A Life Operatic in London

Britten’s ‘The Turn of the Screw’ – ENO – The Coliseum

25 Oct 2009 Leave a Comment

by StellaB in ROH Reviews

I first saw this production in 2007 when it was new and for a very long time afterwards I considered The Turn of the Screw to be my favourite opera. In fact it is still the opera I know the best, which means I can be easily let down if a production does not deliver what I expect. Returning to ENO for it’s revival I was far from disappointed. David McVicar’s production is better than ever, still as haunting and beautiful as when it was new.

The set, designed by Tanya McCallin, ensures that this production never stops moving, creating a constant flow with the music, yet, by using huge windows and sparse furniture, it is still evocative of a great, unmoving country house. Furthermore, with Adam Silverman’s astonishing lighting design, every time a window is moved it seems to catch the light in a different way and create an entirely different space. At the back of the stage, mostly unseen but sometimes displayed for scenes outside, is a light screen which seems to let the brighter side of life into the dark house every once in a while. It is a wonderful contrast to the desperately dark and dingy house we see for most of the production. Through the set and the lighting and how well they work together, everything moves and I could hardly believe I had been sitting their for 50 minutes when the lights went down after Act I.

The whole cast, except Miles, was the same as it was in 2007, returning on top form. Rebecca Evans’ Governess was perfectly portrayed; a strong guardian when with the children and a frightened young woman when left alone. Although I have always felt that the Governess is rather over-dramatic as a character, Evans seems to justify it, showing her fear and her maternal love for the children in equal measure. Her voice was well projected throughout but she sometimes slurred her words a little too much, not displaying Piper’s beautiful libretto to it’s best advantage. Although I felt that she overused her vibrato in places, at other times it seemed a necessary ornamentation for what otherwise is a beautifully sparse production.

Ann Murray as Mrs Grose was truly astounding. On the one hand I always feel that of the six roles Miss Grose must be the least fun to play and is perhaps the least interesting character. However, Murray seems to entirely embody the role and create her as a wonderful character with whom I felt utter sympathy. Where the Governess seems somewhat mystical in her understanding of the children and what is going on, Mrs Grose is purely human and thus very relatable. Furthermore in Act I, Scene 5: The Window, Murray’s singing was truly spectacular and incredibly moving.

As Quint, Michael Colvin was dark, creepy and terrifying. His voice was well projected and, in it’s almost boyish edge, seemed incredibly evocative of Pears himself, for whom the role was created. As a stage presence he was powerful and haunting and his scenes with Miles were truly disturbing. Matching Quint in power and darkness was Cheryl Barker’s deeply frightening Miss Jessel. At points she even seemed more terrifying than Quint and was certainly creepy in entirely her own way. The high point in both their performances was their scene together, after the interval, in which Quint’s true nature seems to really shine through as we can see that even with his companions he is cruel and dismissive and utterly fixated on possessing Miles. During this scene Colvin and Barker were both fantastic, their voices well projected and their physicality spectacular as they twined together and moved apart.

As Miles, Hugh Beckwith was the image of purity and innocence, but with the voice of warning and the soul of someone truly possessed. Although his voice was perhaps a little too weak for the venue, he seem to gain confidence and sound in the second half, making the finale truly wonderful. Furthermore, Beckwith had a wonderful relationship with Evans on stage. She was able to play off him just as much as he was able to play off her. They moved wonderfully together and the sweet nature of his voice only proved to make it that bit more moving.

Having heard her sing Flora in 2007 when she was only in her second year at GSMD, it was a joy to see Nazan Fikret again and hear how wonderfully her voice has matured in just the last two years. As Flora she was wonderful, embodying childish mischief and singing with light agility and yet also an edge of haunting darkness. Of the two children, Flora is not naturally innocent, but she is still a child. When she sings “I can’t see anyone, I can’t see anything” it is truly incredible and Fikret creates it as a very haunting passage.

