Britten’s ‘Peter Grimes’ – ENO – The Coliseum
29 May 2009 Leave a Comment
in ENO Reviews
Having spent almost a year avoiding the English National Opera – because they insist on singing everything in English – I returned last night to see David Alden’s new production of Peter Grimes. It was such a forceful, brilliant performance that I was overcome with tears in every act and every interlude, not just because of the tragic subject matter, but because of the pure, perfection of the music. When a piece of music is so evocative that you can see the ocean in your minds eye from the first chord – or dischord, as the case often is – it can be called nothing if not awe-inspiring.
Set in a small seaside town, Peter Grimes tells the story of a fisherman whose young apprentice died while they were at sea. Being an outcast, Peter immediately has the finger pointed at him, and although the court rules that the cause of death was accidental, the town is eager to blame Peter who has always been something of an outcast. When, against the judge’s advice, he takes on another apprentice, his coarse, rough ways are sure to lead once again to tragedy under the pressure of the gossiping townspeople.
John Daszak, taking over from Stuart Skelton for the last two performances, had some big shoes to fill as Peter Grimes. After the success of Skelton’s Grimes, it must have been a daunting, if exciting, challenge, to which Daszak rose superbly. He found the balance between the coarse, clumsiness of Grimes the fisherman, and the quiet, lonely discomfort of Grimes the outcast. His powerful singing was seemingly effortless, while he appeared to put everything into the physical side of this emotional struggle, throwing himself around the stage with a perfect appearance of desperation. In his final scene Daszak was simply heartbreakingly brilliant as Grimes is seen in the midst of his insanity and deterioration. When he finally left the stage, walking away from the audience towards the grey, cloudy skyline, there was not a dry eye in the house, such was the power and beauty of the moment. An outstanding performance, which surely must be the greatest of his career and amongst the best Grimes’ ever to be seen at ENO.
Although initially flighty and slightly shrill Amanda Roocroft’s Ellen Orford grew and flourished into an incredible female presence and the shrillness seemed to become ever more appropriate, turning into poignance. I have never seen or heard anyone sing Ellen with such a sinister edge. Ellen is presented to the audience as a trustworthy character and we even seem to see Grimes through her eyes. But Roocroft managed to leave us, little by little, forcing us to make our own judgements about Grimes, while she seemed to become ever more accusing. Furthermore, we seems almost compelled to blame his inevitable demise on her, if not due the speed at which she turns her finger to point at him when she sees the bruise on John’s shoulder, but because of the faith she displays at the beginning, which just seems to be setting Grimes up for failure.
As Balstrode Gerald Finley was beyond reproach. Upstanding and wise, he was constantly a subtle, yet affecting stage presence, only seen when he needed to be, but always there, holding the boundaries of the town, seemingly exhausted by the gossiping ways of his neighbours. Rebecca de Pont Davies was refreshingly different as Auntie. Compared to the usual round-faced, accusing, matriarchal figure, this Auntie was a completely different experience. With neatly trimmed and sleeked back hair, she wore a pinstripe suit under a huge fur coat and sported a cane. A perfectly terrifying image of the townspeople, de Pont Davies carried the load of her character with poise and dark elegance, producing a voice of strength and accurate accusation. Meanwhile Leigh Melrose’s Ned Keene, the ahem ‘apothecary’ was the usual and perfectly appropriate cad. Slightly greasy and ever sexually inclined, he moved around the stage with a brilliant glitter in his eye. Melrose’s voice was brilliantly projected, ever enhancing his character. And then there were the Nieces, frightening and bizarre, portrayed by Gillian Ramm and Mairéad Buicke. Moving like mannequins, they seemed odd at first, but it soon became clear that they were there as the ever unattainable temptresses of the town. Still little girls – mostly seen in school uniforms – they had the self-knowing air of Lolita and the nonchalance of grown women. They sang their rare moments of music with perfect self-awareness and the dark laughter of girls who know their power over the men who will never possess them.
But of this incredible supporting cast, especial notice must be taken of Felicity Palmer’s Mrs Sedley. At first obsessed with the gain of her laudanum, she was displayed as a hypocritical drug addict claiming to have ‘never been in a pub’ in her life, who then turned into a terrifying gossip. Palmer’s breathtaking performance of a woman overcome by psychosis, living vicariously through the gossip of her neighbours, was incredible and she brought new meaning to a character who seems to be easily overlooked.
Equal attention must be paid to the chorus who displayed the necessary mob mentality with disturbing power. A louder, more menacing chorus, I have never heard. Meanwhile, the orchestra, conducted by ENO’s superb Musical Director, Edward Gardner, was perfect, evoking the sea with such clarity, I could not help but cry as the waves welled up inside me and everyone else in the Coliseum.
Working with Paul Steinberg’s astonishing set, Alden was able to bring out the subtleties of each character against the bleak and dreary backdrop of this small fishing town. Versatile, changing with every scene, the set was brilliantly conceived and perfectly executed, using stark angles to create the wide open expanse of the sea or the menacing enclosures of the town. This was most effective in the third act, where, in the first scene, set outside the Moot Hall, the stage was divided into two triangles, creating a sense of small alleyways and closed in areas, where the townspeople united against Grimes and the gossip spread, rising to boiling point. This was dramatically contrasted against the final scene. For the first time we see the stage, no props, flat and stark, on the beach, with just the light screen at the back, a dreary grey, cloudy sky, leaving Grimes all the space and emptiness necessary for his final demise.
But beyond the brilliance of the set, one must also acknowledge the astounding lighting design by Adam Silverman which enhanced this production even further. Utterly overwhelming, this came to a head in the final scene, when the surtitles were turned off, the orchestra pit went dark and we were forced, quite rightly, to watch Grimes’ final struggle, with no chance of looking away or escaping to anything else.
Tragically there is but one performance left in this run, but I would urge anyone who believes in the pure brilliance of Britten to fight, tooth and nail, for a ticket, and for the rest of you to pray for it’s revival.
Showing Britten at it’s absolute best and Alden at his most brilliant this is an utterly breathtaking production.
