Tosca with Opolais, Lee and Volle, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, 20 March 2013

In this new cast, Kristine Opolais and Yonghoon Lee complemented Michael Volle, who has sung Scarpia all this month at Covent Garden. From my previous experience of him in other bass-baritone roles (from Salome to Aida) he more than lived up to expectations, but it was Yonghoon Lee as Cavaradossi who was the new find of the evening.

The Act I set, all images ©ROH/ Tristram Kenton

From his Recondita armonia in Act I to his final moments in Act III this man was a revelation. His passion for Tosca was palpable, and after his glorious E lucevan le stelle in Act III, which he started very quietly and gently, he grasped at her when she appears with the safe conduct. Unlike the usual plump tenors, Yonghoon Lee is admirably slim, and he used his body to great effect. His Vittoria in Act II was the outburst of a committed young artist, his whole body showing passionate commitment, and emphasising the brutal mendacity of a police chief in the dying days of a lost regime. Then in the late moments of Act III standing with his back to the audience while the soldiers fire, he crumpled, his life blown away like the flame of a candle.

Scarpia in Act II

As Scarpia the police chief, Michael Volle’s characterisation and voice came over with huge power. From the dramatic sweep of his entrance in Act I to his grasp of a prize that eludes him and suddenly kills him in Act II, this was a great performance. Standing on the lower level near the Attavanti chapel in Act I you can see him thinking, and as the act closes his determination against the forces of the orchestra below, and of God on the upper level, came through with a certainty of success. Then in Act II as he moves into Ha più forte, expressing his relish for a violent conquest rather than soft surrender, we witness the dark forces impelling this man to destroy the individual liberty. When Kristine Opolais as Tosca kills him she does so with despatch, and her anxiety for the safe conduct and placing of the candles was beautifully done. She acted the entire role with great conviction, but vocally seemed not yet ideally suited to the heady drama of Tosca.

Among smaller roles, Jeremy White made a fine Sacristan, and among small matters of production, the slow steps of the firing squad in perfect time to the music, and Spoletta’s putting an arm out to stop the captain of the guard delivering a finishing shot, show great care for detail by revival director Andrew Sinclair.

This whole performance was a treat, but what really raised its level, apart from the singers, was Maurizio Benini in the orchestra pit. His conducting of Puccini’s wonderful score generated huge emotion, with gloriously powerful sounds from the orchestra at moments such as the point in Act I just before Tosca’s exit, and in Act II when Tosca finally realises what is going on in the other room, and in the crescendo as Scarpia presses her and she screams for the torture to stop.

This was a knock-out, and the vocal characterisations by Yonghoon Lee and Michael Volle are not to be missed. Unfortunately performances with this cast are sold out, but further ones with Serafin, Antonenko and Hendricks under the baton of Daniel Oren take place in July — for details click here.

Madam Butterfly, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, May 2012

Anthony Minghella died four years ago, but his wonderful English National Opera production of Madam Butterfly lives on. Created in 2005 it attracted huge acclaim and won the Olivier Award for best new opera production.

Death at the end, all images Clive Barda

Those who attend live relays from the Metropolitan Opera in New York may have seen it in the cinema in 2009, but it’s better in the theatre so if you live anywhere near London go to the Coliseum. If theatre is anything to do with visual imagery, and it surely is, then the clever set designs by Michael Levine, the glorious costumes by Han Feng, and the fabulous lighting by Peter Mumford are a treat not to be missed. Excellent choreography by Minghella’s wife Carolyn Choa, along with the very clever use of puppetry, make this an unbeatable Butterfly production. Not only is Butterfly’s little son a puppet, but she looks on in Act III as a puppet of herself is manipulated by forces she can’t control.

Act I wedding

Mary Plazas gave a beautiful portrayal of Butterfly, with Gwyn Hughes Jones singing strongly in the thankless role of US Navy Lieutenant Pinkerton, particularly in Act III. Though his full name is Benjamin Franklin Pinkerton, she refers to him as F.B.Pinkerton, and in my view he’s more of an FB than a BF. The US consul Sharpless has explained several times that she is taking this marriage in deadly earnest, but the hedonistic young naval man couldn’t give a monkey’s. Only in Act III is he finally sorry, singing with conviction, “I’m a coward, I am weak”, but it’s too late.