Conducted by the great Sir Charles Mackerras, the very small ENO orchestra was in incredible form. The timing seemed perfect throughout and the sound was amazing for such a small group of musicians. I am always amazed that it doesn’t seem to matter how large or small the orchestra is, they still always manage to use piano and forte as necessary and certainly don’t seem limited in sound.

It is becoming ever more apparent that David McVicar is simply a man who does not fail. I almost feel that it is now pointless for anyone else to try and produce The Turn of the Screw as they will never be able to create another production quite as good as this one. Ever moving, this is a wonderful evening at the opera.

Ravel’s ‘L’Heure Espagnole’ & Puccini’s ‘Gianni Schicchi’ – Royal Opera – ROH

21 Oct 2009 Leave a Comment

by StellaB in ROH Reviews

Although this might not seem like a production that would bring in the crowds, it is no wonder that this wonderful double bill has been revived. I am having severe trouble critiquing this work because it seems like this is how these operas were supposed to be seen. From set, to costumes, to singers, to direction, to orchestra, it was just an impeccably perfect evening.

The sets, designed by John Macfarlane, perfectly encased the drama, working with the space perfectly. For L’Heure Espagnole we were placed in a small, colourful Spanish clock shop. As the curtain came up the shop was at the back of the stage and as the introduction was played, the set slowly moved forward. This might seem like a superfluous excercise, but it was actually brilliant. As the music drew us in emotionally, we felt the story drawing us in visually. On one wall hung twenty or thirty clocks which were reflected in the glass shop front on the other side. The colours were cartoon-like which wonderfully reflected the cartoon-like stereotypes of the characters. Nicky Gillibrand’s costumes were equally colourful and bright, placing the characters perfectly within the set. Gianni Schicchi was set in a wider, fifties style room, which swept across the stage in a huge curve. The wall paper was pealing slightly and looked very dingy, but was still colourful enough to be in keeping with the Ravel which had preceded it. Furthermore, the costumes remained bright and colourful, almost seeming to enhance the characters against this background of death and thus making their greed and anger show out with almost visual acidity.

Standing in the small clock shop of L’Heure Espagnole was a marvelous cast of singers. Centre stage as the formidable Concepcion was Ruxundra Donose replacing the originally cast Christine Rice who had to cancel due to pregnancy (irony of ironies). Donose used her voice with wonderful clarity and was well projected throughout, while her acting and her physicality worked wonders. Had there been no music, I still feel this would have been something worth seeing. This was ever more true with Christopher Maltman’s muleteer Ramiro. His voice was rich and captivating and perfect for this piece. Physically he completely embodied the part, looking awkward and shy when necessary and growing beautifully into the young lover able to carry clocks and bankers endlessly up and down the stairs. Maltman also seemed to have the perfect face for this part – wide eyed and beautiful he was an utterly loveable muleteer. Meanwhile Yann Beuron was appropriately infuriating as Gonzalve, the poet. His voice floated beautifully above the rest of the cast with his wonderful lyrical lines and, all dressed in red, he moved with an air of utter unconsciousness. His scenes with Concepcion were hilarious as she desperately reached for him and he smoothly moved out of the way, completely unaware of her. Andrew Shore gave a good cameo as Don Inigo Gomez, acting the lustful banker with Concepcion and looking appropriately hilarious stuck inside the clock. Meanwhile Bonaventura Bottone’s Torquemada, Concepcion’s clockmaker husband, was the perfect opening and the perfect ending. Utterly oblivious to the drama that has occurred in his absence, he returns, simply happy to have so many customers. Bottone gave the part a good dose of trusting sincerity and sang beautifully. I do not think I have ever seen such a wonderful cast working so brilliantly together. I really cannot fault one of them.

