Nutcracker, Birmingham Royal Ballet, BRB at the O2, December 2011

Ballet under the big top of the O2 — can it work, or is the audience too far away to see the dancers clearly? Sitting behind the raked tiers of seats, the view was clear if distant, but a closer view was shown on a big screen above the stage. This was very cleverly done, and for example in the Act II dance of the Mirlitons where Clara dances with the four of them, on the screen you see just her and two Mirlitions, providing close-ups and the full effect at the same time. Peter Wright helped revamp his own production for the huge space of the O2, and it works very well.

All photos by Bill Cooper

The dancing was super, and apart from the Rose Fairy in Act II being blithely off the music, most of it was first rate. This was the final performance on December 30^th, and Angela Paul was a memorable Clara — she has the looks and the charm, and those close-up screenings gave her a magical presence. The real magician of course is Drosselmeyer with his flowing cape, a role Robert Parker portrayed with great panache, assisted by the acrobatic Tzu-Chao Chou. And talking of acrobatics, Joseph Caley was a remarkable Jack-in-the-Box in his hugely baggy trousers.

King Rat

After the guests have left the party in Act I and midnight has struck, the Christmas tree grows to such a vast size that we see only the bottom branches with huge candles, creating the impression that Clara has become as small as the nutcracker doll and the mice. It’s an Alice in Wonderland-like illusion, and then as we enter the wonderland realm of Act II those set piece character dances were beautifully performed, with Clara occasionally joining in. In his original story, E.T.A. Hoffmann mixes the real and magical worlds very cleverly, and having the real Clara in her nightdress join in with some of these fantastic characters from Spain, Arabia, China, and Russia, along with Mirlitons from the Land of Sweets, and flowers too, is a nice touch. The Spanish dance was brilliantly performed, with Maureya Lebowitz as the girl, and the final pas-de-deux with Iain Mackay as the Nutcracker Prince and Jenna Roberts as the Sugar Plum Fairy was excellent. His coupé-jetés were brilliantly executed and their partnership was flawlessly musical.

Waltz of the Flowers

Tchaikovsky’s music was well conducted by Koen Kessels, and though I miss the acoustics of the theatre, this is a super opportunity for the Birmingham Royal Ballet to show their talents to a wide audience. It’s not my choice of venue, but the more people who go to see serious ballet the better!

Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, December 2011

This was Antonio Pappano’s first Meistersinger for the Royal Opera, and from the start of the overture to the final chords of Act III, more than five hours later, his peerless conducting drove Wagner’s comedy forward with huge effect. The chorus too was excellent, from the first four-part harmony in the church to their final embrace of Sachs and Walther on the meadows by the river Pegnitz.

Wolfgang Koch as Sachs, Emma Bell as Eva, Simon O'Neill as Walther, all images Clive Barda

Among the principal singers, some could hardly have been better. John Tomlinson was the best Pogner I ever remember seeing. This man, who is happy to give up his daughter as bride to the winner of a song contest, can sometimes appear a bit pompous, but Tomlinson’s delivery of Pogner’s Act I monologue was hugely powerful. This is where he extols the art-loving German burgher, frequently misrepresented abroad as caring for nought but money. It’s a key moment and so often comes over too weakly. Tomlinson’s characterisation of the role was so strong that the revival director even had him pushing Sachs around towards the end of Act III, urging him to embrace Eva and Walther. Add to that the excellent portrayal of Kothner, the head of the guild, by the ever reliable Donald Maxwell, and you only wish everyone on stage fitted their roles this well.

Toby Spence as David with the apprentices

Some did, and Toby Spence was an enormously likeable David, whose Act I explanation to Walther of what makes a mastersinger, along with the extraordinary list of tones he delivers, was riveting. Here is surely a future Walther. His fiancée Magdalena was very well portrayed by Heather Shipp, who seems to make a speciality of these awkward supporting roles, and Eva was well sung by Emma Bell, who showed angst and joy in equal measure. Her adored Walther, with whom she is willing to elope and defy her beloved father, was Simon O’Neill, whose voice I found too heldentenorish for the role, though he certainly delivered Walther’s various songs with great power. I only wish the costume department could have provided him with a better white outfit for Act III — cloaked for his delivery of the prize song it was better, but those shoulder wings … I know it’s Christmas, but this is not pantomime. Beckmesser’s black costume was much better, and his role was finely sung by Peter Coleman-Wright, though several comic moments were noticeable by their absence, perhaps due to a lack of stage direction. However the fight scene after he has attempted to serenade Eva at her window is cleverly staged, as is the appearance of the Nightwatchman, strongly sung by Robert Lloyd.