John Fanning sang with real feeling as Sharpless, and Pamela Helen Stephen came over very sympathetically as Butterfly’s maid Suzuki, both of them joining the main characters from the cast of 2005. This was excellent team-work under revival director Sarah Tipple, with musical direction by Oleg Caetani in the orchestra pit. His light touch yielded emphasis at the right moments, though I missed some of the emotional swell to this music.

The Butterfly puppet

Puppetry by the Blind Summit Theatre was excellent, and the whole cast, including those black-clad figures personifying the forces of Japanese tradition, moved beautifully in time with the music. And if you need some background to Puccini’s extraordinary take on Japanese culture, see the interesting article by Adrian Mourby in the programme.

Performances continue until June 2 — for details click here.

La Bohème with Calleja and Giannattasio, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, May 2012

This production by John Copley, first staged in 1974, has been revived twenty-four times so far — not surprising since it just gets everything right. So indeed did Joseph Calleja as Rodolfo, bringing real depth and lyricism to the role.

From the very start Calleja exhibited a catching youthful energy, and after taking Mimi’s cold hand in his and launching into Che gelida manina he hit a wonderful high point when he sings of her pretty eyes as two thieves stealing his jewels (Talor dal mio forzieri …). Suddenly this is no longer some bohemian inhabitant of Paris but Rodolfo the poet, a thaumaturge of romantic invention whose soft notes floated like birds on the wing.

At the Café Momus, all images ROH/Hoban

In Acts I and II, Calleja sang everyone else off the stage, but following the first interval, Carmen Giannattasio as Mimi warmed up after a nervous start. She was making her debut in the role at Covent Garden, and finally hit the mark in her Act III duet with Marcello when she seeks him out at the inn. By Act IV she had become a fine match for Calleja, and in her curtain call she bent down to kiss the stage.

The other bohemians all did well, with Fabio Capitanucci engaging as Marcello the painter, Thomas Oliemans attractive as Schaunard the musician, and Matthew Rose singing a fine bass as Colline the philosopher, who sells his coat to help poor consumptive Mimi. Nuccia Focile sang Musetta with rather heavy vibrato, and her stage presence failed to match the sparkle needed for her big role in Act II. Conducting by Semyon Bychkov was restrained at the start, but things warmed up musically later, and I loved the drawn-out silence just before Mimi dies in Act IV.

Act III: early morning outside the inn

That final act pitches merriment against tragedy as the four bohemians clown around before Musetta and Mimi arrive, and when Matthew Rose used a bat to hit the bread rolls for six, the audience applauded spontaneously. All great fun, but when Colline goes off to sell his coat, and Rodolfo and Mimi are left alone, Calleja and Giannattasio sang beautifully together, recalling the time they first met. When Colline returns, and Rodolfo suddenly realises something is amiss, Calleja’s distraught cries brought the house down. This is a Rodolfo not to be missed.

Finally after the curtain calls, Tony Hall came on stage with a fiftieth birthday cake for the director John Copley, celebrating a half century of brilliant work with the Royal Opera.

Performances with this cast continue until May 17 when it will be shown live on Big Screens throughout the country — for performance details click here.

La Bohème, Opera Australia live cinema relay, April 2012

Transferring the action from late nineteenth century Paris to early 1930s Berlin allowed director Gale Edwards some extra scope with Act II. The Café Momus has become a cabaret venue, replete with scantily dressed girls in stockings and corsets, including one topless, and hints of bisexuality. With a superb performance by Taryn Fiebig as a very glamorous Musetta, this was a lot of fun. She sang beautifully and her wonderful stage presence reminded me of Deborah Voigt.

Alcindoro with Musetta in Act II, all images Jeff Busby

Yet Ms. Fiebig was not the only one with panache, as Shane Lowrencev’s tall and very camp Schaunard made a great entrance in Act I at the same time as the two errand boys with provisions.  Mimi was charmingly portrayed by Takesha Meshé Kizart, and the painter Marcello was very strongly sung and acted by José Carbo. I liked the touches of paint on his clothes, and his genial disposition, allied with a firmness that Musetta could find very attractive, was ideal for the role. After all she doesn’t think much of the wealthy Alcindoro in Act II and apparently far prefers the impecunious artist.

