Firebird, in concert at the BBC Proms, Royal Albert Hall, August 2010

This concert by the London Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Valery Gergiev, had a substantial hors d’oeuvre in Scriabin’s Symphony No. 1. That six-movement work, which ends with massive choral forces, was beautifully performed. The soloists, mezzo Nadezhda Serdiuk and tenor Sergei Skorokhodov, both members of the Mariinsky Theatre, sang strongly, and the LSO chorus gave immense power to the finale.

Stravinsky’s Firebird followed after the interval. It’s a work I have seen danced many times on stage, but here it had an unusually dreamy quality in the earlier part, quite different from the overtly dramatic effect one normally gets with ballet performances. It’s interesting to compare it to Vladimir Jurowski’s excellent Firebird with the London Philharmonic at the Proms two years ago, which was more in the style of a stage performance. After the dreamily dreary first half, Gergiev built momentum and there was a wonderfully swinging quality to the later part when the prince gets hold of Kashchey’s heart in the egg, before breaking it and releasing the princess from Kashchey’s magic. Gergiev also produced a very remarkable dynamic range from the orchestra at the end, becoming scarcely audible before building to a huge climax, helped by the dramatic appearance of three extra trumpets on stage left. This was a superb ending that elicited immense applause.

La Forza del Destino, Holland Park Opera, OHP, August 2010

“Vengeance is mine”, saith the Lord, but the quest for revenge by the Calatrava family, personified by its son, Don Carlo, leads to deaths only in the family itself. In his dying throes, Carlo manages to kill his sister Leonora as she comforts him, but the person he most wanted to kill, namely his sister’s beloved Don Alvaro, lives on. Such is Alvaro’s fate, the power of fate being the theme of this opera, whose driving force is Verdi’s music.

The backdrop to Act III, all images OHP/ Fritz Curzon

I’ve always found it terrific stuff, and was delighted with the excellent musical direction by Stuart Stratford, whom I remember doing an equally fine job at Holland Park last summer with Katya Kabanova. Peter Auty was powerfully lyrical as Alvaro, and his soliloquy in Act III, when he pleads with an absent Leonora to pity his suffering, was superb. Mark Stone was a very strong Carlo, and the two of them together in Act III were wonderful. Gweneth-Ann Jeffers as Leonora was remarkable — she modulated her voice seamlessly from quiet passages to loud ones, and gave this role a powerful undertow of emotion. Among the other parts in this opera, Donald Maxwell was delightful as Fra Melitone, amusing, with perfect comic timing and a gloriously strong voice. No wonder I found him so good as the Major-Domo in Fille du Régiment at Covent Garden three months ago. Mikhail Svetlov sang well as Padre Guardiano, as did Carole Wilson as the gypsy Preziosilla, reminding me of her analogous role in Ballo last summer.

Alvaro holds the dying Leonora

The production by Martin Duncan works very well, with wonderful designs by Alison Chitty, whom I recall doing magical work for Birtwistle’s Minotaur at Covent Garden in April 2008. Here she did another piece of magic. Act III had a black cloth backdrop with chairs hanging in front, along with red cords stretching from floor to rafters at various angles. Lampshades hanging from the rafters were lit blue, and the chairs were projected onto the backdrop. Mark Jonathan’s dark lighting on this set produced the effect of a Kandinsky painting, which I thought entirely appropriate to the time in which the opera was set, namely early-mid twentieth century. Altogether this was a superbly designed production using little more than chairs as props — brilliant.

Congratulations to Opera Holland Park, a fitting production for this, the last night of their season.

Danton’s Death, National Theatre, NT Olivier, August 2010

This play by Georg Büchner deals with a two-week period during the terror following the French revolution. The events he describes were but forty years in the past, and Büchner knew many of the speeches by Robespierre and Danton by heart. He was born in 1813, the same year as Wagner, so both these brilliant artists were at a very impressionable age when the 1830 revolution in France brought the ‘citizen king’ Louis-Philippe to power, and both became young revolutionaries. But while Wagner lived to create great operas, Büchner died at 23. This play was written in 1835 when he was just 21.