Emma Bell as Eva with John Tomlinson as her father Pogner

And then there is the main character, Hans Sachs, sung by Wolfgang Koch, who has performed the same role in Frankfurt (2006) and Vienna (2008). In Act I he came over less strongly than either Pogner or Kothner, and I found the Flieder monologue of Act II disappointing. Of course it’s a huge role and he must reserve himself for Act III, where his response to the crowd in the final scene and his final speech, Verachtet mir die Meister nicht (Don’t despise the masters) to Walther and the assembled company, came over well. But earlier in Act III, the Wahn monologue in the first scene and the later response to Walther’s question on what makes the difference between a beautiful song and a master song, were delivered in a matter-of-fact way as if they were academic lectures. With the Wahn monologue I felt I was listening to a defence of the Euro by a male version of Angela Merkel. Koch has a lovely tone to his voice, but I missed the repressed emotion of these important soliloquys, and the unrestrained emotion when he threw a chair across the room, just before Eva sings O Sachs! Mein Freund! was by contrast quite over top, though that would be due to revival director Elaine Kidd.

This production by Graham Vick is immensely colourful and I loved the lighting design by Wolfgang Göbbel. The blue light shining on the front curtain for the prelude to Act III, the light coming into Sachs’s study through the windows, casting shadows as people moved in front of them — it was all very carefully thought out. With a raked stage in Act III the view from the Amphitheatre was as if one were looking down on the proceedings, which was good, but I would have preferred some images of the river and meadow, rather than plain sides and a wooden floor.

But this was a musical triumph brought to fruition by Pappano, the orchestra, the chorus, and some superb singing.

The New Year’s Day performance of this opera will be broadcast live on BBC Radio 3 from 14:45, and performances at the Royal Opera House continue until January 8 — for details click here.

Sleeping Beauty with Cuthbertson and Polunin, Royal Ballet, Covent Garden, December 2011

All images by Johan Persson

This performance, broadcast by live cinema relay, had a super cast along with plenty of musical excitement from the conductor and the orchestra, right from the very beginning of the Prologue. As we start, at the christening of the baby princess, those wonderful fairy variations were danced by Yuhui Choe, Beatriz Stix-Brunell, Fumi Kaneko, Iohna Loots, and Emma Maguire. Yuhui Choe in particular was wonderfully soft and musical in the first variation, and Emma Maguire was superbly musical in the fifth (pointy) variation. Claire Calvert was the Lilac fairy, and Kristen McNally a defiantly dramatic Carabosse. She was super.

Cuthbertson as Aurora in Act III

In Act I Lauren Cuthberston was delightful as the young Princess Aurora, and Nehemiah Kish showed strong stage presence as the English Prince who plays the main supporting role among the four suitors. The Rose Adagio that she performs with them came over entirely naturally, and Cuthbertson danced beautifully in her solo just before Carabosse enters to give her a spindle and ruin the party. Lovely acting from Cuthberston as she collapses and the English Prince catches her.

Polunin as the prince in Act II

 

In Act II, Sergei Polunin as the Prince demonstrated real excitement at the moment the Lilac fairy showed him the vision of Aurora, and the musical accompaniment for the journey to the sleeping forest came through with great charm. When the prince awakened the sleeping princess the music rang forth with huge power — congratulations to Boris Gruzin in the orchestra pit. Then as we swept forward into Act III, with barely a break for the curtain to close, the wedding party moved into full swing with Florestan and his sisters dancing to Tchaikovsky’s gold, silver, sapphire and diamond variations. Emma Maguire and Melissa Hamilton danced peerlessly in this pas-de-trois, supported by Dawid Trzensimiech who seemed to be on a different beat to the ladies, though his technique was excellent. As Princess Florine and the Bluebird, Yuhui Choe and Alexander Campbell were wonderful, their partnering outstanding, and their solos superb, but where was the applause? The audience was remarkably subdued throughout the evening, though they finally woke up for the grand pas-de-deux with Polunin and Cuthbertson, who were excellent.

