20 Jun 2011
Don Pasquale, Opera Holland Park
As it turned out, it was a mild and mainly dry evening.
Central City Opera celebrated the 60th anniversary of The Ballad of Baby Doe with a hip, canny, multi-faceted new production.
Someone forgot to tell Central City Opera that it would be difficult to fit Puccini’s (usually) architecturally large Tosca on their small stage.
A cast worthy of Bayreuth made for an unforgettable Wagnerian experience at the Sommer Festspiele in Baden-Baden.
Loving attention to the highest quality was everywhere evident in Des Moines Metro Opera’s Manon.
Des Moines Metro Opera had (almost) all the laughs in the right places, and certainly had all the right singers in these meaty roles to make for an enjoyable outing with Verdi’s masterpiece
With the thermometers reaching boiling point, there’s no doubt that summer has finally arrived in London. But, the sun seems to have been shining over the large marquee in Holland Park all summer.
J.S. Bach’s cerebral Art of the Fugue in Aix, Verdi’s massive Requiem in Orange, Ibn al-Muqaffa’ ‘s fable of the camel, jackal, wolf and crow, Sophocles’ blind Oedipus Rex and the Bible’s triumphant Psalm No. 150 in Aix.
The champagne corks popped at the close of this year’s Jette Parker Young Artists Summer Performance at the Royal Opera House, with Prince Orlofsky’s celebratory toast forming a fitting conclusion to some superb singing.
Bryn Terfel is making a habit of performing Russian patriarchs at the Proms.
What happens when just everything about an operatic performance goes joyously right?
Two years ago, the well-established Des Moines Metro Opera experimented with a 2nd Stages program, with performances programmed outside of their home stage at Simpson College.
What to make of the unannounced decision to open this concert with the Marseillaise? I am sure it was well intended, and perhaps should leave it at that.
In a fairy-tale, it can sometimes feel as if one is living a dream but on the verge of being awoken to a shock. Such is life in these dark and uncertain days.
The tense, three hour knock-down-drag-out seduction of Beauty by Pleasure consumed our souls in this triumphal evening. Forget Time and Disillusion as destructors, they were the very constructors of the beauty and pleasure found in this miniature oratorio.
Three parallel universes (before losing count) — the ephemeral Debussy/Maeterlinck masterpiece, the Debussy symphonic tone poem, and the twisted intricacies of a moldy, parochially English country estate.
This, alas, was where I had to sign off. A weekend conference on Parsifal (including, on the Saturday, a showing of Hans-Jürgen Syberberg’s Parsifal film) mean that I missed Götterdämmerung, skipping straight to the sequel.
The culmination of Opera North’s “Ring for Everyone”, this Götterdämmerung showed the power of the condensed movement so necessary in a staged performance - each gesture of each character was perfectly judged - as well as the visceral power of having Wagner’s huge orchestra on stage as opposed to the pit.
Michael Grandage's production of Mozart's Le nozze di Figaro, which was new in 2012, returned to Glyndebourne on 3 July 2016 revived by Ian Rutherford.
Said and done the audience roared its enjoyment of the performance, reserving even greater enthusiasm to greet stage director Christophe Honoré with applauding boos and whistles that bespoke enormous pleasure, complicity and befuddlement.
‘A century after the Somme, who still stands with Britain?’ So read a headline in yesterday’s Evening Standard on the eve of the centenary of the first day of that battle which, 141 days later, would grind to a halt with 1,200,000 British, French, German and Allied soldiers dead or injured.
As it turned out, it was a mild and mainly dry evening.
Opera festivals — indeed, all outdoor or semi-outdoor activities — in the UK are in thrall to the vagaries of the weather, and as I write this review in early June I am sitting in my living-room, listening to the rain battering on the window and hoping it might clear up by the time I have to go to Glyndebourne in two days’ time.
