enough direction to make it outstanding in its own right.

Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk at the Royal Opera: Maxim Mikhailov as the priest, Christopher Ventris as Sergey, andKatarina Dalayman as Katerina Photo: Clive Barda

Much of this opera is black comedy, and much of that came out perfectly here. Having disposed of her unpleasant father-in-law, Katerina (an astonishingly versatile Katarina Dalayman) and Sergey (Christopher Ventris) transform the room into a fetchingly camp pink boudoir while the corpse is literally still fresh on the ground. When husband Zinovy becomes victim number two, he is beheaded and stashed in a wardrobe (the severed head, in a supermarket carrier bag, is later presented to the police as evidence). The production also has the power to chill; the ghost of Boris (John Tomlinson - dare I say on slightly threadbare form?) appears not only on the bedroom TV during Katarina and Sergey’s lovemaking session, but again during the wedding, stalking amongst the guests, unseen by all but Katerina. More strong casting, including Christine Rice as the convict Sonyetka, made for a virtually flawless dramatic interpretation.

On the orchestral front, Antonio Pappano led a towering performance, in turns sardonic and terrifying. The onstage brass (appearing mostly, in fact, in the balcony boxes) really opened up the acoustics of the house. The Royal Opera has had too many bad new productions this season; this one is so good it very nearly cancels most of them out.

Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk: John Tomlinson as Boris Photo: Clive Barda

The Royal Opera’s second hit of the month came in the shape of a revival of John Schlesinger’s opulent staging of Der Rosenkavalier, with a cast which could do no wrong. This was rumoured to be Felicity Lott’s last Marschallin for the company - well, she has been singing the role for the best part of twenty years - and though her voice may have lost just a little of its bloom, she remains peerless in her stage presence, feeling for the words, and characterisation. She was almost matched in quality by the Octavian of Austrian mezzo Angelika Kirchschlager, who has a credible chemistry with Lott and sings with a consistently attractive tone. She is a truly delectable Mariandel; in fact her only occasional failing is in the characterisation of Octavian’s masculinity. This is shown up especially in the scenes with Sophie – a sweet-voiced Simone Nold, in her company debut - not least because Kirchschlager’s fragile build and features do not make her an ideal love-match for Nold, who is tallish and of average build, and has the broad facial bone structure common to opera singers. They sang beautifully together, but visually you got the impression that Sophie would have the upper hand in the relationship. Kurt Rydl’s Ochs was a treat; Eike Wilm Schulte a nicely overblown Faninal. The general ensemble of rogues, pranksters, flunkeys and assorted riff-raff were all individually thought-out and imaginatively portrayed.

But oh, the orchestra - and the musical ensemble in general - was magnificent. Under Charles Mackerras, the opening bars had a really exuberant rough-and-tumble quality (too much so, perhaps?) but in gentler moments every note was attuned to the words, every detail brought out. In the major lyrical episodes - the presentation of the rose, the closing trio - it seemed that the Marschallin’s hope for time to stand still might actually have come to fruition.

Der Rosenkavalier: Angelika Kirchschlager as Octavian (as Mariandel) with Kurt Rydl as Baron Ochs Photo: Catherine Ashmore

English National Opera, which always has a quiet period over Easter, kept things ticking along with a revival of Jonathan Miller’s ever-popular production of The Mikado. The staging, in a grand 1930s English hotel, makes the point that this operetta is not about the eccentricities of the Japanese at all, but rather of those closer to home. Done well, it is one of the most entertaining shows ENO has in its repertoire.

Almost everybody in the cast had done this show before; the exception was soprano Jeni Bern as Yum-Yum, an adept comic actress who sang her main solo, ‘The sun, whose rays are all ablaze’, most beautifully. Also notable were Ian Caddy as Pooh-Bah and Frances McCafferty as Katisha, ,the latter supplying the emotional, and some would say musical, heart of the piece.

The Mikado: Jeni Bern as Yum-Yum, Victoria Simmonds as Pitti-Sing, and Fiona Canfield as Peep-Bo Photo: Bill Cooper

Richard Suart was Ko-ko, a piece of casting which always makes my heart sink in spite of it being his signature role. Somehow, the majority of the audience seemed to love his constant overacting, gurning, overstressing of funny lines and general determination to perpetuate all the unnecessary and unfavourable stereotypes which always threaten to haunt contemporary Gilbert and Sullivan productions. The ‘Little List’ song, rewritten as topically as ever, was patchy- though the better lines went down extremely well (‘…And those weapons of mass destruction, were they ever really there? /And George W. Bush’s poodle who is known as Tony Blair’).

The Mikado: Jeni Bern as Yum-Yum and Richard Suart as Ko-Ko Photo: Bill Cooper

Another of the targets on Ko-ko’s list was a certain person who ‘puts on operas slightly further up the Strand’, a reference to the impresario Raymond Gubbay, and to Savoy Opera, his latest enterprise - London’s newest opera company. The company is in permanent residence at the Savoy Theatre, and its aims are to break even (without subsidy) and to provide popular opera in English to the large sector of the public who are generally disinclined to go to the opera. Realistically, Savoy Opera is not in competition with either the Royal Opera (there are no big stars at the Savoy, and nobody will go there just to be seen) or English National Opera (which does considerably more interesting and challenging repertoire, and with hundreds of more affordable seats) so if it can survive, it is filling a gap in the market and should be applauded.

The Mikado: Richard Suart as Ko-Ko and Richard Angas as the Mikado Photo: Bill Cooper

Having now been to both of the company’s inaugural productions, I believe that the biggest threat to its survival is low audience numbers. At the Saturday matinee performance of Il barbiere di Siviglia which I attended, the upper circle, where I sat, was at about 25 per cent capacity, rising to perhaps 40 per cent for the following Wednesday evening’s performance of Le nozze di Figaro. I would like to see the company succeed - any opera-in-English company with such clear diction deserves to - but we will have to wait and see whether it can do so.