Robespierre and Danton, photo by Johan Persson

The main characters are Danton, Robespierre and Saint-Just. In an interesting essay in the programme, Ruth Scurr writes that “Büchner presents a brilliant portrait of Robespierre as a cold-blooded hypocritical fanatical prig”. Does he? If so this production didn’t quite show it. Robespierre is a background figure in the second half of the play, and seems to show serious reservations about condemning Danton, while Saint-Just is the prime mover in getting him convicted and guillotined. In this sense I thought Alec Newman gave a strong performance of Saint-Just, while Elliot Levey gave Robespierre a wrather camp feel, as did Chu Omambala with Collot d’Herbois, but that was presumably the intention of director Michael Grandage. It did however create something of a Monty Python feel to the whole thing, except that it wasn’t funny. It was dull and unrelenting, and while Toby Stephens’ extremely emotive portrayal of Danton may have been convincing, it didn’t elicit my sympathy.

Saint-Just in public mode, photo by Johan Persson

Paule Constable’s lighting, and the music and sound by Adam Cork, were wonderful, as were Christopher Oram’s designs showing enormously tall doors and windows that made the revolutionaries look small. Robespierre’s remark that ‘Virtue must rule through terror’ is often repeated, and the play has plenty of youthful energy from its young cast, but feels a bit like a history lesson. It only had its first performance 65 years after its author’s death, and Büchner went on to write deeper things, particularly Woyzeck, which was later used by Alban Berg in his opera of that name. Of course it’s always worthwhile to recall the history of the French terror in the early 1790s, but if one wants to recreate a sense of idealism, and revolutionary energy run amok, Giordano’s opera Andrea Chenier is the thing to see — Covent Garden and the ENO please note.

The four acts of this play are performed without a break — lasting about an hour and three quarters — and near the beginning we hear Robespierre saying (in Howard Brenton’s new version), “Only by your own self-destruction can you fall” (German: Du kannst nur durch deine eigne Kraft fallen). Robespierre fell just a few months later, but at the end of this play it is Danton and his friends who go to the guillotine, and that final scene is a brilliant coup de theatre. Whether it’s worth waiting for, I’m not so sure.

Performances continue until October 14 — for more details click here.

Cinderella, English National Ballet, ENB at the London Coliseum, August 2010

This is a very welcome revival of Michael Corder’s production, with beautiful dancing by Daria Klimentova as Cinderella, very well supported by Vadim Muntagirov as the prince. She showed a charming strength and serenity, and he was a danseur noble with elegant gestures and superb entrechats and pirouettes. They made a wonderful couple.

Muntagirov as the prince, photo by Pedro Lapetra

Michael Corder’s choreography is very different from Ashton’s version for the Royal Ballet. Among a host of differences, two things stand out. One is that the stepsisters are girls, rather than en travesti roles, and Ashton’s cuts are rescinded, so the start of Act III involves the prince being tempted by other women, including Spanish, Egyptian and Oriental princesses. The sisters were brilliantly performed by Adela Ramirez and Sarah McIlroy, who also danced the Spanish and Egyptian princesses in Act III. They showed a pretty bitchiness they obviously got from their mother, who is very much present in this production. She was well portrayed by Jane Haworth, with Michael Coleman as a seriously hen-pecked husband.

An interesting aspect of this production are the vision scenes. When Cinderella is being mercilessly teased and abused by her stepsisters and stepmother in Act I, the fairy godmother, danced by Begoña Cao, appears to her alone — this is different from Ashton’s version where an old crone arrives to beg for food. Then there is a second vision scene in Act III when Cinderella appears to the Prince, but eludes him. These visions are a fine aspect of Michael Corder’s version, as is the transformation at the end when the old house vanishes, though I missed the midnight transformation when her costume turns to rags. Here she simply runs off in her finery, but this does fit with the concept of Cinderella creating her own transformation, embodied in her early conjuring up of a fairy godmother.

Sarah McIlroy, Juan Rodriguez, Adela Ramirez, photo by Annabel Mueller

It’s a huge cast, and the dancing was very good indeed. I particularly liked Juan Rodriguez as the dancing master, who had excellent stage presence, and his gestures were wonderful. Prokofiev’s music was beautifully conducted by music director Gavin Sutherland. He gave it warmth and spontaneity, and I liked Paul Pyant’s lighting design, which allowed us to feel as if we were present at an evening where dreams become reality.

