Julius Caesar, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, October 2012

As a great fan of recent ENO productions I was hoping for better despite the many negative comments I had heard about this one.

Caesar and dancers, all images ENO/ Robert Workman

Julius Caesar, which deals with Caesar’s visit to Egypt in 47 BC when he was chasing Pompey and met the twenty-one-year old Cleopatra, is one of Handel’s great operas, full of rich melodies and stylistic variation, more so than any of his operas up to that time. Its rhythmic intensity compels movement from the performers, but in this odd production by Michael Keegan-Dolan the singers were mostly left fairly immobile while dancers took over the choreography. This sometimes suited the music and sometimes not, but the main problem is that it detracted from the impact of the singers and didn’t move the drama forward. Temporary losses of surtitles didn’t help, and it was not always easy to catch the words since the singers’ diction was of variable quality.

Ptolemy pours sand on Cleopatra

A more coherent production, with less histrionic waving of pistols, shots being fired, and red paint and even sand being poured over the singers might have helped, but for all that the dancers could do the choreographic content was nugatory. This was a pity because Patricia Bardon as Pompey’s widow Cornelia was a class act. Her singing and vocal expression of grief were outstanding, and counter-tenor Lawrence Zazzo as Julius Caesar had a truly Handelian quality. Tim Mead gave an intriguing and well thought out performance as Cleopatra’s teenage brother Ptolemy XIII, and Anna Christy was an earnest and vocally pretty if lightweight Cleopatra. In this important role she was poorly served by the costumes: her simple white dress and grey cardigan in Act I were frumpy, and her see-through tutu later on looked absurd.

Ptolemy and Cornelia

Christian Curnyn, who collaborated with the director in making various cuts to the music, particularly some of the recitative, conducted with a sure hand for the singers, bringing out the stylistic variety of this work, though the result was a tad lacking in bite. But it was the production that took the soul out of Handel’s masterpiece, and the transformation of Daniela Mack’s fine Sesto to be Cornelia’s daughter rather than her son seemed merely the offspring of a wish to be different.

Among strange opera productions I have seen and disliked, including some defiantly Regietheater ones in Germany, there are some I would be willing to see again in the hope they would reveal interesting though hitherto unnoticed interpretations. This is not one of them.

Performances continue until November 2 — for details click here.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, May 2011

Three worlds: the fairies, the lovers, and the rustics, all together here in a secondary school. Oberon and Tytania are teachers, Puck one of the older boys, and the other fairies smaller boys; the lovers are sixth formers; and the rustics are janitorial staff.

The tall visitor with Puck, all photos by Alastair Muir

It all starts in silence. A tall young man wanders the school grounds, hunches down and slumps in a sitting position, his back against a wall. A boy appears. The music starts. Only by reading the first sentence of the synopsis can you understand what’s going on: On the eve of his wedding, a man returns to his old school. Long-forgotten memories of his schooldays come back to him in the form of a dream … . Small boys step silently along school corridors. It’s a little unnerving, and the visitor is spooked. But is this a ‘long-forgotten memory’ or something suppressed in a hidden chamber of his mind? An essay in the programme about paedophilia describes, in the first person, a case of the latter.

Benjamin Britten’s music creates an aura of sleepy magic that becomes discomforting in Christopher Alden’s new production. The spookiness is broken slightly by the appearance of a teenage girl in school uniform, hitching her skirt up. This is Hermia, soon united with a teenage Lysander behind the large waste bins, and later, Demetrius comes on with other boys in rugby kit, pursued by Helena.

Helena attacks Hermia

Our mysterious visitor inhabits the stage throughout, sometimes staggering in a dream-like stupor, sometimes asleep, as when the rustics, in the form of the janitorial staff, prepare their play. Willard White as Bottom is quietly sewing costumes, and when they do put on the play in Act III it’s a riot of colour against the grey background of the school, and very funny.