As for the operas, the modern-dress Barbiere was the weaker of the two. It was largely set in a kitchen - cheap-looking, and incongruous for some scenes. There was some incredibly infantile humour - a couple of running jokes involving a stuffed cat and an oven - and an attempt to turn Geoffrey Dolton’s Dr Bartolo into something between a Bond villain and John Cleese. Of the singers, Darren Abrahams’ Almaviva was the most memorable, with an attractive light tenor and endearing stage presence; Owen Gilhooly’s pleasantly bluff Figaro seemed at first to have a strong voice, but somehow got drowned by the small orchestra. Sally Wilson’s Rosina had a nice rich tone and a glint in her eye. Phyllis Cannan’s Berta had trouble with the high notes in the Act 1 finale, but sang her aria nicely. The orchestra did exceptionally well - there is a passage in the overture which seems to throw most orchestras, but not this one. Brad Cohen conducted.

One might expect a company running the two Beaumarchais operas in parallel to use the same designer, but Savoy Opera chose not to, and the results spoke for themselves. Figaro was altogether a better show; while it was still quite obvious that the scenery budget was not large, there were no visual distractions, and Emma Ryott’s attractive period costumes really made the show. There was also a strong cast, led by the Royal Opera’s Darren Jeffery as a Figaro full of personality and rich of voice. His Susanna, Tamsin Coombs, sang very attractively and looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Andrea Creighton’s Countess had a dignified presence but her high As in ‘Dove sono’ were shaky, and Damian Thantrey’s Count had more physical than vocal gravitas. Perhaps the most successful piece of casting was Doreen Curran’s suitably cherubic Cherubino, an energetic figure with apple-cheeks and enormous round eyes who conveyed the boy’s puppy-like lust most effectively. Richard Van Allan, now retired from major roles, was weak as Bartolo, as was Pippa Longworth’s Marcellina. Yvette Bonner was luxury casting as Barbarina. The best thing about this show was that the singers really made one care for the characters; it was the first Figaro I have seen where I didn’t wish, even once, that Act Four was half the length.

Next month the Royal Opera revives Elijah Moshinsky’s production of Il trovatore, and makes use of the Linbury Studio Theatre to stage Britten’s The Rape of Lucretia. English National Opera’s new Ring continues with Die Walküre, with a revival of Carmen following close behind in the same theatre. The London Symphony Orchestra will give three concert performances of Falstaff, and a reputedly interesting Russian company, the Helikon Opera of Moscow, will visit the Peacock Theatre with productions of Pikovaya dama and Carmen.

© Ruth Elleson, 4 May 2004

May 

Die Walküre at the English National Opera: the Ride of the Valkyries in Act III Photo: Neil Libbert

The big news at the start of this month was the demise, in its infancy, of London’s newest opera company, Savoy Opera. Having seen the auditorium of the Savoy Theatre virtually empty on both of my visits last month, I am not at all surprised. Though it is sad to see that an unsubsidised opera company cannot survive in this guise, the fact is that Raymond Gubbay overestimated the amount that opera newcomers would be prepared to pay for cheap-looking productions with unknown singers. The Savoy boasted a top ticket price of GBP 50, but could not offer a sufficient number of really inexpensive seats. The Balcony at the Coliseum is usually virtually full, and all at GBP 10 or less. Go figure.

Phyllida Lloyd’s new staging of the Ring Cycle for English National Opera continued with a bold production of Die Walküre, which painted a disturbing if highly convincing picture of Wotan’s relationship with his daughters. Before the storm breaks at the start of the opera, a terrible scream echoes around the house; Sieglinde has been having nightmares about her father, who turns up with Brünnhilde shortly afterwards to set up the meeting between the twins. We later see him playing intimate games with Brünnhilde, rolling around on the ground in a wrestling match with their eyes locked in mutual worship, only moments before Fricka appears. The twins’ incest is instinctive to them, born of both nature - Sieglinde’s behaviour morphs into that of a wolf-cub as she recognises Siegmund - and nurture.

Die Walküre: Pär Lindskog as Siegmund, Orla Boylan as Sieglinde, and the face of Kathleen Broderick as Brünnhilde Photo: Neil Libbert

The Valhalla scenes, and some others, are set in Wotan’s film-production workshop where a giant screen allows the god to direct and edit the events which befall his Wälsung children. The screen becomes the instrument of the gods in another way when Brünnhilde projects her image onto the screen in order to speak to Siegmund. Thus the mortals are manipulated by the gods, and one of the defining moments in this production comes when Brünnhilde is compelled to run away from the camera and into direct contact with Siegmund, unable until then to sympathise with his human desire to protect Sieglinde.

It is a production of striking images. The coming of spring into Sieglinde’s drab hovel is marked by the rolling up of the back wall to reveal a dazzling green backdrop. The sword is wrested by Siegmund not from the tree, but from the womb of Sieglinde. The Valkyries abseil up from the rear of the stage, flying kites with dead heroes cartwheeling down from the sky on the ends of their ropes. Brünnhilde is prepared for her punishment by being stripped of her warrior leathers and made to stand, barefoot and clad in a coat over just a white cotton vest and underpants, in front of a gawping crowd of men in modern-day mufti. The onlookers are finally driven away by the magic fire, leaving the tiny figure of Kathleen Broderick’s childlike Brünnhilde alone in the middle of the Coliseum’s vast stage flooded by scarlet light.