Gianni Schicchi as an opera just seems to have too many characters. On the one hand it does fill the stage and create a wonderful sense of pandemonium, especially when they are searching for the will, while on the other hand it just means the audience never gets a sense for the real personalities of the people on stage, except perhaps for Gianni Schicchi himself. Thomas Allen’s wonderful portrayal of this working class Gianni Schicchi was funny and astute. He completely became the part of the working man, taking relish in being able to outsmart all the greedy Donatis. Elena Zilio’s Zita was the perfect matriarch for this angry, disinherited family. Bitter and cold, Zilio brought out everything in Zita that needed to be shown and sang with wonderful clarity and startling bitterness. As Rinuccio, Stephen Costello sang beautifully and was wonderfully doe-eyed throughout. For such a short piece he was simply the perfect, enamoured lover and his Lauretta, Maria Bengtsson, was likewise. Bentsson sang her aria ‘O mio babbino caro’ beautifully and didn’t overdo it, as is often the danger with such famous pieces. Instead it simply stood, quite rightly, to serve the piece. Gwynne Howell’s Simone was wonderful, his rich voice was well projected and his physicality on stage was perfect as the sudden-patriarch of the family, to whom everyone turns for advice. As the various family members all the singers sang their parts wonderfully. Marie McLaughlin and Janis Kelly (making her long overdue Royal Opera debut) gave wonderful performances as the in-laws, exaggerating every emotion in their physicality and projecting well. As their husbands Robert Poulton and Alan Oke were equally well placed and also sang very well. Overall this was a cast which worked together very well and although I felt I would never be able to figure out quite who was who, this is far more the fault  of Puccini than it is of any of these wonderful singers.

This was an utterly enjoyable evening. I cannot remember the last time I went to the opera and actually laughed out loud. It was funny, clever, witty, bright – the list is endless. I hope it is not seen as blasphemy for me to say that the Ravel worked better simply because it is a finer piece than the Puccini. By having just five characters and creating them as stereotypes, we really are able to get to know them in this small space of time. Furthermore, the story is better. This is not to say that the Puccini has no merit whatsoever – it is very funny and when produced as well as this, utterly enjoyable.

As usual Antonio Pappano and the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House were on top form. Pappano really does seem to be a man who never fails. The orchestra is always under wonderful control and he serves the singers and the music beautifully. Anything he is conducting is sure to have a strong orchestra, no matter what is happening onstage.

Special attention must be paid to Mimi Jordan Sherin’s wonderful lighting design. Every moment was spectacularly lit. While warm light flowed through the shop window in L’Heure Espagnole, the Donati’s were constantly turning the overhead lights on and off, moving from the warm brightness of a 30 watt lightbulb, to the cold light of day. It was really quite, quite beautiful.

Richard Jones’ direction was absolutely impeccable and the whole production sparkled with brilliance. It was perfect in every way. I am having trouble remembering an evening at the opera which was quite as perfect as this. Of course, I am sure much of the credit for this fresh vibrancy must go to Elaine Kidd, the revival director. I did not see this production back in 2007, so it is hard for me to say how much of the production is her and how much comes straight from Jones. But either way, all you need to know is that it is a wonderful night at the opera.

I sincerely hope it will be revived again so that I can take all of my friends. This is comedy too good to miss and light opera at it’s absolute best.

L'Heure Espagnole & Gianni Schicchi (2007 & 2009)

Bizet’s ‘Carmen’ – Royal Opera – ROH

14 Oct 2009 3 Comments

by StellaB in ROH Reviews

With an opera that is performed as often as Carmen it seems like a tough job trying to bring much originality to it. With so many past productions, opera houses the world over have done it all. But that is precisely what makes Francesca Zambello’s production so wonderful. She has gone back to the roots of this opera and come out with a classic production that is earthy and sumptuous and simply everything Carmen should be. Fiery and seductive, the whole production oozes heat and sexuality. Having spent the last year or so primarily in the world of challenging German opera it was incredibly rewarding to return to the world of popular opera, which gives so much and demands so little from it’s audience. I don’t mean to say that the audience doesn’t give anything, but Carmen is certainly an easily – if not the most easily – accessible opera out there and Zambello’s production only serves to amplify that feeling of satisfaction.

