Britten’s ‘Peter Grimes’ – Royal Opera – ROH
29 Jun 2011 1 Comment
in ROH Reviews
Peter Grimes, ROH
As any English opera connoisseur can tell you, Benjamin Britten’s music sets a tone, an atmosphere, that is almost impossible to ignore when creating a production. Thus it is never a surprise when his work is presented against a background of different shades of grey by a cast dressed in black. But the music is so evocative, so certain in it’s attitude that you could never begrudge any opera house a production of this nature; to me there simply seems to be no other way to do it. This is not to say you cannot be creative within those confines, but you would be hard pressed to find a good production of Peter Grimes set in anything but muted and dark shades.
Thus it was no surprise when I walked into the Royal Opera House to see the Turneresque black, white dashed curtain at the front of the stage. And the rest of the set, designed by John Macfarlane, was simply variations on this ever astute theme. Huge, mobile panels changed the space and shape of the stage for each scene, against a daylight-lit backdrop, very evocative of the moody North Sea. Simple and effective. I loved the efficiency of a relatively bare stage, altered by the panels alone. This worked particularly well for the scene in Grimes’ hut where suddenly the stage was a wash of white, stark and unforgiving for the scene with his new apprentice.
Likewise, the lighting, designed by David Finn, was as daylight, showing simply and effectively the time of day and the general atmosphere of each scene. This overcast little town was just as Britten’s music dictates.
Having seen Ben Heppner play a somewhat uneven Tristan last year, I was more than a little dubious about his role as Peter Grimes. He is no great actor, and in my head, Grimes is not Heppner. However, for the most part, he proved me wrong. This is clearly a role he knows very well, and one he plays with complete self-certainty. Unfortunately his acting does leave something to be desired; just a little too mild, a little too slow to react, a little too overdramatic. But on the whole he’s not an inappropriate Grimes. His voice is very controlled, and almost contained which works well for the troubled fisherman, and his tense madness in the penultimate scene was palpable. Heppner is a perfect example of a singer who can act, but he is not a singer-actor. The acting is very clearly second to his voice, which is how it should be in opera, but then again, I have seen much better acting from singers on the Royal Opera House stage. Heppner’s portrayal was of a man utterly driven and without kindness, and thus it was hard to sympathise with him for the majority of the performance. I worried, as the story progressed and I liked him less and less, that when it came to his final downfall, I wouldn’t care enough for the ending to be powerful. But somehow, and I’m not sure why, by Grimes’ final appearance, I was sobbing. Inexplicably heartbreaking.
The star of the show was, undoubtedly, Amanda Roocroft’s Ellen Orford. Having seen her play this role before, a couple of years ago with English National Opera, I was astonished by how much better she is today. She has grown into the role, and her voice is fantastic. Rich, foreboding, trusting, innately good, she was Ellen, just as she should be. My sole criticism would be just a little too much vibrato in places, but this is a truly small issue in such a wonderful portrayal. For me, the highlight of her performance was in Act I, persuading the townspeople that she would go and fetch Grimes’ new apprentice, singing “Let her among you who is without blame, cast the first stone”. A truly perfect Ellen. Kind, caring, good, tragic. Particularly powerful were her actions in the final moments of the opera, when, raising her church music before her face, she joined the rest of the town in their poisoned silence.
As Balstrode, Jonathan Summers was powerful – in voice and action – and intriguing in his attentions towards Grimes. Almost friendly, he was a very interesting force within the seaside community. An enjoyable and skilled performance to watch. Unfortunately, Catherine Wyn-Roger’s Auntie, whilst careful in her portrayal, was predictable and largely unimaginative. She didn’t bring enough gusto to the part, and nothing in her raised new ideas about the character. Likewise, Roderick Williams’ Ned Keene seemed to promise a lot, and deliver very little. He was just as Ned Keene should be, but nothing more. There was nothing interesting about this portrayal and, unfortunately, aside from his astute singing of “Old Joe has gone fishing”, not much about his voice that could be named remarkable. Much to my disappointment, Rebecca Bottone who was cast to sing the First Niece, was indisposed and instead, alongside Anna Devin as the Second Niece, Katy Batho covered the role. The nieces were welcome relief from the unrelenting austerity of the rest of the town; as actresses they were both fun and astute, teasing the men, and befriending the women. However, once again, their voices were largely unremarkable and I was left wondering if the absence of Bottone – whom I know to have an extraordinarily beautiful voice – may have taken more than it’s fair toll on the duo.