Acts I and II are run together without an interval, giving an intense atmosphere to the first part. In the second part, after the lovers’ problems have been put right and they are welcomed by Theseus and Hippolyta, his bride to be, the six of them occupy one of the audience boxes and enjoy the rustics’ spectacle. But Theseus has been there all the time … we never knew it, but he was the silent dreamer revisiting his old school, and Hippolyta already appeared in one of his dreams. Now all is well, or so we think. As the fairies are left on stage to give their blessing, Theseus takes leave of Hippolyta and is once again spooked. Will he ever escape?

Oberon and Tytania love the same boy

Britten’s music was beautifully conducted by Leo Hussain, the boys’ chorus was excellent, and the individual performances were all strong. Willard White was superb as Bottom, showing excellent stage presence, as did Jamie Manton who was a wonderful Puck. Anna Christy sang a fine Tytania, and William Towers did remarkably well as Oberon, coming up from Glyndebourne at the last minute to take over from Iestyn Davies who acted the part on stage — he was unwell, and so was his understudy. Apparently Allan Clayton rose from his sick-bed to sing Lysander, performing brilliantly, and I particularly liked the voice of Tamara Gura as Helena. Paul Whelan as Theseus was remarkable — as the visitor and dreamer he was a fine silent actor, and as the king of Athens he sang a strong bass.

Tytania indulges in S&M with Bottom

The set design by Charles Edwards emphasised a powerful and claustrophobic atmosphere for the school, well lit by Adam Silverman, and the costumes by Sue Wilmington were entirely in keeping with the production. If you want a traditional take on the story, this is not for you, and the production team certainly received some boos at the end. But if you’re willing to accept a representation of mysterious forces in the otherwise mundane world of human beings, then this is strongly recommended as an intriguing take on Britten’s opera.

Performances continue until June 30 — for more details click here.

Lucia di Lammermoor, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, February 2010

This David Alden production for the ENO, originally staged in 2008, has a clarity that allows a striking distinction between Lucia’s beloved Edgardo, and her brother Enrico. He is shown as a very nasty piece of work — a child still playing with his toys, putting his hand up his sister’s skirt, and showing himself to be an immature bully who eventually twists the neck of the mortally self-wounded Edgardo. This is hardly the Walter Scott story on which the opera is based, but the libretto by Salvadore Cammarano cut some of the main characters, namely Lucia’s mother and father, in order to fit the story into a three act opera. The result is usually considered a great success, and it makes Enrico the force behind Lucia’s fatal wedding, against her will, after he has shown her some forged letters demonstrating that Edgardo no longer cares about her. Enrico’s retainer, Normanno who is fully complicit in these forgeries is shown to be a callous rogue when he laughs loudly after hearing the chaplain’s condemnation. Altogether, David Alden has created a particularly malicious take on the story, and it works.

As Lucia, Anna Christy sang beautifully, and looked about sixteen. This was partly helped by her excellent costume, courtesy of Brigitte Reiffenstuel whose costumes gave a strong impression of religious Protestantism, and I liked the bowler hats on some cast members — in particular Normanno — reminding me of the Orangemen in Northern Ireland. Indeed Scott’s original story had this feature, as Lucia’s family were Protestant supporters of William of Orange, while Edgardo’s family were supporters of the Jacobites. But to return to the singing, Barry Banks was a very fine Edgardo, and Brian Mulligan a strong Enrico. Clive Bayley sang very clearly and powerfully as the chaplain, holding the stage with his erect posture, which reminds me that the staging involved people on their knees at many points, making them look small and powerless in this ill-fated drama of love and hatred. This was helped by the set designs of Charles Edwards, which were simple, yet surprisingly effective. With Adam Silverman’s lighting they gave an appropriate air of darkness and decay to the dwelling places of both Edgardo and Enrico.

Of course the singers can only give their best with suitable direction from the orchestra pit, and here we have to thank conductor Antony Walker for excellent work. The orchestra, including a glass harmonica that is used during Lucia’s mad scene, played beautifully. These are performances of Lucia that should not be missed!