Der Fliegende Holländer, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, October 2011

Jeffrey Tate in the orchestra pit gave Wagner’s Flying Dutchman a wonderful clarity, helped of course by the singers, particularly Anja Kampe as a beautifully pure voiced Senta. This was the role in which she made her Covent Garden debut when the production was new in 2009.

The singers for the other main roles are different this time round, but none the worse for that, and the whole cast made a very fine team. Danish bass Stephen Milling came on very strongly at the beginning as a warm-hearted Daland, and Latvian bass-baritone Egils Silins sang the Dutchman with a noble bearing that was extremely effective towards the end when his voice carried enormous power. This was far better than my recollection of his performance in the same role at the Deutsche Oper in Berlin in the most frightful production I’ve ever seen. John Tessier gave us a feisty and strongly sung Steersman, and Endrik Wottrich was a forceful and anxious Erik.

Daland's crew in merry mood, all images Mike Hoban

The huge chorus was in top form, and musically this was excellent, helped enormously by Tim Albery’s production, which fully deserves a revival three seasons after its first appearance. The openness of the stage allows David Finn’s lighting to play a superb part. Singers are occasionally lit in ways that show only their head and shoulders, yet this can change to reveal the whole body, and the use of colours is very clever. Daland is warmly lit, the Dutchman is coldly lit, and when the Dutchman’s crew appear from nowhere they are in an eerie greenish light. This occurs in an enclave of the stage that previously opened up for Daland’s crew — who have been fooling around and even falling into the water — when suddenly … they scatter as the otherworldly crew take their place. After these ghostly sailors have finished their chorus the opening in the stage slowly closes and we see them no more. It’s very effective.

The phantom crew suddenly replaces Daland's men

The lighting brings out the phantom nature of the Dutchman who perpetually sails the seas, landing only once every seven years to seek salvation in a woman’s undying love. When it appears he may have found redemption this time, he too is cast in a reddish glow, but it is not to be.  As the gangplank to his ship rises, Senta clings on, but in the end she is defeated and takes her place centre stage with her magnificent three-mast model ship, and the lighting does the rest.

It’s a super production with an excellent cast — don’t miss it. Performances continue until November 4 — for details click here — and BBC Radio 3 will broadcast it on November 12 at 6 p.m.

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.