Special notice, however, must be taken of two from this uneven cast; Stephen Richardson’s Hobson was perfection. His voice deep and rich, his resolve to not do Grimes’ dirty work based on palpable uncertainty and fear. This was a strong man, conflicted over his work, his duty, and the stigma of helping Grimes. Hobson has never before been a character who stood out much to me, but in this production he was truly wonderful. The other performance which impressed me greatly was Jane Henschel’s Mrs Sedley. The gossiping old lady, desperate for her laudanum, and to keep her name, was perfectly executed; fussy, easily flustered, ever eager to look over her neighbour’s fences, and the unknowing leader of the town’s underhanded ways. Her voice was also astute and just right for this un-grandmotherly old woman.
Of course, you cannot have a good Peter Grimes without a good chorus, and as far as I’m concerned, choruses don’t get much better than at the Royal Opera House, under the direction of the ever brilliant Renato Balsadonna. Having said that, however, I felt – and I hate to say this – that the chorus at English National Opera in 2009 were better. They had more force; they made me scared and worried for Grimes, whilst at the ROH I was just concerned. It’s hard to know whether this was caused by staging or vocal strength, but either way, the chorus in Britten’s opera can and should be just marginally better than they were.
Similarly, I was surprised that the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House didn’t quite reach their usual heights. I’ve always felt that the four sea interludes are a good measure of whether an orchestra is really made for Britten, and whilst it was certainly wonderful, again, I’ve heard better. This was surprising considering how consistently brilliant this orchestra is. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of Britten – which is performed far too rarely at the ROH, – perhaps it was conductor Andrew Davies – which would also surprise me given how wonderful he is in general, – but something wasn’t working quite as well as it usually does in the orchestra pit. Having said that I still cried with the beauty and overwhelming brilliance of the music, but I am inclined to attribute that to Britten’s incredible compositional skills rather than the orchestra.
Although I do not like to compare productions too closely, there are two points which I need to present here. David Alden’s Peter Grimes at ENO had two particular moments in it which I dare say have ruined me for any lesser productions I will ever see for the rest of my life. The first is the moment that John, Grimes’ second apprentice, dies. In this production at the ROH, originally directed by Willy Decker, John descends the ladder and disappears, and it is the sudden falling of the ladder, joined with the boy’s scream, that marks his death. Although powerful, Alden did it better. At ENO, John stretched up one hand, reaching for Grimes, climbing down a rope, and it was the slipping of the rope, and the sudden, silent disappearance of his hand that showed his demise. It was so simple, so shocking, so perfect a moment. The tragedy of that is inexplicably poignant, and still so clear in my mind. The second comparison I wish to make is the penultimate scene, which shows Grimes, alone, half-mad with grief, on the beach. The two productions dealt with this very similarly, giving Grimes a bare, stark, darkened stage on which to move and go mad. The difference was, in Alden’s production, the surtitles were turned off along with the lights in the orchestra pit and we, the audience, were left with an utterly unforgiving look at Grimes. No visual relief, just the pure sadness of this lone, outcast, on a beach, mere hours before a death we know is inevitable. These two moments will be forever branded on my memory.
Despite my criticisms, I still cried from the power and beauty of this opera for the vast majority of it’s running time. It was hot and uncomfortable and I was tired and still I wouldn’t have left for anything. Furthermore I don’t think it would be inaccurate to say that my criticisms tell more about the brilliance of Alden than they do the shortcomings of Decker. This production is still wonderful, and well worth seeing. Particularly – I should imagine – on a night when Rebecca Bottone is back to fill the First Niece’s flirtatious shoes.
Verdi’s ‘Macbeth’ – Royal Opera – HMV Curzon, Wimbledon from ROH
14 Jun 2011 Leave a Comment
in ROH Reviews
Macbeth, ROH
When I write these reviews – yes, I still remember, even after a nine month break – I try for the most part to remain neutral on the topic of the actual music as written by the composer… but, when it comes to Verdi’s take on Macbeth I cannot help but think ‘why Verdi?’. Why not R. Strauss, or Wagner, or Britten, or even Bartók? And, since they are somewhat unavailable nowadays, what I would give to have Harrison Birtwistle write a new version for the repertoire. The music, in so many places, is ridiculously inappropriate to the story. The flourishes and grandeur of Verdi are simply out of place in Shakespeare’s dark, broody tale of greed and revenge.
So why did I go and see it? I know Verdi, I know what his work is like. In fact one of the only things I know more about than I of Verdi, is Shakespeare. The reason I went to see Macbeth was a desire to consume as many versions and interpretations of the story before I launch into the production I am directing this Summer (of the play, not the opera).