Tanya McCallin’s designs really produced the ultimate Carmen set. With huge towering earthy red walls which could be moved to create each different space for each act, it was utterly evocative of Spain. Clearly it was a design aimed at realism, with a water trough in the centre of the square in act one and an orange tree, but you can get away with being classic and unsurprising as long as you do it with utter confidence and commitment, thus producing a piece of work that is really perfect in every way. The costumes were equally well placed, with the soldiers in their uniforms of deep blue and the gypsies in red and green corsets and full skirts, dark hair tumbling over bare shoulders. This must have been exactly what Bizet had intended when he wrote the opera.

Leading this wonderful cast as Carmen was Latvian mezzo-soprano Elīna Garanča. I could not have imagined a better singer for this part. Beautiful, with curled dark hair framing a face alive with mischief and a body that moved with seductive passion, she was everything Carmen should be. Not to mention her astounding vocal ability; able to project a dark danger into her voice when necessary, she was also capable of being truly subtle in moments of quiet desperation – of which Carmen does have quite a few. Matching her at every step in passion and physicality was French tenor Roberto Alagna’s Don Jose. Although I initially felt his voice was slightly too whiney, he soon proved me wrong and where he lacked subtlety he more than made up for it with pure, raw emotion. His anger in act four was terrifying and utterly convincing and I was completely caught up in his torment. Appropriately difficult to watch and purely heart-breaking.

Meanwhile, Ildebrando D’Arcangelo’s Escamillo was full of bravado – surely helped by the horse he rode onto the stage – and perfectly self assured. His voice was well projected and incredibly sexy as he seduced Carmen and fought Don Jose for her. Louise Innes’ Mercédès was pure gypsy and her voice was beautifully and appropriately earthy. As usual Eri Nakamura, as Frasquita, was highly impressive and the Japanese soprano continues to wow audiences at the Royal Opera House, as I hope she will continue to do for a long time to come. She is one of two members of the Jette Parker Young Artists Programme to appear in this production, the other being Changham Lim, whose Moralès was wonderfully sung and I only wished that I could have enjoyed it for longer.

Zambello’s direction was beyond reproach in her attention to detail. Every slight movement of each single character on stage seemed to have been carefully thought through and directed by Zambello to create an incredible stage picture. Opening with what must have been around thirty people on stage, the numbers only grew and still, no matter where you looked, it was utterly evocative of a town square in Seville, not one actor or singer letting on for even a moment and I found myself constantly forgetting that I was in the Royal Opera House. The only fault I can find with Zambello’s production was that it seemed slightly over indulgent. At the end of almost every choral piece – of which there are many – the entire cast moved towards the front of the stage and the sound and picture was always stunning and big. Even this is hard to fault, because everyone loves big, exciting stage images and stunning climaxes, and I cannot deny that it was highly satisfying and utterly mesmerizing. But as a fan of the quiet subtleties directors such as David Alden and Nicholas Hytner and, perhaps most notably, Christof Loy produce, I did feel quite overloaded by the end of this production.

Paule Constable’s lighting design was wonderful and really created the heat and passion of sunny Spain. Carmen seemed well placed and with the red walls and all the earthy tones on stage, Constable’s design just seemed to emphasize in all the right places.

The Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, conducted by Bertrand de Billy, was under admirable direction, able to evoke everything that was required of it. Also displaying wonderful passion and heat was the Royal Opera Chorus, directed by Renato Balsadonna. Building up to those wonderful group scenes, the chorus was fiery and enraged when needed and at other times beautifully sweet. If it were not for Zambello’s over indulgent use of her chorus, it would have been a perfect performance for all involved.

Despite my criticisms, this is by far the best Carmen I have ever seen, or heard for that matter, and it is no wonder that it has been revived all around the World. Garanča is set to sing Carmen at the Met and I would encourage anyone on the other side of the Atlantic to try their best for a ticket. A more perfect Carmen is hard to come by. And as for Zambello’s production – it holds too much joy and satisfaction to be passed up by any Opera fan.