Die Walküre: Robert Hayward as Wotan and Kathleen Broderick as Brünnhilde Photo: Neil Libbert

The orchestra, with Paul Daniel at the helm, were excellent, and the singing was mostly perfectly adequate with one notable exception. Pär Lindskog’s Siegmund has a tight-sounding voice; he is consistently at least a quarter-tone flat and (even making some allowances for the fact that he is not a native English-speaker) brings no intelligent interpretation to the text in Jeremy Sams’s fine translation. It was a really bad piece of casting, and ruined the first act despite a strong performance from Clive Bayley as Hunding and a rapturous, gleaming one from Orla Boylan’s Sieglinde. Robert Hayward’s Wotan is on the dull side and his diction is not always perfect, but he produces a large, full sound and the ENO could do much worse. Kathleen Broderick was really at home in this production; she is a capable actress who brings out all the facets of the opera’s title role. I found Susan Parry’s Fricka a little too monochrome. The Valkyries were a fine and energetic ensemble. All in all, a really memorable production - shame about the tenor.

The Rape of Lucretia at the Linbury Studio Theatre: Grant Doyle as Tarquinius and Christine Rice as Lucretia Photo : Catherine Ashmore

Over at Covent Garden, the Royal Opera finally got around to using its basement space, the Linbury Studio Theatre, to stage a complete opera production. The Linbury has a rather dry acoustic and a few ‘dead spots’ but it is a lovely size for chamber opera; until now it has been used mainly by small-scale companies and as a concert venue for the house’s orchestral soloists and members of the Vilar Young Artists’ Programme.

This month’s production of The Rape of Lucretia was in fact a showcase for some of the Vilar Young Artists, although the two main protagonists were not members of the programme (Grant Doyle, the Tarquinius, is a former member, and Christine Rice, the Lucretia, is a guest soloist who originally made her name at the Coliseum). There were some fine performances from the young singers, especially Ha Young Lee’s sweet-toned Lucia and Matthew Rose’s sonorous Collatinus (one suspects that he will soon make his career in far larger roles and venues!). The opulent soprano of the female chorus, Victoria Nava, was also notable, but the role of the male chorus really did not suit tenor Hubert Francis.

Grant Doyle’s Tarquinius lacked something - he is a slightly-built man and needs to learn to compensate for it with stage presence. Next to a wonderfully intimate, tragic performance by Christine Rice, he failed to make his mark. Conductor Alexander Briger created a mesmerising musical atmosphere.

The Rape of Lucretia: Grant Doyle as Tarquinius and Christine Rice as Lucretia Photo : Catherine Ashmore

It is certainly welcome to see something staged in this venue on a Royal Opera budget at last. The set, which occupied the entire theatre, looked beautiful, though there were large numbers of books suspended from the ceiling by threads (don’t ask me why) which had a tendency to obstruct sightlines. Though the quality of the acting was high, I really didn’t warm to John Lloyd Davies’s production, principally due to the symbolism being so unsubtle as to make me feel patronised. Tarquinius, for example, spent much of the time running around and making obscene gestures to a female nude statue with his sword. The second act saw the stage dominated by enormous, phallic lilies. And the whole thing was staged on a giant cross, which doesn’t help to dispel the widely-held opinion that the opera seems dated principally because of the choruses’ interminable Christian moralising.

Il trovatore at the Royal Opera House: the final scene of Act II with Marco Berti as Manrico, Fiorenza Cedolins as Leonora, Elizabeth Woollett as Inez, and Lado Ataneli as di Luna Photo: Bill Cooper

In the main auditorium, Elijah Moshinsky’s production of Il trovatore was far more conventional, in fact you could call it a masterclass in operatic cliché. The main problem was that the principals suffered from a lack of direction, with far too much ‘stand and sing’ and not enough dramatic engagement.

Fiorenza Cedolins was making her house debut as Leonora; her voice gleams at the top, but there is no integration between her registers and she has a tendency to sound somewhat woolly lower down. I suspect she may have done some work on the Miserere scene with a singing coach; suddenly for ‘D’amor sull’ali rosee’ she pulled out all the stops and delivered a most beautiful performance. As Manrico, Marco Berti shared one of the soprano’s weaknesses - a lack of security in semiquaver passages - but thoroughly redeemed himself with the best top notes I can remember hearing from a tenor in a live performance. Lado Ataneli’s Conte di Luna was unremarkable.

The only consistently exciting, intelligent performance of the evening came from Irina Mishura - also making her London debut - as Azucena. She is a real creature of the stage, riveting in both singing and movement. Edward Downes’s tempi were a touch on the slow side, which doesn’t bode well in a dimly-lit production with stout tenors and baritones having unimpassioned sword-fights in time to the music. It was really thanks to Mishura’s performance, Berti’s high Cs, and a strong contribution from Arutjun Kotchinian as Ferrando, that the performance came to life at all.

Il trovatore: Irina Mishura as Azucena and Marco Berti as Manrico Photo: Bill Cooper

English National Opera revived Jonathan Miller’s popular production of Carmen, which somehow failed to make the grade this time around. This particular cast is not great with dialogue, so every break in the music is a break in the drama. Sara Fulgoni, in the title role, is one of the main culprits, and though she is a tall and attractive woman with a rich and sensuous low mezzo voice, she is somehow unable to convey earthy sexuality. John Hudson sang Don José, which is normally his best role, but on this occasion he left it until the last act before he really got involved. Peter Coleman-Wright was a dashing, show-stealing Escamillo. Prior to the first night I had reservations about the casting of Alison Roddy as Micäela, but I need not have worried - she gave a charming performance, even though her voice was clearly becoming increasingly affected by an oncoming illness as the evening went on (she missed future performances; Coleman-Wright also pulled out later in the run due to a back injury). The supporting cast were musically excellent, and the two girls (Gail Pearson as Frasquita and Stephanie Marshall as Mercedes) were particularly strongly characterised. David Atherton conducted energetically.