I also grossly underestimated how bad the libretto is. Bereft of almost every important moment, the text for this opera is nothing more than a husk of the story it was written to be.
However, putting all that aside, there are the characters and enough of a story line present in the opera to build a good production. Unfortunately, Phyllida Lloyd’s interpretation is utterly unimaginative and, for the most part, painfully clumsy. It is a perfect example of how not to do Macbeth. Unnecessarily over the top, not only did the overall look of this production jar with the music (which jars with the words, which jar with the story) but the ornate flourishes added to the set, no doubt to enhance the flourishes that are so out of place in the music, – a small golden box-cage for Lady Macbeth to look through, seven golden horsemen on stilts, and the Kink and Queen’s cheaply rattling costumes – were done so with a complete lack of artistry.
Having said that, there were a handful of redeeming moments. The witches were very powerful, dressed in black with red turbans, sporting staffs. Although I have a problem with the chorus of witches – because of the original symbolism of three – the visual of them onstage was quite effective and the lighting in particular, designed to bring out their strange features and their earthy atmosphere, made the weirdness of the Weïrd Sisters (as presented in Shakespeare’s script) more poignant. Equally, there were a few arias from Macbeth, performed under startlingly appropriate white light. But the other moment I thought worked well was right at the end when Macbeth’s body was strung up against the back of a huge box-cage – a prominent feature in the fragmented set – and witches appeared in the final moments of the opera to climb up the outside of the cage and, effectively, surround him. This was a strong visual and definitely a high point to end on.
Unfortunately those rare moments of effective theatre are far from my mind when it comes to considering the cast of this shambolic production. Voices, on the whole, were strong and of the quality you would expect from such a prestigious opera house, but character portrayal left much to be desired.
It should be noted, at this point, that I saw this production streamed live to a cinema screen, rather than from a velvet seat in the Royal Opera House. Thus comments on voices and sound have to be accepted on the basis that I was listening to it through speakers, rather than experiencing the live sound. However even with that hindrance, a certain amount can be appreciated and critiqued quite effectively; it just makes judgements on projection and the balance of sound a little difficult.
As Macbeth, British baritone Simon Keenlyside is aesthetic and vocal perfection. Handsome and a little weather-worn, he looks just the way a soldier ought to look, and his rich voice filled and made good use of the demanding role. Unfortunately his acting was what I can only describe as tepid. He conveyed very little emotion and, as the performance progressed, made it increasingly difficult to care about the character. By Act III I was begging Macduff to kill him quick and deliver us all from this mild portrayal.
Conversely, Liudmyla Monastyrska’s Lady Macbeth was cartoonishly overplayed to the point of being comedic. It was completely hysterical to watch her dramatically lie back on her bed, one hand raised to her forehead, nostrils flaring, eyebrows overacting. And when she wasn’t using all of her energy to overdo her dramatic facial acting, she was robotic, stoic, apparently doing just what she had been told and nothing more. I will, however, admit that vocally she is an absolutely perfect Lady Macbeth. Powerful, commanding, skillful. If I liked the opera I would be searching for a recording featuring this beautiful voiced Ukrainian soprano.
As Macduff, Dimitri Pittas was stiff and unrelentingly intense; his portrayal had little or no texture and his singing, whilst technically sound, was nothing to write home about. Likewise Raymond Aceto’s Banquo was all intensity, no feeling, although there is rather more to be said for his voice, which was deep, strong and beautifully resonant.
I was also sad to be reminded how inconsequential a part Malcolm was in Verdi’s piece, especially given that he was being sung by wonderful Jette Parker Young Artist Steven Ebel. Having seen Ebel perform before I know he is capable of far more than either the part or the production offered him. Again, though, his voice – what little I heard of it – was beautiful.
From what I could gauge through the speakers at the HMV Curzon, Wimbledon, the orchestra of the Royal Opera House were on top form, which, given that they were under the baton of ROH Music Director Antonio Pappano, is no surprise. Skillful in most genres and aspects of opera, the Italian school is truly his forte.
Likewise the Chorus of the Royal Opera House, under Renato Balsadonna, were on fine form as usual and, as I’ve said, I did particularly like them as the witches.
Despite it’s better aspects, this truly is a production that did very little to enrich my artistic life. I left amused by the farcical moments, annoyed by how long Macbeth took to die, and absolutely certain about how I’m not going to direct Macbeth in August. Meanwhile I’ll be working on a new libretto and waiting for Harrison’s phone call.