Mimi and Rodolfo

The bohemians’ garret is a huge room with a very high ceiling, light entering from windows at the top, and plenty of room for clowning around in Acts I and IV. But in Act I it is supposed to be very cold, yet Rodolfo was in shirt-sleeves and Mimi wore an elegant crochet shawl that would not have kept her very warm. It’s also supposed to be rather dark, yet in the cinema screening I saw — which was not the live relay that will be broadcast on April 24 — the lighting was over-bright, rendering the key all too visible. And in the close-ups Ji-Min Park as Rodolfo was covered in perspiration, which made him look ill. This was particularly odd in Act IV when it’s Mimi who is dying, and I wondered why he was laughing at some points. Very strange.

All in all, however, this staging gives a fine insight into the opera, with the four bohemians interacting very well together, and David Parkin as Colline giving a fine account of his beloved coat. In the cinema I was in the sound was too dry and bright, and Rodolfo’s voice did not show enough depth, but the other voices came over more successfully and the orchestra under the direction of Shao-Chia Lü gave a fine rendering of Puccini’s score, bringing out the emotive power of the music.

The cinema screening dates for Opera Australia’s season are: La Bohème 24th April; Lakmé 29th May; Don Giovanni 26th June; La Traviata 31st July; Turandot 28th August; Die tote Stadt 27th November; and then in 2013 The Pearl Fishers 29th January; and Madama Butterfly 26th March. For further information, including a list of cinema venues in the UK, click here.

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.

Il Trittico, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, September 2011

In performances of Puccini’s Il Trittico the first opera Il Tabarro often delivers the heaviest emotional punch, but not here. Suor Angelica knocked Tabarro right off the stage because of one person — Ermonela Jaho. She was … words fail me … sublime … ethereal. You have to beg, borrow or steal to get tickets for this show just to see her performance.

Suor Angelica with the other nuns, all photos ROH/Bill Cooper

She is so pure as she sings I desideri — desires are flowers of the living, and in death the Virgin Mother anticipates them all — yet after Anna Larsson as her aunt the princess arrives, cold and elegant in black, and carrying a lovely fox stole, Ms. Jaho starts to show real emotion, singing of her son, and asking for news of him. Her È morto? followed by her anguished cry, was as lyrical as it was powerful. In this production the abbess moves Angelica’s hand to sign the document, smiling obsequiously to the princess, contaminating the serene purity of the convent with her desire for the family’s money, and not a care in the world about Sister Angelica. When Ms Jaho has finished singing Senza mamma, with her cries of parlami, amore you know it’s the end for her. And when the end of the opera arrives what a huge triumph it is for Antonio Pappano in the orchestra pit and Ms Jaho on stage. A front drop comes down and Ms Jaho stands in a spotlight to thunderous applause.

Yet it was not just her — the rest of the cast was super, and Anna Larsson in particular was emotionally gripping as the princess. Even after an interval of 25 minutes one could not take another such drain on the emotions, and Gianni Schicchi was the perfect antidote.

Schicchi is the one in jeans and tee-shirt

This last opera of the evening was enormous fun, and the harmonically ostentatious pleading of the relatives produced delighted laughter from the audience. I loved the occasional disconnects in the music near the beginning, as if this were musical chairs, and Elena Zilio was an excellent Zita with Francesca Demuro superb as the young Rinuccio, so keen to marry the Lauretta of Ekaterina Siurina. As she sang O mio babbino caro to her father my only complaint is that this came over as a set piece aria, but Lucio Gallo as Schicchi gave a fine performance of a crafty peasant who can outwit the whole Donati family. Here was a man who could well use the mule, the mills, and give the house to his daughter as a wedding gift.