Performances continue until Sunday, August 15, including a celebration of the English National Ballet’s 60th birthday on Saturday the 14th — for more details click here.

Francesca da Rimini, Holland Park Opera, August 2010

When I first heard an excerpt from this opera I was entranced, and wondered why, at that time, there seemed to be no complete recording. The resounding brass in Act II followed by the heroic sound of the lovers Francesca and Paolo was riveting, and I’m delighted Holland Park has given us this opportunity of witnessing the whole thing on stage.

Francesca and Paolo, all images OHP/ Fritz Curzon

The composer, Riccardo Zandonai produced most of his compositions in the early twentieth century, this one in 1914 to a libretto by Tito Ricordi, closely based on the play Francesca da Rimini by Gabriele d’Annunzio. The real Francesca was a contemporary of Dante, and appears in his Inferno. The story is essentially that Francesca is to marry one of the Malatesta brothers, the lame Gianciotto. But she is first introduced to his brother Paolo, the beautiful, whom she believes to be her future husband, and they fall instantly in love. The third brother, Malatestino, the one-eyed, is obsessed with her and jealous of both his other brothers. He eventually realises she and Paolo are in love so he upsets the entire apple cart, leading to their death at the hands of Gianciotto.

Gianciotto and Malatestino

As Paolo, Julian Gavin sang with suitably amorous force, reminding me of his excellent Cavaradossi at the ENO recently. Jeffrey Black gave us a powerfully sung Gianciotto, and Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts, whom I saw here last year as Tichon in Katya, was a convincing Malatestino. Cheryl Barker sang well as Francesca, though her acting was a bit wooden, but more on that when I deal with the direction. Anna Leese also did extremely well as Biancofiore, one of Francesca’s friends. From the pit came wonderful sounds, and the orchestra was conducted with great enthusiasm by Phillip Thomas.

There were two problems. Despite good designs by Jamie Vartan, and excellent lighting by Mark Jonathan, the direction by Martin Lloyd-Evans was weak. There was no coherence to the actions of the chorus, and Francesca seemed to adopt similar attitudes to all three men around her. In Act II she lets out a huge sound after apparently seeing Malatestino wounded, but she, like the chorus, is facing the audience and gives no indication of seeing anything special. The poor acting here must be laid partly at the foot of the director because I saw Cheryl Barker portray a wonderfully ghostly Miss Jessel in the ENO’s Turn of the Screw less than a year ago, and give a fine performance of the main role in The Makropulos Case in 2006. Those are rather odd roles of course, and as a young woman of flesh and blood I would have preferred to see a bit more life.

Paolo dies in her arms

The other problem is this opera itself. Zandonai was a very talented composer, whom Puccini favoured for completing Turandot, though his son Tonio vetoed the choice and it went to Alfano. In this opera there is no release from the tension in the music, so what ought to be wonderful moments are lost in the overall fabric, and there is no clear focus. Add to that a rather weak libretto by Ricordi, and it is understandable why the opera is not heard often. Nevertheless I very much applaud Opera Holland Park for putting it on, and am delighted to have seen it.

Performances continue until August 13 — for further information click here.

Don Quixote, Bolshoi Ballet, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, August 2010

This thrilling spectacle of classical dance was first performed at the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow in 1869, choreographed by Marius Petipa, who had just become artistic director of the Maryinsky Ballet in St. Petersburg. More than twenty years earlier he’d spent three years in Spain and learned to love Spanish dance — much celebrated in this ballet — though he left Spain rather suddenly to avoid a duel against a French marquis, a member of the French embassy, with whose wife he’d been having an affair. Petipa was quite a lad as a young dancer!

Don Q was revised by Alexander Gorsky in 1900, the year he became manager of the Bolshoi, and is a staple of their repertory. In fact it’s arguably their jewel in the crown, endowed with a mass of glorious costumes, and sets that allow ample room for the ballet’s choreographic pyrotechnics, which were on brilliant view here.

