Recently in Performances
Opera houses’ neglect of Janáček remains one of the most baffling of the many baffling aspects of the ‘repertoire’. At least three of the composer’s operas would be perfect introductions to the art form: Jenůfa, Katya Kabanova, or The Cunning Little Vixen would surely hook most for life. From the House of the Dead might do likewise for someone of a rather different disposition, sceptical of opera’s claims and conventions.
Director Annabel Arden believes that Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia is ‘all about playfulness, theatricality, light and movement’. It’s certainly ‘about’ those things and they are, as Arden suggests, ‘based in the music’.
George Enescu’s Oedipe was premiered in Paris 1936 but it has taken 80 years for the opera to reach the stage of Covent Garden. This production by Àlex Ollé (a member of the Catalan theatrical group, La Fura Dels Baus) and Valentina Carrasco, which arrives in London via La Monnaie where it was presented in 2011, was eagerly awaited and did not disappoint.
Lyric Opera of Chicago staged Charles Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette as the last opera in its current subscription season.
‘The plot is perhaps the least moral in all opera; wrong triumphs in the name of love and we are not expected to mind.’
Anthony Minghella’s production of Madame Butterfly for ENO is
wearing well. First seen in 2005, it is now being aired for the sixth time and is still, as I observed in 2013, ‘a breath-taking visual banquet’.
This concert version of La straniera felt like a compulsory musicology field trip, but it had enough vocal flashes to lobby for more frequent performances of this midway Bellini.
As poetry is the harmony of words, so music is that of notes; and as poetry is a rise above prose and oratory, so is music the exaltation of poetry.
From experiments with musique concrète in the 1940s, to the
Minimalists’ explorations into tape-loop effects in the 1960s, via the
appearance of hip-hop in the 1970s and its subsequent influence on electronic
dance music in the 1980s, to digital production methods today,
‘sampling’ techniques have been employed by musicians working in
genres as diverse as jazz fusion, psychedelic rock and classical music.
On May 7, 2016, San Diego Opera presented the West Coast premiere of Great Scott, an opera by Terrence McNally and Jake Heggie. McNally’s original libretto pokes fun at everything from football to bel canto period opera. It includes snippets of nineteenth century tunes as well as Heggie's own bel canto writing.
A foiled abduction, a castle-threatening inferno, romantic infatuation, guilt-laden near-suicide, gun-shots and knife-blows: Andrea Leone Tottola’s libretto for Vincenzo Bellini’s first opera, Adelson e Salvini, certainly does not lack dramatic incident.
Opera as an art form has never shied away from the grittier shadows of life. Nor has Manitoba Opera, with its recent past productions dealing with torture, incest, murder and desperate political prisoners still so tragically relevant today.
Published in 1855 as an entertainment for his two daughters, William Makepeace Thackeray’s The Rose and the Ring is a burlesque fairy-tale whose plot — to the author’s wilful delight, perhaps — defies summation and elucidation.
What more fitting memorial for composer Peter Maxwell Davies (d. 03/14/2016) than a splendid performance of The Lighthouse, the third of his eight works for the stage.
I suspect that many of those at the Wigmore Hall for The King’s
Consort’s performance of the La Senna festeggiante (The
Rejoicing Seine) were lured by the cachet of ‘Antonio Vivaldi’ and
further enticed by the notion of a lover’s serenade at which the generic
term ‘serenata’ seems to hint.
Having enjoyed superb singing by a young cast of soloists in Classical
Opera’s UK premiere of Jommelli’s Il Vogoleso the
previous evening, I was delighted that the 2016 Kathleen Ferrier Awards Final
at the Wigmore Hall confirmed the strength and depth of talent possessed by the
young singers studying in and emerging from our academies and conservatoires.
On February 7, 1786, Emperor Joseph II of Austria had brand new one-act operas by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Antonio Salieri performed in the Schönbrunn Palace’s Orangery.