Il Tabarro — the set

Lucio Gallo was equally at home as Michele the barge owner in Il Tabarro, subdued and controlled yet still emotional. Richard Jones’s new production, with its set designs by Ultz was excellent, and I liked the way D.M. Wood’s lighting died down at the front of the stage towards the end. Alan Oke was superb as Tinca, and Anna Devin and Robert Anthony Gardiner were very good as the lovers. Aleksandrs Antonenko sang a hunky Luigi, but Eva-Maria Westbroek as Michele’s wife Giorgetta did not grip me. I’ve seen her give wonderful performances of Sieglinde, of Elisabeth in Tannhäuser, and even Minnie in Fanciulla, but after Irina Mishura’s Frugola has sung about her dream of a little house, and Giorgetta sweeps in with her own dream, È ben altro il mio sogno! Ms Westbroek lacked lyricism, and the duet with Luigi was disappointing. Pappano revved the orchestra up to glorious heights, but the singing didn’t rise to the same level.

Yet this Puccini trio of operas is a must-see for Antonio Pappano’s richly nuanced conducting, plus Richard Jones’s new production of Suor Angelica with Ermonela Jaho. I first saw her in January 2008 when she took over at short notice from Anna Netrebko in Traviata, and she was a knock-out. That’s a role she’ll repeat at Covent Garden in January 2012 — I shall be there!

Performances continue until September 27, with a starting time of 6:30 — for details click here.

Tosca, with Gheorghiu, Kaufmann, and Terfel, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, July 2011

The orchestra, under brilliant direction by Antonio Pappano, started with a bang and the tension kept up throughout. Lukas Jakobski made a strong entrance as the escaped prisoner Angelotti, and as he left, Jeremy White came on as a humble Sacristan followed by a madding crowd of children. All very good theatre, before Cavaradossi enters, climbs to his platform, and takes up his paints. Then as I was beginning to daydream I was pulled up short by the voice of a god — Jonas Kaufmann launching into Recondita armonia. This was . . . . well, words fail me. The performance suddenly hit a higher level. Kaufmann was fabulous, well matched by Angela Gheorghiu as Tosca, showing superb quiet notes. This was a woman in love with Cavaradossi, rather than a prima donna, and she kept up the almost understated portrayal throughout. It was very effective.

The Sacristan and children

In this Jonathan Kent production, Act I takes place on two levels and towards the end of the act, as Scarpia is singing near the Attavanti chapel, a crowd of people enter at the upper level. The lighting design by Mark Henderson works particularly well here, and watching the congregation, I noticed the bishop cross himself in time to the music. It’s only a small detail, but getting the details right help a performance come to life — and this was a performance to treasure.

Kaufmann and Terfel

Bryn Terfel’s portrayal of Scarpia showed him to be a thoroughly nasty piece of work, and at the start of Act II we see a man determined to pursue his prey, even though he serves a regime that’s about to fall to Napoleon’s forces. His soliloquies were beautifully delivered, yet when Spoletta — strongly sung by Hubert Francis — enters, Scarpia’s aggressive nature reasserts itself as he knocks the fellow over. Act II swept forward, and the dragging off of Cavaradossi after his Vittoria! Vittoria! was a hugely powerful moment. There were also lovely moments of silence, which helped raise the tension, such as when Ms. Gheorghiu launched into Vissi d’arte. After her beautiful rendering of this aria, Scarpia gave her a slow handclap — a nice touch. Her killing of him, her movements and her placing of the candles, was perfect and I had to remind myself this is an opera and she’s actually gearing everything to musical cues. It all seemed so real I wanted to tell her to get a move on and get away.

With E lucevan le stelle in Act III, Kaufmann started calmly, but by the time he hit the last line E non ho amato mai tanto la vita! (And never have I loved life so much!) his emotion flew from the stage to embrace the audience. The shots from the firing squad sounded like hell, and after Tosca jumped to her death, Spoletta calmly walked forward as the curtain comes down. The menace is still there, and one urgently waits for Napoleon’s forces to arrive.

Pappano’s conducting was nothing short of superb, and a more emotional evening one could not wish for. But one small thing occurred to me during Act I, a mere quibble with the libretto, and I only mention it for Tosca buffs. When Tosca and Cavaradossi agree to meet later she sings E luna piena (the moon is full), but Sardou sets his play specifically on 17 June 1800 when Napoleon’s forces have just won the battle of Marengo. Full moon was on 7 June that year, so the moon would be in the last quarter and have risen only an hour or two before dawn. Yes, I know . . . it’s artistic license, but I’ve never seen this mentioned before, so I thought it worth a comment.