Vasiliev and Osipova, photo by M. Logvinov 2006

The main roles were danced by Ivan Vasiliev and Natalia Osipova, who were spectacular three years ago when the Bolshoi came to the London Coliseum. At that time Vasiliev was a mere 18 and Osipova 21, so both are still very young, and this time they were even more sensational. They are stars of the first magnitude. Not only can Vasiliev do corkscrew turns at 45 degrees and land perfectly into a half-kneeling position, he dances absolutely on the music. So does Osipova and her fouettés en tournant were superb, with repeated doubles, and even a triple. These two dancers have the flamboyance and technical wizardry that this ballet requires, and the one-hand overhead lift, with both dancers in arabesque, was quite remarkable, particularly when Vasiliev went up on demi-pointe at the end of it. They have to be seen to be believed, and it’s no surprise that on the way home, carrying a programme, I was greeted by other audience members saying, “Wasn’t that amazing!”

Natalia Osipova as Kitri, photo by Damir Yusopov 2009

Vasiliev and Osipova were out of this world, but they were only part of the story, and the whole company did a superb job. Just to mention a few, I thought Alexei Loparevich was wonderful as Don Q himself, and in the gypsy dance of Act III Anna Antropova was extraordinarily supple and admirably musical. Nina Kaptsova was an excellent Cupid in Act II, and Olga Stebletsova and Victoria Osipova were very good as Kitri’s friends in Act I, as was Anna Balukova as Mercedes. It’s difficult to apportion praise accurately because the cast-list was a little confusing — the main couple in the Act III Spanish dance were presumably two of the three people listed, but which two?  I hope the Bolshoi improve the casting information on their next visit.

The other problem was the music. This is great stuff by Minkus, only overshadowed later when Tchaikovsky came along, but the conducting in Acts I and II was a bit lifeless — I’ve heard excerpts from Act I done far more vivaciously by pianists in ballet class. The cast-list showed Pavel Klinichev as the conductor, but at the end of Act III, which was musically far better, the conductor who took the bows was Pavel Sorokin. When he conducted Don Q three years ago, he filled the music with vibrant energy, so did they switch conductors for Act III? Puzzling. Some people say they come for the dance not the music, but for dancers who are very musical — and Vasiliev and Osipova are certainly in that category — the conductor makes quite a difference.

Finally, dancing and music aside, this is a wonderful production of Don Q, with very effective designs by Sergei Barkhin. The costumes, based on sketches from 1906 by Vasily Dyanchkov, realised by Tatiana Artamonova and Elena Merkurova, are glorious, with fine lighting design by Mikhail Sokolov.

Le Corsaire, Bolshoi Ballet, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, August 2010

This ballet, like Verdi’s opera Il Corsaro, is inspired by Byron’s poem The Corsair, but although the names of the main characters are the same, the plot of the ballet is very different. The poem inspired several choreographers and composers until in 1856, Joseph Mazilier presented it at the Paris Opéra to music by Adolphe Adam. There were later additions by other composers, and in the 1860s, Marius Petipa produced a new version, which towards the end of the century included some excellent music by Riccardo Drigo for an Act III pas-de-deux by two slaves.

The slave pas-de-deux but with other dancers, photo by Elena Fetisova

In 2007 the Bolshoi brought forth this new production with Petipa’s choreography partly recreated by Alexei Ratmansky and Yuri Burlaka, and extra music by Uncle Tom Cobley and all: Tchaikovsky, Delibes, Minkus, among them. Some of this music was part of Petipa’s 1899 version, but most was surely not, and the trouble is that it lacks focus. The whole evening lasted until 10:55, but if you’re inclined to leave before the end, I recommend staying for the very effective final scene of Act III, which shows the pirate ship in a storm. In the midst of a fight on board, the ship breaks up, but Conrad and his lover Medora do not die — this is a happy ending as they make it to shore, looking wonderful.