Comparing this performance with the one I saw on October 31, the music was better this time by orders of magnitude. Since it was the same conductor, Boris Gruzin, the only explanation can be rehearsals. This is the big problem with the ballet at Covent Garden — rehearsal time. But what a pleasure to be at such a fine performance, and those costumes, recently updated and recreated are glorious.

This is a Sleeping Beauty to be proud of, and performances in the present run continue until December 21 — for details click here.

Cinderella, Richmond Theatre, London, December 2011

Could Prince Andrew’s daughters, Beatrice and Eugenie have thought that their appearance at the Royal Wedding in those eye-catchingly frightful hats would place them in the pantomime roles of Ugly Sisters? Surely not. That would be taking publicity-seeking too far.

Buttons and Cinders, all photos Simon Annand

Yet I imagine the Richmond Cinderella is not the only one to use their names, as well as producing copies of the hats. The audience were so responsive — they loved it, even if the little ones couldn’t get all the jokes. Running through a check-list: cleaners, check; no, Polish. And the decapitated coffee: you know, with no head on it.

Off to the ball

There was something for everyone, and for those who like a bit of charm, tiny white ponies came on stage to take Kellie Shirley’s Cinderella to the ball. If you like panache and loud colours, the costumes for Graham Hoadly and Paul Burnham as amusingly outrageous step-sisters Beatrice and Eugenie were magnificent — no expense spared.

Cinders, Dandini and the shoe

Robert Aldous was excellent as a genial Baron Hardup, and well-known stand-up comic Jenny Eclair was a dramatically glamorous Fairy Godmother. But it was Gary Wilmot as Buttons who really won my heart. He was warm, fun, great with the kids who came on stage, and his comic timing was perfect.

This is a super Cinderella for the family, and performances continue until January 15 — for details click here.

Nutcracker, English National Ballet, ENB, London Coliseum, December 2011

The original story by E.T.A. Hoffmann  interweaves the real and magical worlds, with Drosselmeyer’s toy Nutcracker based on his own nephew. Wayne Eagling’s production, based on a joint idea with Toer van Schayk, combines the two worlds in various clever ways and the nephew, who appears in the party scene of Act I, later interchanges with the Nutcracker several times.

Photos by Annabel Moeller

At the end of Act I, Clara, Drosselmeyer and the Nutcracker escape in a balloon, with the Mouse King clinging on below and quietly disengaging himself at the start of the second Act. Later he and the Nutcracker fight again, and this time it’s the Nutcracker who delivers the fatal thrust of his sword. Clara’s brother Freddie reappears in Act II as a prisoner in the Arabian dance, and she and Drosselmeyer come on to help him escape. Then right at the very end of the ballet when the guests leave the house, the balloon reappears just for a moment, hovering in the background.

Despite these clever inventions this is a traditional production and it works very well indeed. I loved the choreography for Clara and the Nutcracker in the late Act I snow scene, and the main ‘Sugar Plum Fairy’ pas-de-deux was beautifully danced by Crystal Costa as Clara, and Jonah Acosta as the Nephew, both making their debuts in these roles. She was beautifully musical, showing superb control in her solos, and he danced strongly, exhibiting fine coupé jetés around the stage.

The Spanish dance was performed with great musicality and fluidity by Anjuli Hudson, Laurretta Summerscales and Anton Lukovkin, the Arabian dance was well performed by James Streeter and ladies, along with Barry Drummond looking suitably naïve as the prisoner, and the other character dances all went well. Eagling has changed the choreography for the Mirlitons, eliminating the three boys who chase the butterfly, but keeping the butterfly, delightfully danced by Adela Ramírez, along with Drosselmeyer. One critic wondered why there were two names in the programme for Mirlitons, but of course the other is Drosselmeyer, danced here by Daniel Jones, making his debut in the role. The lead flowers were Chantel Roulston and Jenna Lee, partnered by Fabian Reimair and by Junor Souza, who also performed very well as the Mouse King, with James Forbat as a fine Nutcracker.