Next month is a busy one. The Royal Opera stages Arabella, with Karita Mattila and Thomas Hampson, and the season’s hot ticket, Faust, with Gheorghiu, Alagna, Terfel and Keenlyside, among others. There are two revivals at ENO, firstly of Verdi’s tuneful early melodrama Ernani, then later in the month Britten’s bewitching take on Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Zürich Opera pays its second visit this season to the Royal Festival Hall for a concert performance of Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, and Opera North arrive at Sadler’s Wells with their ‘Eight Little Greats’, a set of one-act operas ranging from the mainstream (Pagliacci, Il tabarro) to the obscure (Bizet’s Djamileh, Zemlinsky’s Der Zwerg). And the new summer season at Holland Park opens with Norma and La fanciulla del West.

© Ruth Elleson, 4 June 2004 

June 

A Midsummer Night's Dream at the English National Opera: Peter Rose as Bottom and Sarah Tynan as Tytania in Act II Photo: Bill Cooper

All eyes were on the Royal Opera House this month for David McVicar’s new production of Faust, with the starriest cast seen in any opera in London for years. Despite ticket prices the show was a sell-out within a day, and many thousands of opera fans had to content themselves with watching the live TV broadcast at home or on the big screen in the Covent Garden piazza.

Like Bizet’s Carmen, Faust is one of those rare works in which almost every number is well-known, but unlike Carmen it has failed to retain its initial smash-hit status. On the contrary, the consensus among the modern-day opera-goers seems to be that it is a byword for crowd-pleasing 'tosh', mixing popular tunes with sanctimonious Victorian morals. Had it been staged in a traditional production, even (especially?) with an all-star cast, it might have been laughed off the stage. David McVicar, one of the most theatrically astute opera directors of his generation and with a dim view of traditional religious morality, was the ideal candidate to break the mould and create a viable staging.

Faust at the Royal Opera House: Angela Gheorghiu as Marguerite and Roberto Alagna as Faust Photo: Catherine Ashmore

He updated the setting from medieval France to Second Empire Paris, with its alluring cocktail of opulence, hedonism and permissiveness, and most crucially its double standards concerning the behaviour of women, the theme famously explored in Verdi’s La traviata. Everything had its still darker side; one of the production’s most memorable images was Méphistophélès causing blood to flow from a statue of Christ to provide a drink for the crowd of whores who join him in the Veau d’Or song. And the grotesque Walpurgisnacht ballet, with superficially pretty ballerinas in white tutus bullying a ‘fallen’ pregnant woman, was perfectly in keeping with the twisted values of this time and place.

Roberto Alagna showed his class in the title role; his slightly dry tenor has always been at its best in the French repertoire, and he has the boyish quality ideal for a character who has unexpectedly rediscovered his youth. Doddering around with grey hair and a housecoat, he made a surprisingly good ‘old Faust’, and he was game for anything – even turning a celebratory cartwheel at the moment of his rejuvenation.

Faust: Angela Gheorghiu as Marguerite Photo: Catherine Ashmore

I had my reservations about the idea of Angela Gheorghiu as Marguerite; her richness of vocal tone, exotic looks and sophisticated stage presence make her in theory an unlikely ‘innocent’. But in a blonde wig, with a voice skilfully whittled down to the sweetest of instruments, Gheorghiu was – both vocally and physically – angelically, enchantingly beautiful. She had some trouble with French pronunciation, but nobody really cared as she absorbed herself in the role so effectively. She sang a gleeful, girlish Jewel Song, was ravishing in the Act 3 duet with Alagna, and radiantly authoritative in the final trio.

Faust at Covent Garden: Angela Gheorghiu as Marguerite, Roberto Alagna as Faust, and Bryn Terfel as Méphistophélès Photo: Catherine Ashmore

Bryn Terfel’s charismatic Méphistophélès matched McVicar’s view of the character as a sinister chameleon, even appearing for the Walpurgisnacht wearing a slinky evening dress and tiara. I saw the BBC broadcast having been to the previous live performance, and in many ways he came across better on TV than in the theatre, as his facial expressions were so much part of the performance. He relished every moment of the opera, especially his liaison with Della Jones’s Marthe, and it is to his credit that even with the other superstars on stage, he was still the audience favourite.

As Valentin, Simon Keenlyside set the standard for all of the others with a beautiful and deeply-felt rendition of ‘Avant de quitter ces lieux’, backed up by entirely convincing stagecraft, and Sophie Koch’s warmly-sung Siébel had an attractive, sympathetic presence. The chorus and orchestra were terrific under Antonio Pappano, and Charles Edwards’s set designs were big, atmospheric and visually striking. This was a rare achievement for the Royal Opera – a production as good in practice as it looked on paper. It lived up to the hype and made the premium-rate ticket prices genuinely good value for money.

Arabella at the Royal Opera: Thomas Hampson as Mandryka and Diana Damrau as the Fiakermilli Photo: Catherine Ashmore

Like Faust, Strauss’s lyric comedy Arabella is an unfashionable opera; slushy, light on plot and difficult to justify to the artistic cognoscenti. Peter Mussbach’s production, already seen at the Châtelet, arrived at Covent Garden this month with a cast almost as impressive as that of Faust but without the hype. Mussbach, using a grand split-level set by Erich Wonder, didn’t exactly solve the opera’s inherent problems – but the singing was so wonderful it was difficult to care.