As for the dancing, some of it was very good, and I liked Vitaly Biktimirov as the rebellious Corsaire, Birbanto. He was absolutely on the music, as was one of the three girls in the pas-de-trois of the odalisques — I think it was Anna Leonova — but being on the music is not one of the Bolshoi’s strong points. The conductor Pavel Klinichev could have helped by keeping up the tempo, but he frequently went at a snail’s pace, particularly in the solos, and Act II was dire in this respect. Lovely costumes and sets, but when I sit at the ballet I want to see dancing, not a series of poses. Excitement was sadly lacking, and the soloists seemed to expect more applause than they received during the performance. Although I liked the sets they did not suit the Covent Garden stage, leaving less than an ideal space for dancing, even with the proscenium arch widened to its full extent. The stage is very deep but the sets seemed designed more for width than depth.

The main roles of Conrad and Medora were danced by Nikolai Tsiskaridze and Maria Alexandrova, with Marianna Ryzhkina as Gulnare, and the slave pas-de-deux was danced by Ivan Vasiliev and Nina Kaptsova, so it should have been terrific, but the slow tempo of Kilinichev’s conducting did not allow it.

After seeing an excellent Spartacus when the Bolshoi opened their London season, this was a let-down, but I look forward to a thrilling Don Quixote, which I have seen this company do before to great effect.

Die Walküre, Longborough Festival Opera, July 2010

What a marvellous place for performing Wagner — this opera house is built very much in the style of Bayreuth, albeit on a smaller scale, and the acoustics are wonderful. It’s a courageous endeavour to put on Walküre, but nothing compared to the eventual aim of staging the full Ring in 2013, and they have already put on Rheingold in 2007 and 2008, with Siegfried to follow next year. The audacity of staging these operas in a large Gloucestershire barn may seem a step too far, but the barn is turning into an opera house of great stature, and the quality of performance speaks for itself.

Siegmund and Sieglinde, photo by Clive Barda

The sixty-three-piece orchestra was conducted by Anthony Negus, who produced glorious, and sometimes inspired, sounds from the Longborough orchestra. I gather Wagner was an early musical passion for Negus, as it was for the opera house’s owner Martin Graham, and this is a labour of love for all concerned. It’s an excellent example of what can be achieved with simple sets and props, and Alan Privett, with designer Kjell Torriset, has produced a clear and convincing setting for the story, with a lattice work of conflicting intentions, a rope of destiny, and three actors in black lurking around to help fate achieve its results. The Valkyries sang gloriously and I loved their sexy costumes, and Wotan’s attire. Jason Howard in that role has excellent stage presence, and his argument with Alison Kettlewell as Fricka was beautifully portrayed. She is relatively young, and it is the first time I have seen a young, but nevertheless assertive, wife for this king of the gods. She sang like a goddess.

The Valkyries, photo by Clive Barda

Wotan and Brünnhilde, photo by Clive Barda

The orchestra at Longborough is partly submerged under the stage, allowing the singers to rise, almost effortlessly, above the orchestra, and Andrew Rees and Lee Bisset as Siegmund and Sieglinde came over very strongly. I was there at the dress rehearsal when Rees had a throat infection, so I forgive the few times his voice cracked, though I would have preferred a quieter start so that he has somewhere to go later. Both these singers came over with immense power, and Ms. Bisset’s first monologue in scene 2 of Act II had a visceral impact. The lighting was superbly dark, and I loved the presentation of the vision scene when Brünnhilde appeared at rear stage left with Siegmund at front stage right. Alwyn Mellor as Brünnhilde sang with convincing authority and her interactions with Jason Howard’s Wotan were beautifully done. He was outstanding, and indeed the whole cast came over with supercharged energy, giving us a Walküre to treasure in anticipation of its reappearance in a full Ring during Wagner’s bi-centenary year.

For more details on this production click here.

The Marriage of Figaro (Le Nozze di Figaro), Opera Australia, Sydney Opera House, July 2010

The revival of this co-production with the Welsh National Opera was very much a team effort, with excellent singing all round. Teddy Tahu Rhodes was particularly good as a strongly voiced yet surprisingly vulnerable Figaro. So often this character comes over as all too knowing, never seriously fearing for the loss of Susanna’s love, but here he showed natural human frailty on this extraordinarily crazy day — indeed an earlier title for this Mozart opera was The Crazy Day. It’s one of his three great collaborations with librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte, who knowing he could not get away with Figaro’s rant against the aristocracy in the original play by Beaumarchais, replaces it with a rant against the perfidy of women. So it’s only natural that Figaro feels himself vulnerable. And with the Susanna of Taryn Fiebig, who sang with a lovely tone and charming air of spontaneity, the main couple was perfect.

