The Elixir of Love, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, September 2011

A revival of Jonathan Miller’s production of Elixir, set in a diner in small town America, is an excellent way to start the new season.

Andrew Shore and Sarah Tynan, all photos by Tristram Kenton

Miller’s production first appeared in early 2010, and the two stars of those performances returned to give us their best: Sarah Tynan as the saucy, sassy Adina, and Andrew Shore as the charlatan Dr. Dulcamara. They were very well supported on this occasion by Ben Johnson as little Mr. Nobody, Nemorino, and after his singing of Una furtiva lagrima, (or ‘I saw a tear fall silently’ in Kelley Rourke’s updating to the vernacular of 1950s America), the audience burst into sustained applause. They were joined by Rory Macdonald in the orchestra pit, who did a fine job with Donizetti’s score, and vocally and orchestrally this all worked very well.

Andrew Shaw and Ben Johnson

I liked Ms Rourke’s translation — a bit of poetic license doesn’t come amiss, and in Dulcamara’s final aria where he continues to extol the wonders of his bogus medicine she has him singing, ‘And did I forget to mention/ it reduces hypertension’. Of course she had excellent material to work with because Felice Romani’s libretto is very clever. He was a master of the art of libretto writing and there’s a story that he and Donizetti created this opera in two weeks. Certainly the whole thing hangs together beautifully, and sustains adaptations.

Those of us brought up on Wagner may find Romani’s initial cavatina for Adina a bit surprising when she mentions Tristan and Isolde, but this was 1832, before Wagner had completed his first opera (Die Feen in 1833), and it was just one of those ancient tales of true love, inspired in this case by a love potion. It beautifully sets the stage for the credulous Nemorino to buy a bottle of Dulcamara’s patent medicine later in Act I.

In Act II the scene between Nemorino and Sergeant Belcore was very effective. The two young men, Ben Johnson and Benedict Nelson interacted superbly together, and Belcore’s gripping handshake on the deal for Nemorino to join the army was wittily done. With Ella Kirkpatrick singing Giannetta, the whole cast worked superbly as a team, and Jonathan Miller has done a great job of staging this again. Isabella Bywater’s designs let the chorus ladies look their best in those 1950s dresses, and though the setting is just a diner, that little bit of style is just the ticket.

All's well that ends well

Performances continue until October 8 — for details click here.

La Bohème, English National Opera, ENO at the London Coliseum, October 2010

This is the first time I’ve seen Jonathan Miller’s 2009 production, and I was enchanted. The sets and costumes by Isabella Bywater, based on images of Paris from about 1932 by the famous Hungarian photographer, sculptor and filmmaker Brassaï, are wonderful. The roofs stretching into the distance, though merely painted on a side screen, look entirely solid, and I loved the way the set opens out to transform the bohemians’ garret into the café Momus. With superb lighting designed by Jean Kalman, this is a magically authentic production.

Act III photo by Robert Workman

As I felt the energy of the orchestra in the first few bars I sat back to enjoy the musical direction of Stephen Lord, and wasn’t disappointed. After Mimi came on he opened out the music most charmingly, and Mimi herself was the star of the show, gloriously sung by Elizabeth Llewellyn, making her ENO debut. This is a young woman to watch out for, and according to the programme she will sing the Countess in Figaro at Opera Holland Park next summer. I look forward to it. Her Rodolfo was Gwyn Hughes Jones whose noble tenor voice could have used more vulnerability and enthusiasm. Roland Wood was a convincing Marcello, and I loved his duet with Mimi in Act III. His difficult lover, the effervescent Musetta, was strongly sung and performed by Mairead Buicke, though her diction was lost in the vibrato. For those who prefer their La Bohème in Italian, I’m inclined to agree, but I did rather enjoy Amanda Holden’s translation.

The four bohemians interacted well together, and their horseplay in Act IV, before Musetta comes into the apartment to announce Mimi’s fateful entrance, was perfectly done. This production never goes over the top, but it creates fun, emotion and pathos at the right places, and for those who saw it last year, it’s worth revisiting just to hear the young Elizabeth Llewellyn. Further performances are scheduled for: Oct 20, 23, 28, 30; Nov 3, 5, 12, 18, 25; and Jan 22, 25, 27, with Alfie Boe singing Rodolfo in the January performances. For more details click here.

Don Pasquale, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, September 2010

A wealthy older bachelor decides to marry a young wife. What a bad idea — as Chaucer tells us in the Merchant’s Tale, where the young wife gets up to some monkey business in a pear tree. Add to the plot a nephew who wants to marry a woman not of the older man’s choosing, and you have the basis for Ben Johnson’s Silent Woman, a play in which the wealthy fellow will cut his nephew off if he marries his intended. The idea is to trick him into accepting his nephew’s marriage while giving up his own intentions, and that’s the basis for this glorious opera by Donizetti.