The singing was simply radiant. Karita Mattila gleamed in the title role; her voice blended with that of Thomas Hampson’s Mandryka even better than with Barbara Bonney’s ageless Zdenka. Diana Damrau, who will sing Zerbinetta here next month, was a sparkling, tomboyish Fiakermilli, and Raymond Very made a notable company debut as Matteo. Christoph von Dohnanyi had a real feel for the Straussian phrasing and carried his breathtaking singers along on the crest of a wave.

Thomas Hampson as Mandryka and Karita Mattila as Arabella at the Royal Opera House Photo: Catherine Ashmore

At English National Opera, two contrasting but equally welcome revivals provided something for everyone at the close of the season. The first was Elijah Moshinsky’s staging of Verdi’s Ernani, last seen in 2000. Though only the composer’s fifth work, it is a precursor to his later operas; the prelude itself providing models for both the Rigoletto and Traviata preludes. The piece is full of archetypal Verdi hits: the several swashbuckling male choruses, the famous soprano aria (‘Ernani, involami’) with its irresistibly catchy cabaletta, the big ensemble finales to the first and third acts, and the ever-intensifying final trio in melodramatic triple time. Here it has the benefit of Maria Bjørnson’s classy set design and Irene Bohan’s spectacular Velasquez-inspired costumes; if the action is sometimes a little slow, the tableaux compensate.

The idea of tenor Rhys Meirion in the title role was an incongruous one; he is a sweet, likeable lyric singer but would not be many people’s first choice to play a tormented nobleman-turned-outlaw. He surprised everybody with a full-throated, introspective performance, though he began to have some intonation problems later on. Conversely, regular ENO patrons might have expected a consummate performance from Ashley Holland as Carlo V; in fact he seemed uncomfortable with the role which seemed to lie rather high for him. He redeemed himself somewhat with his Act 3 soliloquy, but overall it was a disappointing vocal performance and he made little of the character.

Ernani at the English National Opera: Rhys Meirion as Ernani and members of the chorus in Act I Photo: Bill Rafferty

As Silva, Alastair Miles displayed neither a huge voice nor a particularly imposing stage presence, but gave a performance of great musicality and depth. And as Elvira, the love interest of all three men, Cara O’Sullivan sang with impressive poise and elegance. In the pit, Mark Shanahan’s sensitive conducting managed to make this early Verdi score sound less like Donizetti and more like Verdi’s later and more emotionally complex works.

Later in the run, there was a (scheduled) change of soprano and conductor; O’Sullivan was a difficult act to follow, but Claire Rutter rose to the occasion with her accustomed panache, giving Elvira a commanding presence, not to mention a rather fine trill in the middle of her cabaletta. The other newcomer was Phillip Thomas, who came to his first night having had no rehearsal to speak of; he seemed to ‘gel’ effectively with the principals, but was at odds with the chorus, who had a hard time with his unconventional tempi. The only other real negative comment I can make is that Anthony Peattie’s unfortunate English translation is doubly laughable when the cast has diction as excellent as this.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Victoria Simmonds as Hermia and Alfred Boe as Lysander in Act I Photo: Bill Cooper

Britten is enjoying something of a revival at the moment, with imminent or recent productions of his works at both of the capital’s major houses as well as around the UK and at two of the major music colleges. One opera which has enjoyed particular popularity this season is his version of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, given a cartoonish interpretation last summer at British Youth Opera and an ethereally magical one more recently by English Touring Opera. Now Robert Carsen’s production is back at the Coliseum, concentrating on the work’s eroticism and comedy – in a way it is a literal ‘bedroom farce’ with the whole stage consisting of a giant bed. Some of the less obvious humour is laugh-out-loud funny – the increasing dishevelment of the four lovers, for example – while the mechanicals’ play is a brilliant send-up of amateur theatre. Michael Levine’s set designs are very ‘visual’, with bright poster-paint greens and blues accentuating the surreality of the situations in which the characters find themselves.

The cast is mainly young. Sarah Tynan, in her first major role for the company, is an enchanting Tytania, singing sexily and confidently with a voice to match her petite beauty. Robin Blaze’s Oberon was beguiling in his vocal line, though I am not sure he would have been audible from the Balcony. The lovers – Linda Richardson, Victoria Simmonds, Alfred Boe and Leigh Melrose – were energetic and engaging. The mechanicals played well off one another. Two performers were outstanding – Peter Rose as Bottom and Emil Wolk as Puck. Both had great diction and comic timing and a rapport with the audience; the latter added acrobatic prowess into the equation. Contributions from members of the Trinity Boys Choir and the orchestra, under Paul Daniel, created a sound-world which made one entirely forget the gloomy weather outside.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: the 'Pyramus and Thisbe' scene in Act III (front, left to right) Peter Rose as Bottom (Pyramus), Robert Burt as Snout (the wall) and Christopher Gillett as Flute (Thisbe), (back) Leah-Marian Jones as Hippolyta and Iain Paterson as Theseus Photo: Bill Cooper

Towards the end of the month, the results of an exciting project by Opera North reached London – eight one-act operas, in various pairings but bookable separately, billed as ‘Eight Little Greats’. Most of the soloists sang roles in several operas, and the eight shows shared two directors (David Pountney and Christopher Alden) and three conductors (Martin André, James Holmes and David Parry). A single tour covering so many different styles and sub-genres can only be an aid to operatic accessibility, and indeed there did seem to be a large proportion of newcomers in the audience.

Opera North's Die sieben Todsünden: Adrian Clarke as the father and Graeme Broadbent as the mother (in front), and Iain Paton and Nicholas Sharratt as the brothers (at the back) Photo: Clive Barda

My favourite was Brecht and Weill’s commentary on human hypocrisy, Die sieben Todsünden, which benefited from a stunning sung performance from Rebecca Caine with the expressive dancer and choreographer Beate Vollack as her alter ego. The success of the staging of Puccini’s Il tabarro was principally due to the towering central pairing of Jonathan Summers and Nina Pavlovski, coupled with a strong supporting cast and a darkly atmospheric production. In Falla’s La vida breve, Mary Plazas was supremely committed as the fatally lovesick Salud, and Alden’s production – which, in a stroke of genius, he set in the daily drudgery of a wedding-dress factory - had plenty to say about the burdens of social expectation surrounding love, sexuality and marriage.