There are only two performances with this cast, so beg, borrow or steal to get a ticket for the final performance on June 17 when the present run of Tosca will close — for more details click here.

Tosca, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, June 2011

Sex, politics and religion — heady stuff when Sarah Bernhardt played the title character in Sardou’s 1887 play La Tosca, and Puccini saw her do it. He immediately wanted to turn the play into an opera, but there were problems with the rights, and he was soon busy with Manon Lescaut and then La Bohème. Eventually he managed to return to Sardou’s play and in January 1900 produced one of the greatest operas ever.

As Floria Tosca in this performance, Martina Serafin sang and acted beautifully, and Marcello Giordani was a superb Cavaradossi. Unfortunately in the dress rehearsal I attended, Juha Uusitalo was disappointing as Scarpia. I admired him immensely in October 2008 as Jokanaan in the Met’s Salome, but here he was strangely lacking in stage presence, and failed to exhibit the menace that this forceful and much feared police chief should have. After all this is based on real events, and Sardou specifically set the action during a period of less than 24 hours, from 17 June 1800 to dawn on June 18, when Napoleon was about to liberate Rome from the rule of Naples.

The two levels in Act I with Scarpia in the foreground.

This political and personal drama is well served by Jonathan Kent’s production with its designs by Paul Brown, and well aided by Mark Henderson’s lighting, which starts very darkly in all three acts before gradually brightening, suiting the theatrical development in each case. The production has one or two unusual aspects: Act I is set on two levels, allowing Scarpia to sing on his own near the Attavanti chapel, while the choir and congregation are on the upper (ground) level; and in Act II after Tosca has killed Scarpia she finds the letter of safe-conduct not in his hand, but in the breast pocket of his jacket, stained with blood.

Martina Serafin as Tosca at the end of Act II

Scarpia’s henchman, Spoletta was brilliantly sung by Hubert Francis, whose acting and presence were stronger than that of his master, and the Sacristan in Act I was superbly portrayed by Jeremy White. These excellent performances of minor characters bring huge authenticity to the drama, but the main plaudits go of course to Serafin and Giordani, along with Antonio Pappano in the orchestra pit. Act III starts beautifully quietly — this is wonderful music, and Pappano directed it with immense sensitivity — but the repeated coughs in the audience were distracting. The Royal Opera House needs to think how they might alleviate this irritating problem — how would they manage it if this were a live cinema relay?

Performances of Tosca with the current cast continue until June 30, followed by two further performances on July 14 and 17 with Angela Gheorghiu as Tosca, Jonas Kaufman as Cavaradossi and Bryn Terfel as Scarpia — for details click here.

I shall report on the Gheorghiu/ Kaufman/ Terfel cast after the July 14 performance.

Gianni Schicchi, Beijing, National Centre for the Performing Arts, April 2011

We entered the theatre late, but though the Chinese are very punctual it didn’t matter a bit. Silently taking our seats we found ourselves watching a spoken prologue — in Chinese. The side-titles were also in Chinese, so I was fairly mystified at first. Then after Buoso died, the pianist lifted her hands to the keyboard, and the familiar music started, followed by the singing, in Italian.

Gianni Schicchi is such a witty opera one can hardly go wrong, and this was all enormous fun. The singers were wonderfully animated, all clearly looking forward to the death of Buoso, a silent mime that I’ve seen staged in other productions and found rather effective. After he expired, the entire cast — except Schicchi and his daughter Lauretta — surrounded the body, and events soon gathered pace with the search for the will.

When Brian Montgomery entered in the role of Schicchi, the performance reached new levels of wit and charm. This man, who has performed at the Met in New York and the Lyric in Chicago, as well as in many parts of Europe and the Far East, was a game changer, and the other singers supported him superbly. I can’t tell you the names of most cast members as they were only written in Chinese characters, but Rinuccio was well sung by Yang Yang, and his fiancée, Schicchi’s daughter Lauretta, was prettily sung by Wu Bixia, whose lyric coloratura is rather different from the usual soprano one expects.