The whole performance came over with a sense of magic, and David Richardson’s lighting gives a sudden mysteriously warm glow after the main Act II pas-de-deux, just before everyone comes on for the final waltz. Peter Farmer’s sets work beautifully, and the conducting by Gavin Sutherland was excellent. The London Coliseum is a great auditorium for dance, so if you want a Nutcracker with fine choreography, dancing and musical excitement, do not hesitate.

Performances at the London Coliseum continue until December 30 — for details click here.

Faust, Metropolitan Opera live relay, December 2011

The huge power of this performance was the work of the devil.

René Pape as Faust, all images Met Opera Ken Howard

And as Mephistopheles, René Pape was not just vocally superb, but had a stage presence oozing power and devilment. An immensely smooth operator of huge gravitas who could nevertheless move across the stage while lifting a leg as if in a grand jeté, in this well choreographed production by Des McAnuff, which even included some pirouettes in Act II as the chorus sings Et Satan conduit le bal!

After the interval, as Act III starts, Siébel’s soliloquy was beautifully sung by Michèle Losier, both she and Pape repeating their wonderful performances from a different production of Faust this past September in London at the Royal Opera House. Here at the Met they were joined by the incomparable Jonas Kaufmann as Faust, his high notes and diminuendos superbly sung, and his Quel trouble inconnu … in early Act III strongly emotional.

Marguerite and Faust

In Act IV Marina Poplavskaya finally came into her own as Marguerite. In the first interval when interviewed by Joyce Di Donato — an excellent host — she gave the impression that she too had suffered loss. Perhaps this is why she came over so emotionally in Acts IV and V, though I found her less convincing as a simple young girl fascinated by the jewels appearing in Act III. Her singing was beautiful but it was in the later part of the opera that she really convinced me, and her performance was riveting.

Marguerite with the dying Valentin as Siébel looks on

As Act IV came to its conclusion, Russell Braun came through with great effect as Valentin, fighting and losing against Faust, and cursing his sister Marguerite. He sang so strongly, while looking so seriously wounded, you wondered how he did it. Moving into Act V as the chorus sings S’allume et passé un feu qui luit! we see an atomic explosion projected on the backdrop, all part of the production idea that Faust works in a mid-twentieth century laboratory where the nuclear bomb was being designed.

It’s the same production I saw at the English National Opera in September 2010, but with a few tweaks. Care had been given to details and I liked the way a young woman ran across the stage at the start of the big scene in Act III, somehow managing to move in time to the music. Then as the male chorus roared into action it felt as if we were suddenly in a powerful French rendering of the Marseillaise.

Conducting by Yannick Nézet-Séguin was terrific. He brought out the drama in music that can sometimes sound too beautiful and melodramatic, and with an all-star cast this was a glorious performance.

Filming by Barbara Willis Sweete, by the way, was excellent, incorporating occasional full views of the stage with the right amount of detail of the singers.

Performances at the Met continue until January 19 — for details click here.

Rodelinda, Metropolitan Opera live relay, December 2011

The Met first produced this Handel opera in the same production in 2004 with Renée Fleming in the title role. In this live cinema screening she took on the role again and gave a wonderful performance, showing the anguish of the queen who has apparently lost her husband Bertarido in battle, and is now wooed by Grimoaldo, the man who has taken over as ruler. Joseph Kaiser gave an excellent performance as this usurper, who is loved by Bertarido’s sister Eduige, but falls in love with Rodelinda.

Rodelinda with her son, all images Ken Howard

The emotions are complex: desire, scheming, suffering and constant love, but everyone ends up happily ever after, except the nasty Garibaldo, confidante of Grimoaldo who is scheming to acquire the kingdom for himself. Shenyang sang strongly as this unpleasant character, showing him to be a cunning, emotionless power-seeker who over-reaches himself and is killed by Bertarido just as he is about to murder Grimoaldo.