Opera North's Die sieben Todsünden: Beate Vollack as Anna II and Rebecca Caine as Anna I Photo: Clive Barda

A surprise hit was Zemlinsky’s Der Zwerg (The Dwarf), a fable about the human obsession with beauty and superficial refinement. Musically it is not dissimilar from light Richard Strauss with hints of Berg. Pountney’s staging got around the obvious political correctness problem by having the dwarf of the title as a perfectly normal-looking tenor (Paul Nilon, singing beautifully) with the rest of mankind exaggerated into grotesque caricature around him. It made for a fabulously colourful, weird, visually arresting show, and made the tragic denouement – where the dwarf finally sees his own reflection and dies of grief at his own inadequacy – doubly poignant, highlighting the misery of an ordinary person in an image-driven world.

Opera North's Der Zwerg: Graeme Broadbent as Don Estoban and Stefanie Krahnenfeld as the Infanta Photo: Stephan Vaughan

The other four operas were less successful. Pagliacci, the best-known of the eight, had some really interesting ideas about the pitfalls of showbusiness but failed to join them together into a coherent dramatic structure, and Geraint Dodd sounded dry and strained in the role of Canio. Rakhmaninov’s Francesca da Rimini had a terrific cast (Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts, Nina Pavlovski and Jonathan Summers) but there wasn’t much of a staging. Bizet’s Djamileh was well-sung and decently acted but the production was drab and it isn’t a terribly prepossessing piece to begin with. And Rossini’s L’occasione fa il ladro – normally translated as Opportunity Makes the Thief, but here billed as Love’s Luggage Lost – had a stage full of cheap props and a translation full of cheap jokes. I got lost in the intricacies of the typically convoluted plot quite early on, and did not have the inclination to try to find my way out.

Opera North's Francesca da Rimini: the chorus as the souls of the damned Photo: Bill Cooper

Though the quality of the operas was variable, the orchestra played convincingly in all eight. In terms of repertoire, the only change I might have made was to trade Pagliacci (as verismo was represented elsewhere by Tabarro) for a baroque opera or masque, perhaps Dido and Aeneas. Most of the roles could have been cast from the existing core of principals.

All things considered, the venture was a success, and perhaps it is a format which other companies may wish to explore. To anybody considering it, it is worth learning one important lesson from Opera North’s experiment: quality is doubly important when there are so many contrasting works and productions. The better the strongest show is, the worse it will make the weak ones look.

Opera North's Pagliacci: Geraint Dodd as Canio and Majella Cullagh as Nedda Photo: Bill Cooper

This month also saw the launch of Opera Holland Park’s 2004 season, with productions of Norma and La fanciulla del West. West London’s small festival-style company pulled off a coup by securing the services of Nelly Miricioiu for the title role in Norma; however, having already heard her sing the role in concert at Covent Garden, I settled for a performance sung by Elizabeth Blancke-Biggs, an American soprano who also sang the title role in the majority of the Fanciulla performances (again, not the one I attended). Blancke-Biggs’s Norma was more than adequate; she has a strong, penetrating soprano, secure of coloratura and legato. The Pollione, Don Bernardini, made a very weak start and didn’t get much better – he is simply too light for the role – but Conal Coad’s Oroveso was sympathetic and vocally warm. The real star was Diana Montague as Adalgisa, who sounded like a woman half her age and gave by far the most complete dramatic performance. The chorus was disappointing, if only because there were far too few of them to make any real impression, and Brad Cohen’s conducting brought no surprises but kept things ticking over for the singers.

In Jo Davies’s staging of La fanciulla del West, the second-cast American soprano Jean Glennon sang with confidence and style, though her acting was rather wooden – the same can be said of tenor Ravil Atlas as Dick Johnson. It was Oli Sigurdarson, as Jack Rance, who gave the most classy all-round performance. Even so, it was a terrifically atmospheric performance, both musically and dramatically, and there were few weak links among the large cast of comprimario singers. Will Bowen’s all-purpose set worked very well, and John Gibbons’s reading of the score was lyrically evocative of Puccini’s picturesque image of the American West.

Chelsea Opera Group brought a home-grown cast to the Queen Elizabeth Hall on June 6 for a blistering performance of Giordano’s Andrea Chénier. The hall was not full, though it deserved to be, with everybody putting so much passion into the performance.

An opera about a poet who is also a revolutionary must be a gift for any masculine, romantic tenor, and indeed it suited Julian Gavin perfectly. He is an inconsistent singer, but when he’s on form he has few equals. Although the audience had been asked not to applaud until the end of the act, few would begrudge him the spontaneous ovation he received after his Act 1 aria. As Maddalena, Claire Rutter had hardly anything to sing for the first half of the opera, but once her role came into its own she sang beautifully and matched Gavin in his intensity. Simon-Neal’s dark-toned voice was perfect for Gérard, though he had a few painful lapses of intonation. The luxury casting was evident throughout the line-up, with the likes of veteran dramatic soprano Pauline Tinsley in the tiny role of Madelon.

The group’s amateur chorus, it has to be said, were not at their best, with some poor tuning from the ladies and reediness from the tenors and basses. The orchestra and soloists, on the other hand, gave the sort of performance that will linger in the memory for a long time.