Those poor opera lovers in Cologne have a never ending problem with the city’s opera house. Together with the rest of city, the construction of the new opera house is mired in political incompetence.
London remains starved of Wagner. This season, its major companies offer but two works, Tannhäuser from the Royal Opera and Tristan from ENO.
Dmitry Bertman’s hilarious staging of Rimsky-Korsakov’s political sex-comedy The Golden Cockerel in Düsseldorf.
14 Nov 2007
Aida at ENO
After the marketing gimmickry of Sally Potter’s production of Carmen, and a dance-based Poppea set at the bottom of the sea, it did not bode well when the advertising for ENO’s latest
production included an interactive dress-up doll circulated by email.
The company currently
seems obsessed with ‘hooking’ a new audience, while giving little thought to delivering a
consistent standard of meaningful theatrical output which might encourage this audience to stay
and explore the operatic medium further.
The ‘hook’ for Jo Davies’s new production of Aida (in collaboration with the opera companies of
Houston and Oslo) was the prospect of sets and costumes by the iconic British designer Zandra
Rhodes – hence the dress-up doll – and it was Rhodes’s name which dominated the publicity
Rhodes’s creation is a riot of colour in stylised, exaggerated versions of authentic Ancient
Egyptian designs. The men’s chorus sport voluminous gold skirts and bald-caps painted with
turquoise zigzags; Amneris is entertained by orange-clad child dancers in a room with intricate
wing-patterned windows, and Radamès makes his Act 2 triumphal entrance on a fabulous
turquoise-and-gold elephant puppet amid a shower of gold. These are the garish ceremonial
colours of the Egyptian armies; the Ethiopians have earthier colours, browns and burnt reds and
yellows. Diagonally-hung scenic draperies slide back and forth to create pyramid-shaped spaces;
the final scene is highly effective as a triangular space closes in on Aida and Radamès.
Crucially, behind the zany turquoise headdresses and lavish visuals, Jo Davies has created a
straightforward, ultra-traditional reading of Verdi’s drama which focuses on the central love
triangle and Aida’s internal struggle. It is refreshingly gimmick-free and invites the audience to
care about the characters. Furthermore, the singing is terrific.
Two singers are particularly outstanding; Claire Rutter, who sings the title role for the first time
and does so with total commitment and unfailingly lovely tone, and Iain Paterson, also in his role
début as Amonasro, a former ENO Young Artist whose bass-baritone is now impressively
refined and compelling (his future engagements include Gunther at the Met).
Full stage with Jane Dutton (Amneris) and Gwynne Howell (The Pharaoh) centre
Tenor John Hudson may be short on vocal ‘edge’ but he sings Radamès with power in the big
moments at the end of Act 1 and the Nile Scene, and remarkable sensitivity in the quieter
passages, including a proper diminuendo on the final B-flat of ‘Celeste Aida’. Jane Dutton’s
Amneris is vocally capable, but it’s her characterisation that would really benefit from more
depth. For the first two acts at least, she comes across as little more than a smug,
two-dimensional cartoon villain; there’s little evidence of the personal pain behind her
victimisation of Aida. After the Nile Scene, suddenly there’s some depth and real drama. (One
weakness of the staging as a whole, in fact, is that it doesn’t really start to take itself seriously
until the second half.)
Add into the mix the two distinguished basses – Gwynne Howell as the King of Egypt and
Brindley Sherratt as Ramfis – and the cast is one of which any top-rank international house
would be proud. In the pit, conductor Edward Gardner makes delicate work of the score’s soft
opening and the calm reverence of the ‘Possente Ptha’ scene, but pulls the stops out for the
warmongering in Act 1 and the big stuff of Act 2.
For once, the formula seems to be right. Attract the punters with a well-known opera title and a
big-name designer, and keep them entertained with first-class music making, a visual spectacle,
and a production which acknowledges that the intimate stuff is most important of all. ENO
should treat this as a salutary lesson.
Ruth Elleson © 2007