It was all such fun that I managed to overlook the quiet chatter from audience members behind us, to say nothing of the man who used the light from his Blackberry to read the programme notes. Normally I’d go ballistic about such things, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. We’d entered slightly late, and weren’t the only ones. Others arrived throughout the performance and the ushers quietly and kindly showed them to their seats. The last ones came in ten minutes before the end of the opera, after which there were two encores, including a reprise of O mio babbino caro sung by the whole cast.

Anyone visiting Beijing should see the National Centre for the Performing Arts, a fabulous egg-shaped building surrounded by water. Its several theatres take time to walk to — and that’s after you’ve been through security where you must give up cameras and bottles of water — so arrive ten minutes early or, like us, you’ll be late for the performance.

Il Tabarro, and Gianni Schicchi, English Touring Opera, ETO, Hackney Empire, March 2011

Of the operas dealing with unfaithfulness in marriage, where a man kills his wife’s lover, the two that really get to me are Mascagni’s Cavalieri Rusticana, and Puccini’s Il Tabarro. The Puccini is a superbly dark and intense drama and, like his other operas, combines musical depth with gripping theatre. Moored on the Seine is a barge whose owner, Michele has lost the love of his much younger wife, Giorgetta after the loss of their baby a year before. While he manages the business and broods, she takes up with a handsome young stevedore named Luigi.

Luigi and Giorgetta, all photos by Richard Hubert Smith

The end is never in doubt, but in the meantime we hear about the frustrations of life. There are two other stevedores: Tinca who drinks because his wife goes with other men, and Talpa whose wife comes to the boat and tells Giorgetta of her dreams for a quiet retirement. At this point, Julie Unwin who sang Giorgetta with immense emotional power, launched into È ben altro il mio sogno! giving us the highlight of the evening, a wonderful cri de coeur for the romance of life in a Paris suburb. Two young lovers lighten the mood before the end when Luigi mistakes the lighting of Michele’s pipe for Giorgetta’s signal to come to the boat and meet her. When she finally reappears from below deck, she tries to make up with her husband and reminds him he once told her that everyone wears a cloak (tabarro) that sometimes hides happiness, sometimes something sad. “And sometimes a crime” is the response.

Michele lights his pipe, heralding the dénouement

Simon Thorpe gave us a sympathetic portrayal of Michele, with Charne Rochford handsome and strong-voiced as his wife’s lover. Tinca and Talpa were wonderfully portrayed by Andrew Glover and Arwel Huw Morgan, and with James Conway’s direction the whole cast worked tremendously well together. The designs by Neil Irish gave just the right sense of darkness and closeness, and while this was very much a team effort, Julie Unwin was assuredly the star — utterly convincing in her amorous frustration.

Gianni Schicchi was a fine way to end the evening, and Richard Mosley-Evans played the title role with great theatrical panache. This was enormous fun, with Paula Sides as Schicchi’s daughter, and Ashley Catling as her fiancé, along with Buoso’s ridiculously grasping family, the doctor, the lawyer and the witnesses.

Reading Buoso's will before Schicchi arrives

The whole thing came off very well indeed, and Paula Sides gave a lovely rendering of O mio babbino caro. The ending, with the fires of hell spouting up as if by accident from the boxes in the room, and the dead Buoso tumbling out of a cupboard, was a fitting finale to a fine evening’s entertainment, well conducted by Michael Rosewall in the orchestra pit.

Lauretta pleads with her father Schicchi: O mio babbino caro

After a further performance in London at the Hackney Empire on March 11, this pair of operas goes on tour to the following venues: Cambridge Arts Theatre, March 17, 18; Exeter Northcott, March 24, 25; Assembly Hall Theatre, Tunbridge Wells, March 28; The Hawth, Crawley, April 1; The Everyman Theatre, Cheltenham, April 7, 8; The Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield, April 11; Snape Maltings Concert Hall, April 15; Norwich Theatre Royal, April 20; Wolverhampton Grand Theatre, May 3; Buxton Opera House, May 5; Hall for Cornwall, Truro, May 10; Lighthouse, Poole, May 13; Gala Theatre, Durham, May 16; Perth Festival, Perth Theatre, May 21; Grand Opera House, Belfast, May 26, 27.