The month also saw two fine concert performances from visiting international companies. Zürich Opera’s Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg came to the Royal Festival Hall on June 21 (appropriately, as Midsummer’s Day is the setting for the opera) under the baton of Franz Welser-Möst. There were strong central performances from José van Dam as Hans Sachs, Peter Seiffert as Walther and Michael Volle as Beckmesser. This ensemble which is known for its unfailing musicality, has an ongoing relationship with the South Bank venue and is an asset to London’s operatic scene. Welser-Möst is renowned for lending Wagner a Mozart-like clarity, and his return here next year with a Mozart opera, La clemenza di Tito, is eagerly awaited.

At the Barbican, Concerto Köln’s Le nozze di Figaro seemed over-long, with both Marcellina’a and Basilio’s arias restored to Act 4, and some slow tempi from conductor René Jacobs (except for the final number in each act where he seemed to be accelerating for take-off!) The soloists were at the heart of the opera’s success, particularly Rosemary Joshua’s delectable Susanna and Angelika Kirchschlager’s gawky Cherubino; Annette Dasch’s performance as the Countess was lyrical and introspective. Luca Pisaroni gave a focussed comic performance as Figaro and Pietro Spagnoli was a suave Count. In a year when London is playing host to at least five Figaros in as many months, the superb cast sent this one to the top of the list even without scenery.

The Royal Opera season ends next month with Ariadne auf Naxos, Peter Grimes and Tosca (which we are promised will be the last outing for the legendary Zeffirelli production). English National Opera stages a free outdoor performance of La bohème in he recently pedestrianised Trafalgar Square. Holland Park’s season concludes with productions of Die Fledermaus, La bohème, Luisa Miller and Le nozze di Figaro, and Garsington Festival Opera will give a semi-staged performance of Cosi fan tutte at the Barbican. This year’s Proms begin on July 16, featuring a performance of Dmitrij (a Dvorak rarity) during the opening weekend of the season.

© Ruth Elleson, 5 July 2004 

July 

Peter Grimes at the Royal Opera: with Ben Heppner in the title role Photo: Clive Barda

Director Willy Decker brought a bold production of Peter Grimes to the Royal Opera House this month, an import from Brussels. There is little evocation of the Suffolk coast; after all, the music is so much imbued with the necessary colours and sounds that an adventurous director is free to experiment more than with most works. One of the key themes of Decker’s vision is the stultifying inflexibility of the community which its members are so determined to ‘protect’ while semi-covertly living much more interesting and often hypocritical lives of their own.

Returning from a lengthy spell of much-publicised vocal problems, Ben Heppner gave the best performance of the title role that I can remember seeing - one that I am sure he will look back on as a defining moment in his career. It was a real all-round performance of strength and vulnerability; his Act 2 monologue had a sense of aching wonder, and his mad scene was gripping. This huge hulk of a man showed such touchingly deep affection for his tiny apprentice that his violent outbursts were all the more alarming.

Peter Grimes at the Royal Opera: (from left) Ailish Tynan as first niece, Janice Watson as Elleen Orford, Anne Collins as Auntie, and Helen Williams as second niece Photo: Clive Barda

Janice Watson’s Ellen Orford was beautifully sung, and having been familiar with this role for several years, she is now beginning to make something of the words. The quartet at the close of Act 2 Scene 1, with Anne Collins as Auntie and Helen Williams and Ailish Tynan as the two Nieces, was a very fine example of ensemble work. Alan Opie’s Balstrode and Sarah Walker’s Mrs Sedley were both detailed character portraits.

Peter Grimes at the Royal Opera: Ben Heppner as Grimes and Gabriel Sassi Mayoral Galindo as the apprentice Photo: Clive Barda

In fact, the ensemble cast was excellent throughout, and Antonio Pappano drew a particularly impressive depth of colour from the orchestra and chorus. The performance of the crowd is the lynch-pin of this opera, and the final image of Decker’s production will remain with me for a long time: the community, who earlier lifted hymn-sheets to their faces in order to block out the presence of Grimes, are eventually joined - after the music has finished, but before the curtain comes down - by Balstrode, and finally, Ellen.

Ariadne auf Naxos at the Royal Opera House: Susan Graham as the composer and Diana Damrau as Zerbinetta Photo: Clive Barda

A controversial story surrounded the first revival of Christof Loy’s staging of Ariadne auf Naxos a few months ago when it emerged that Deborah Voigt, who had been booked for the title role, had departed from the production due to ‘artistic differences’. On this occasion, this euphemism referred to the inability of the ample Ms Voigt to carry off Ariadne’s slinky black dress. Though I disagree in principle with the practice of casting for looks where there is no dramatic reason for a character to look a particular way, this is an exception I can almost understand. Perhaps it was seen as an operatic parody too far, to have the Prima Donna played by the stereotypical fat soprano.

Ariadne auf Naxos: (from left) Jeremy White as Truffaldino, Christopher Lemmings as Scaramuccio, Anne Schwanewilms as Ariadne and Grant Doyle as Harlequin Photo: Clive Barda

The slim and beautiful singer who was cast in Voigt’s place was the German soprano Anne Schwanewilms, who was a revelatory Chrysothemis in last season’s Elektra, and who sang the role of Ariadne as a late replacement for Katarina Dalayman at the Barbican four years ago. She did indeed look a treat in the dress, but in the end that is hardly the point; she produced some gleaming, radiant top notes, but really I longed for the volume and ‘juice’ of Voigt’s voice. Would I have felt this way if Voigt’s name had never been part of the equation? Yes, probably.

Susan Graham sang the Composer with characteristic feeling, but seemed less eloquent than usual. Richard Margison was a strong, solid Tenor/Bacchus (but certainly no oil painting - how come he’s allowed to be large and plain when Ariadne isn’t?). The smaller roles were admirably performed. The evening’s star, though, was Diana Damrau as Zerbinetta – a sexy, funny, virtuosic, completely vocally secure Diana Dors lookalike in a series of eye-popping costumes, some of them new to this revival.