Rodelinda with Berterido

Iestyn Davies as Unulfo

Joseph Kaiser, who sang gloriously as Grimoaldo, amply demonstrated the insecurities of this would-be king, particularly in the face of Renée Fleming’s evident strength as Rodelinda, offering her own son as sacrifice, knowing full well that such a proposal will place the usurper in an impossible position. With Stephanie Blythe singing a very powerful Eduige, the two ladies in the cast had enough strength to carry the entire opera, but they were brilliantly backed up by the other performers. Apart from the tenor and bass parts (Grimoaldo and Garibaldo), there were originally two roles for alto castratos, sung here by Andreas Scholl as Bertarido, and Iestyn Davies as his confidante Unulfo. The latter moves seamlessly between the new court and his exiled master, who anxiously awaits an opportunity to regain power and be reunited with Rodelinda and their son. Iestyn Davies gave an incredible performance as Unulfo, singing as if this were his natural voice, and making the very capable Andreas Scholl sound an unnatural falsetto by comparison.

Grimoaldo with Eduige, Rodelinda and Berterido at rear

The conducting by Harry Bicket was a joy to hear. He gave a wonderful buzz to the overture, and continued to produce a fine clarity of sound, making the musicians of the Metropolitan opera sound like a baroque orchestra. It was he who conducted this opera when Stephen Wadsworth’s excellent production was new in 2004, the beautiful sets and costumes updating this story of a 7^th century Lombard king to Handel’s time of the early eighteenth century.

Tosca, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, November 2011

Catherine Malfitano’s production of Tosca opens with a bang, not just from the excellent conducting of Stephen Lord, but the sudden appearance of the escaped prisoner Angelotti, centre stage at the rear of the church. He turns and flies forward, a dramatic move that sets the scene for this most theatrical of operas.

All images by Mike Hoban

Cavaradossi’s entrance is low key — he is after all just a painter coming to work on a mural — but when Gwyn Hughes Jones bursts into his first aria on the beauty of women, his impassioned lyricism catapulted this performance immediately into the top division. The duet with Matthew Hargreaves as Angelotti was brilliantly delivered, showing us the political facet of Cavaradossi’s personality.

Cavaradossi and Sacristan

Scarpia’s entrance with his henchmen, and security guards in black top hats, is a fine piece of staging helped by the excellent lighting design of David Martin Jacques. As Scarpia himself, Anthony Michaels-Moore reprised the role he sang in the first run of this production in May 2010. This attractive but deadly man evinces real desire for Tosca, combined with cool-headed cunning. The evil depth that one sometimes sees is not emphasised, but then this drama is far bigger than the characters, and I find the representation by Michaels-Moore to be spot on.

The sacristan can often appear a mere bumbling idiot, but Henry Waddington gave him some depth as a churchman who thoroughly dislikes the secular nature of the French under Napoleon, happy to think that the forces of ‘freedom’ have been defeated and more than ready to help Scarpia find the rebel Angelotti. This production gives us the political dimension of Verdi’s opera, and the forces of tradition are well exhibited by the appearance of the cardinal in his vast red cloak towards the end of Act I.

Scarpia in sybaritic mood

As Acts II and III proceeded to draw the drama to its tragic conclusion, Claire Rutter came into her own as Tosca, after a disappointing performance in Act I. This is where Tosca sets the sequence of events off on a disastrous track by her own cupidity and misplaced jealousy, yet the charm of this great singing actress was most notable by its absence, though her reactions during the torture scene in Act II, and her singing of vissi d’arte, made up for it. The torture scene off-stage is entirely realistic, and it takes four of Scarpia’s men to carry in the ample body of Cavaradossi after he has collapsed. Gwyn Hughes Jones’ fine singing of Vittoria re-ignites his political aspect, and the realism of his execution in Act III was something to behold, with flashes of gunpowder from the muskets.

Tosca just before her fatal fall

The conversation between Cavaradossi and the Carceriere at the start of the third act was beautifully done, showing there is still some decency in the Castel Sant’Angelo, and I liked the horseplay between the guards before the final scene. After Cavaradossi lies dead, Tosca throws herself backwards over the parapet, and the curtain closes on a terrific production.

If you saw this in its first run in 2010, go again to hear a world-class performance by Gwyn Hughes Jones as Cavaradossi, with the orchestra superbly directed by Stephen Lord.

Performances continue until January 29 next year, so don’t miss it — for details click here.

Ruddigore, Opera North, Barbican, November 2011

W. S. Gilbert, the librettist for this work, was a master of wit, not just on paper but spontaneously in conversation. When a neighbour referred admiringly to Ruddigore calling it Bloodygore, Gilbert objected, so the neighbour said: “Same thing isn’t it?” WSG was swift as a rapier, “If I admire your ruddy countenance, it doesn’t mean I like your bloody cheek, which I don’t”.