Wagner’s ‘Tristan und Isolde’ – Royal Opera – ROH

14 Oct 2009 Leave a Comment

by StellaB in ROH Reviews

Christof Loy certainly seems to have a penchant for making his audience work for their German opera. After his stark production of Lulu in June this year, it is no surprise that his Tristan und Isolde is another black and white event. However, as with Lulu I cannot fault this production for all it’s bleak appearance. Once again he allows his singers the physical space and the breathing space to truly develop their emotions and openly make room for the tragedy.

The main part of the stage, designed by Johannes Leiacker, is a grey room with just one chair to the side. The back wall of the room is a deep red – almost black – curtain which runs in both direction and behind which is a huge white dining room, seemingly unfinished, with one french window and sketches for two more. In the dining room are several tables laid out with candles and often when the curtain is moved away the room can be seen filled with men in tuxedos. This set left very little visual refuge for the audience, particularly when the dining room was hidden, and furthermore the lighting was very dim, thus making everything ever more bleak. However, it was incredibly effective and very refreshing to see a director and a cast of singers who had no bells and whistles to hide behind. You could visually witness the downfall of the two lovers as the singers became more and more exhausted. Usually this might seem like a problem, but with Tristan und Isolde it worked remarkably well.

Nina Stemme’s Isolde was a force to be reckoned with. Vocally astounding and physically able to embody every moment of Isolde’s rollercoaster of emotions, she was truly brilliant. Her voice was subtle when necessary and strong, almost scarily so, in her moments of true desperation. From the first moment of the first act her relationship with Sophie Koch’s Brangäne was utterly believable and incredibly moving. Koch made a wonderful Brangäne, good and utterly devoted to her mistress, she seemed like the kind of girl every mother wishes her daughter could be. Her voice floated beautifully above the dark sadness of Stemme’s Isolde and she was physically perfect for the role. I very much look forward to seeing her in the future. Ben Heppner seemed like a strange choice for Tristan, particularly in this context. Although vocally suited to the role and clearly not lacking in experience with the part, he did have a few problems singing in the second and third acts. But the true problem seemed to be in pairing him with Stemme. I can understand how with a different Isolde he could have been a wonderful Tristan, but I found them unbelievable as a couple. Having said that, his scene in act four with Kurnewal was possibly the best of the entire production. Of course it helped that, as usual, Michael Volle was on top form as Kurnewal. Volle has wonderful richness to his voice and seems to slip into each different role with a surprising lack of difficulty. Moving on the stage with a casual indifference he is then able to jump into the drama with every inch of his being. It is always a joy to hear him sing and it also seems that he is well matched by Christof Loy’s direction, having also sung Dr Schön and Jack the Ripper in Loy’s Lulu, with amazing clarity. John Tomlinson, stepping in for Matti Salminen as King Marke, was unsurprisingly brilliant. With age his voice seems to have matured, rather than having deteriorated and I was constantly reminded what a true treasure of the English operatic tradition he is.

This was my first live Wagner experience and thus I found it very challenging and quite overwhelming. It also means I have very little to compare it with in terms of production, but I think I have enough experience of opera in general to be able to say that this production is truly a joy and there is something quite other-worldly about it. Although Loy makes it very difficult for his audience, he has such a wonderful sense for direction that his productions never become dull and the characters on stage always seem to grow ever more into their emotions. In fact, as I sit here, I am struggling to think of one direction that I didn’t like. My only real disappointment was in the casting and the questionable pairing of Stemme and Heppner.

The orchestra was under wonderful control and direction in the ever brilliant hands of Royal Opera Musical Director Antonio Pappano. Working wonderfully with his singers, he was able to create the quiet subtleties when necessary, but equally able to expand into the true drama. It is always a joy to see him conduct, as he always does it with such commitment and passion.

What seems to have made this production of Tristan und Isolde so particularly moving is the level of commitment everyone involved had to the pure emotion of the piece. Utterly wonderful and deeply moving.