Tosca at Covent Garden: Maria Guleghina in the title role and Yu Qiang Dai as Cavaradossi Photo: Bill Cooper

The season went out with one final chance to see Franco Zeffirelli’s classic staging of Tosca, a production which has notched up over 400 performances since it first opened in 1964 with Maria Callas in the title role, and which has been directed since 2000 by John Cox. It is such a well-known production that I am not even going to pass comment on the staging.

Two casts shared a short and concentrated run of performances, of which I saw the (chronological) first. I have heard Maria Guleghina in the title role of this production before; she still has a tendency to overplay the melodrama, but is generally a fine Tosca. Yu Qiang Dai’s Cavaradossi was really something - his voice perhaps lacks that last bit of full-blooded lyricism, but he gave it his all, and I have no doubt we will be seeing him back on the stage at Covent Garden very soon. Samuel Ramey’s Scarpia had obviously had a fair amount of thought put into it; rather than being a pantomime villain, which is a common problem with this character, he played fiendish mind-games with Tosca.

Maria Guleghina as Tosca and Samuel Ramey as Scarpia Photo: Bill Cooper

Christian Badea’s conducting left a lot to be desired; there were long pauses between lines in the more conversational moments of Act 1, and at the start of ‘Vissi d’arte’ it was so slow as to almost bring the music to a halt. Puccini knew what he was doing, and that aria has an innate sense of stillness and introspection which the conductor need not stress too strongly.

According to all the rumours, the company’s next new staging of the opera will be along a couple of seasons from now, starring Angela Gheorghiu and Roberto Alagna – but more on that if and when it happens.

Maria Guleghina as Tosca in the last scene of the opera Photo: Bill Cooper

English National Opera had intended to give an open-air performance of La bohème in Trafalgar Square on 6 July. I did wonder quite how the company intended to reconcile the broad daylight and warm weather with the frozen darkness of a Parisian winter’s evening, but regrettably I never got the chance to find out. After a couple of days of glorious weather, the storm clouds started gathering, and an afternoon of torrential rain led to the decision to cancel the performance.

In fact, it was not cancelled altogether; ENO still had a couple of thousand employees of the mobile phone company O2 (who funded the event) to entertain, and a private performance went ahead inside the Coliseum with a handful of the determined public allowed into the Balcony - the Coliseum has less than half the capacity of the Square.

I shall not dwell on the details of the performance, which was a semi-staged adaptation of the company’s standard Stephen Pimlott production; it was unfortunate that what should have been the most ‘accessible’ operatic event of the operatic calendar should have been turned into a corporate party, but there is little that can be done about the British weather, and money talks in the arts. Two days later when I was sitting in the Royal Opera House for Ariadne, the theme of conflict between artistic expression and financial necessity seemed all the more apposite.

Opera Holland Park's La bohème: Natasha Marsh as Musetta in Act II Photo: Fritz Curzon

Another La bohème provided rather more satisfaction, even if it was one of the weaker points of what has been an outstanding season at Holland Park. Here there seemed to be no dramatic attempt to escape from the external reality of heat and daylight; while complaining about the cold, the bohemians were dressed for spring. Even in the freezing February morning of the third act, the ladies of the chorus looked perfectly content with their lightweight coats and bare legs.

Jamie Hayes supplied a lively production. Sometimes, as in Act 1, it was to the detriment of the opera’s intimacy. The garret became a lively studio, with artists and kids milling around - plenty, in fact, to distract Rodolfo (Sean Ruane) and Marcello (Howard Quilla Croft) from the non-existent cold. Riccardo Simonetti (Schaunard) and Timothy Dawkins (Colline) completed the energetic quartet of students, with Dawkins putting in a most notable vocal performance.

La bohème: Sean Ruane as Rodolfo and Howard Quilla Croft as Marcello in Act IV Photo: Fritz Curzon

Of course when Act 2 came around, the energy found its proper outlet, although there was little originality - like virtually every new production of this opera, we ended up somewhere in the mid-20th-century, with the chorus portraying a range of characters which can be checked off a standard list. In this case the scene was stolen, as it should be, by Natasha Marsh’s glittering blonde-bombshell Musetta, who came complete with secure top notes, comic timing and a white 'Seven Year Itch' dress.

The promising spinto soprano Katarina Jovanovic was rather miscast as Mimi, although she has plenty of voice and lyricism, and a way of creating a quiet tranquillity which is essential to the character. The problem was more that she needs to learn how to move on stage. Not for one moment did I believe that this was a dying woman, and yet she could have turned it all around by paying just a bit more attention to body language. Dominic Wheeler’s conducting was well-intentioned, but really what this production needed was a little more heart.

La bohème: Howard Quilla Croft as Marcello, Katarina Jovanovic as Mimi, Sean Ruane as Rodolfo, Timothy Dawkins as Colline and Riccardo Simonetti as Schaunard in Act IV Photo: Fritz Curzon

I could make the same observation about the often riotously funny production of Die Fledermaus on the same stage, sung in English (as, in my opinion, any British show with a high volume of jokes should be). Set in the 1930s with a dazzling white set and dancers in platinum blonde wigs (along similar lines to Jonathan Miller’s production of The Mikado for the English National Opera), it was all style and little substance, but fortunately, this show can get away with it.

Charles Johnston was in excellent voice as Eisenstein and knew how to play to the crowd, while I was pleased to see Christine Bunning, who I had previously only encountered in serious roles, make such a good job of Rosalinde. It was a shame that the rain started hammering down upon the theatre’s canvas