For Opera Holland Park, whose theatre is ultimately a tent (albeit a highly sophisticated one) in which the sounds and light quality of the outside world are an inevitable part of the show, director Stephen Barlow has harnessed the characteristic changeable gloom of the British summer to create a modern and very British Don Pasquale that will resonate with anybody used to taking seaside holidays in this country. It is an ingenious treatment, finely honed by the work of lighting designer Mark Jonathan, which I cannot imagine would work as well in any other theatre. It almost made a virtue of the frequent noises-off from aeroplanes passing overheard and children playing elsewhere in the park.
The opera is sung in the original Italian, and Pasquale’s drab, tatty beach café is arbitrarily Italian (in the surtitles, Pasquale refers to it throughout as his ‘casa’). Its menu, however, consists of fish and chips or pie and mash, and there is no question that we are on the British coast — a world of striped awnings, deckchairs for hire, pensioners picnicking on benches with home-made sandwiches and a Thermos. Crucially, it’s the world of another phenomenon with its roots in Italian culture but adopted by the British as their own — the end-of-pier Punch and Judy show, an idea which, while never overtly suggested, Barlow recreates in spirit with a staging which served this peculiarly mean-spirited opera well with a combination of broad visual comedy and vicious humour.
None of the characters in Don Pasquale are obviously sympathetic. Even Ernesto, for all he’s been given the best of Donizetti’s lyrical melody to in which to bewail his uncle’s attempt to disinherit him, is ultimately a lazy freeloader who has grown too used to taking advantage of his old uncle’s generosity. While Pasquale is unquestionably in need of being taught a lesson in respect of his view of women, the bullying he suffers at the hands of everybody else in the cast goes much too far and you can’t help but feel sorry for the old man. It’s cynical, cruel and unashamedly selfish.
The visual humour was plentiful, with some laugh-out-loud moments. The fresh-from-the-convent “Sofronia” whipped off a full nun’s habit to reveal a sexy scarlet number, and in Act 3 was “revealed” in a more grotesquely extravagant get-up still, draped across the counter of her newly refurbished “Café Corneti” like a swimwear model across the bonnet of a sports car.
Donald Maxwell as Don Pasquale and Richard Burkhard as Dr Malatesta
Meanwhile, a series of peripheral gags involving walk-on characters from the chorus further highlighted the general tone of the production. Don Pasquale’s outdated attitudes are underlined by his gleefully lascivious reaction to the sight of two scantily-clad young lady joggers, and disapproving glances towards a male gay couple with a baby (they are later revealed not to be a couple at all, but the partners of the joggers). Meanwhile, a casual user of a coin-operated telescope on the seafront has his gaze distracted by the sight of the snazzily-attired Norina provocatively applying sun lotion to her décolleté, much to the annoyance of his long-suffering pregnant wife.
Top vocal honours went to the Ernesto, the South African tenor Colin Lee who is now deservedly enjoying a high-profile international career. He has a personable stage presence, and a voice at the more substantially rounded end of the flexible bel canto tenor spectrum, with bright liquid tone which pings right to the back of the auditorium. In the title role, opera buffa veteran Donald Maxwell was highly entertaining when the action demanded, but on the whole he was more sympathetic and genuine than most, offering a rare degree of balance. Richard Burkhard’s Malatesta had a well-schooled voice and engaging personality.
Majella Cullagh as Norina
I have admired Majella Cullagh in numerous Donizetti roles in the past, but sadly felt that she was miscast as Norina; her light, vinegary soprano did open up somewhat as the evening progressed, but she remained overpowered by her colleagues during the ensembles. And as spirited and entertaining as her performance was, she made rather a matronly heroine — believable perhaps as the scheming merry widow (there’s no reason at all why Ernesto’s lover shouldn’t be somewhat older than him), but hardly convincing as the nubile young bride who the lecherous Pasquale believes is the embodiment of his fantasies.
In the pit was bel canto’s supreme champion, Richard Bonynge, looking spry and conducting with poised lyricism.
All in all a strong, entertaining and memorable opening to Opera Holland Park’s 2011 season, and one which turns this unique theatre’s many idiosyncrasies to its advantage. One of next year’s operas is Falstaff, which has immense potential in a theatre which loses natural daylight as the performance progresses; let us hope the director makes the most of it.
Ruth Elleson © 2011