All images Robert Workman

There’s no blood in Ruddigore, but there is a ghostly episode after our hero, Robin has reluctantly accepted his real name of Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd, whose position as the Lord of Ruddigore gives him the accursed obligation of committing a crime a day. Failure to do so condemns him to death. His attempted crimes are rather inadequate, and in Act II ancestral paintings come to life to accuse him of failure. This pantomime-like episode was very well done, with excellent sets and lighting by Richard Hudson and Anna Watson. All seems lost, but the trick in the plot is that the honest Robin suddenly realises that failure to commit a crime is suicide, which itself is a crime …

Robin and Rose, just before the intervention

Robin was delightfully sung and portrayed by Grant Doyle, a versatile performer whom I last saw as a bearded Abraham in Clemency, a serious Biblical opera by James MacMillan. His beloved Rose Maybud was beautifully sung by Amy Freston whose body movements were those of a ballerina. She even did a small jeté en tournant at the end, and the sheer joy of her performance was a charm in itself. Robin’s foster-brother, Dick Dauntless was engagingly performed by Hal Cazalet, and the rest of the cast formed an excellent team around these three principals, including Heather Shipp as the Mad Margaret, Steven Page as the ancestral Sir Roderic, Richard Burkhard as the sly Sir Despard, and Anne-Marie Owens as Dame Hannah, all well directed by Jo Davies.

The ghosts of Ruddigore

Sullivan’s music was played with wit and enthusiasm under the direction of John Wilson, and it was a pleasure to see a performance of this lesser-known operetta from the Gilbert and Sullivan stable.

Performances at the Barbican continue until November 26 — for details click here.

Queen of Spades, Opera North, Barbican, November 2011

Three, Seven, Ace — that’s the secret the old Countess tells Herman in her brief return from beyond the grave. She did it beautifully, Josephine Barstow singing this role in an utterly compelling way. A perfect Countess, well backed up by Jonathan Summers as Tomsky, who gave a gripping Act I account of the Countess’s young life in Paris, and William Dazeley as a noble Prince Yeletsky.

The Card Game in Act III, all images Bill Cooper

The staging by Neil Bartlett was simple but effective, and I liked the small lights around the edge of the stage, giving a nice late eighteenth century touch. This is after all set in the reign of Catherine the Great, who attends the ball in Act II appearing on the audience side of the auditorium, if the performers on stage were to be believed. And indeed they were entirely believable, except for the main pair, Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts as Herman, and Orla Boylan as Lisa. Both had their good moments, their vocal performances were uneven, and their stage presentations left much to be desired. He looked like the Act III version of Baron Ochs from Rosenkavalier with his wig missing, and evinced little of the desperately obsessive passion that Tchaikovsky invested in this role. Her matronly appearance carried no conviction as the sheltered girl who falls for this nutcase and gives up her fiancé, Prince Yeletsky. Admittedly Tchaikovsky’s opera, with its libretto by his brother Modest, along with Pyotr Ilyich’s own emendations, is a far cry from Pushkin’s original novella, and the roles of Herman and Lisa are difficult ones to inhabit, but these were not convincing portrayals.

The Countess at the ball

The orchestra gave a good rendering of the score under the direction of Richard Farnes, not helped by the very dry acoustic of the Barbican Theatre. Better is the Barbican Concert Hall, and far better would have been Sadler’s Wells. This is not a good venue for opera, as it gives little feeling of ensemble to the orchestra. Moreover the orchestra pit was too small, so the trombones and trumpets were on stage right, with percussion and harp on stage left, and though the players did well to handle the situation, it is not ideal. I imagine this came over much better in Leeds.

Lisa and Herman at the ball

One small point about the production is that the card game of faro in Act III seemed too abstract, with no money on the table. Herman thinks he has drawn the player’s card, an ace, while the dealer’s card is a queen. In fact he holds the queen of spades — the killer that destroys him, just as his obsession led directly to the death of the Countess, and indirectly to the death of Lisa. Tchaikovsky found himself very much in sympathy with Herman’s obsessions in this opera and wrote the music in little more than six weeks. If you haven’t seen it before, performances continue until November 24 — for details click here.