The Countess and Count, photo by Branco Gaica

Peter Coleman-Wright as the Count was excellent, both vocally and in his passionate yet superficial desire for Susanna, while still apparently very attracted to the Countess. This was a Count of some complexity, and Rachelle Durkin portrayed a statuesque Countess, singing strongly, though with a little more vibrato than I care for. Half a head taller than Susanna, she managed to decrease her height admirably when they changed clothes in Act IV, and I only wish the designer Dale Ferguson had given her a decent wig, rather than a modern frizz of cultivated wild abandon. This was probably all part of the deliberately anachronistic touches, such as the flash camera, and one or two other things inserted into an eighteenth century environment, but the hair was frightful.

Kanen Breen’s very camp portrayal of Don Basilio was witty, though almost over the top, but that was evidently intentional, and Warwick Fyfe as Dr. Bartolo, with Jacqueline Dark as Marcelina, were rather touching, though his wig made him look absurd. Clifford Plumpton was wonderful as the gardener, entirely believable and not the irascible drunkard he sometimes appears, and Claire Lyon as his daughter Barbarina was gorgeous. The role of Cherubino is always a difficult one — a young woman pretending to be a young man who at one point dresses as a girl — but Sian Pendry’s movements were too girlish, though the costume, which showed her hips all too clearly, didn’t help. And I did think that exhibiting testosterone by banging the ironing board was over the top, though that was presumably the idea of director Neil Armfield, or associate director Roger Press.

The Count begs forgiveness at the end, photo by Branco Gaica

The main thing is that Patrick Summers did a fine job with the orchestra, keeping in touch with the singers while moving things forward at a good pace and bringing out the light and shade in the music.

Performances continue until 23 October, with cast and conductor changes starting in September — for more details click here.

La Fanciulla del West (Girl of the Golden West), Opera Australia, Sydney Opera House, July 2010

A good opera production eschews extraneous effects and irrelevant imagery, allowing the music and singing to convey the story directly to the audience, and this Nigel Jamieson production is a fine example.

The brief prelude shows black and white moving images of the wild west, on a screen at the rear of the stage. Then we find ourselves in a long tavern among men who are almost ghostly in their grey appearance, their make-up reminiscent of the early silent movies. Into this atmosphere of drinking and gambling after a day of gold mining, appears Minnie, the only colourful thing on stage. It’s a wonderful contrast — the warmth of the feisty heroine, joined later by the reformable bandit Dick Johnson, compared to the colourless nature of the sheriff who wants her for himself, along with the miners, all grateful to Minnie for her cheerful strength and companionship.

Johnson, Minnie and the Sheriff in Act II, photo by Branco Gaica

She was beautifully played by German soprano Anke Höppner, who gave a stirring performance in Act II and again at the end, after some edginess earlier, and Carlo Barricelli showed enthusiastic bravado and good top notes as Dick Johnson the bandit. John Wegner sang magnificently, portraying a darkly brooding presence as Jack Rance the sheriff, and the orchestra under the baton of Estonian conductor Arvo Volmer drove Puccini’s score forward with great lyricism. Musically this was a gripping performance, and while the opera is unusual among Puccini’s works in having no memorable arias, the emotion of its musical fabric came over very well.

Minnie in Act III with Johnson in the background, photo by Branco Gaica

This new production is extremely welcome in the opera’s anniversary year, particularly since Australia originally produced it just 18 months after its 1910 première in New York. And though the motif of Johnson’s redemption through Minnie’s love lacks the dramatic impact typical of Puccini — there are no deaths in this Western with its happy ending — Nigel Jamieson’s production is as good as it gets. Not only were the sets, costumes and lighting very effective — particularly the lighting by Phil Lethlean — I liked the visual designs by Scott Otto Anderson, and the allusions to the world of cinema, already widespread by the time Puccini wrote this opera. The black and white of the silent movie screen at the start reappeared in full colour just before the final curtain, saying ‘The End’.

Performances continue until August 6 — for more details click here.