Norina and Dr. Malatesta

Its libretto — by Donizetti and Giovanni Ruffini — is based on an earlier text by Angelo Anelli for Stefano Pavesi’s opera Ser Mercantonio, and that in turn was based on Ben Johnson’s play. Don Pasquale is the name of the older man, Ernesto is his nephew, and the trick is that Ernesto’s fiancée — a pretty widow named Norina — is ready to play the part of the demure wife in a fake wedding with Pasquale, and then torment him beyond endurance. All this is cleverly contrived by Pasquale’s ‘friend’ Doctor Malatesta.

Johnson’s play The Silent Woman is also the basis for Richard Strauss’s little-performed opera Die schweigsame Frau, but the Donizetti is much easier to appreciate. It’s wonderful fun, and this Jonathan Miller production is a delight, with charming designs by Isabella Bywater showing us three floors of Don Pasquale’s house, along with tired servants who do his bidding simply because it pays their wages. When Norina moves in as the new, ostensibly demure wife, all sorts of people are hired and pandemonium reigns. Miller has put in some very clever dumb shows, which were brilliantly acted, and Jacques Imbrailo as Pasquale’s friend Doctor Malatesta was particularly good here, as was Bryan Secombe in the small part of the notary — I loved his pointed nose.

Don Pasquale with his 'wife' Norina

Imbrailo’s singing had great strength and charm, and Paolo Gavanelli gave us a boldly acted and well-nuanced portrait of the pig-headed Pasquale, a comic character, but one for whom we could still feel sympathy. Iride Martinez gave us a strongly sung Norina, and Barry Banks was an effete Ernesto with a lovely Rossini tenor voice.

Conducting by Evelino Pido, an excellent replacement for the late Charles Mackerras, gave a thrill to the overture before launching into some lyrical moments, and pacing things very well.

Performances continue until September 21.

The Elixir of Love, English National Opera, ENO at the London Coliseum, February 2010

Andrew Shore as Dulcamara and Sarah Tynan as Adina. Photo by Tristram Kenton

This Donizetti opera with its wonderful libretto by Felice Romani, doyen of the Italian librettists of his day, is always a treat. Having seen it so many times in productions set in 19^th century Italy, I’ve sometimes wondered what the original would have felt like in 1832, in what would have been the rather limited rural society of the day. This new Jonathan Miller production — imported from the New York City Opera — shows us, by placing the action in 1950s America. The programme claims it’s the American Midwest, the notes that I read say the American Southwest, and the car driven by Dulcamara has a Texas number plate — take your pick. Wherever it is, it works well, with designs by Isabella Bywater and lighting by Hans-Åke Sjöquist.

Having the libretto in English may disappoint some who love the Italian, but this adaptation by Kelley Rourke is very effective. When the beautiful young Adina, looking like Marilyn Monroe and running a diner, sings “Oh, Tristan conquering hero come take me as your bride”, we need no surtitles, and we know that here is no simple country girl. Her comment brings the idea of a love potion into focus even before Dulcamara and his bogus medicines have been seen or heard of. When he drives up in his smart and slightly dusty open top car, the small community centred on Adina’s Diner is agog, and at a dollar a bottle his cure-all is quickly snapped up.

Andrew Shore as Dulcamara did a fine job of presenting this charlatan as a man with panache — not a clown, but a fellow who would not be out of place in an auction house. And with Sarah Tynan singing beautifully as a charmingly shrewd Adina, we had two smart characters, contrasting well with the slower wits of Nemorino and Sergeant Belcore, both of whom want to marry her. Although she finds Belcore attractive, Nemorino just needs a bit of confidence in order to win his girl, and Dulcamara’s bogus love potion gives it him. There is, admittedly, his wealthy uncle in the background, whom Adina is perfectly well aware of, but she likes him for himself, and eventually gets the best of both his desire and his money. John Tessier portrayed Nemorino convincingly well, going from an abject lack of self-confidence to supreme certainty that Adina will fall for him, and David Kempster played Belcore without the exaggerated swagger one sometimes sees.

Musically this was wonderful, with the young conductor Pablo Heras-Casado, still in his early thirties, making Donizetti’s composition ring with joy and energy. The singing of Sarah Tynan was particularly good, and very well supported by Andrew Shore’s Dulcamara and John Tessier’s Nemorino. This performance was a delight to listen to, but even more of a delight to experience on stage.