Antony and Cleopatra, Chichester Festival Theatre, CFT, September 2012

At the start of this production Cleopatra stands in a long golden gown with her back to the audience, and before committing suicide towards the end she appears in the identical position. Thus was framed Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra, brilliantly served by Peter McKintosh’s fine designs and beautiful lighting by Paul Pyant. The split-level, with ladders leading from upper to lower, assisted rapid changes of scene as we move between Egypt and Rome, and sound effects by Sebastian Frost were excellent.

Antony in Egypt, all images Georgia Oetker

The comparatively long hair for Antony and his chief aide Enobarbus gave them a slightly alien air compared to other Romans, like colonial officers gone native, and Michael Pennington made full use of his wonderful voice in the role of Antony. As Octavius Caesar, Martin Hutson gave a wonderfully convincing performance showing a leader taking pains to be reasonable while keeping clear of messy entanglements, and his careful cleaning of the edge of a barrel before sitting on it in the drunken scene was a nice touch. In the small role of his sister Octavia, Ruth Everett was outstanding, and as the understudy for Cleopatra it would have been very interesting to see her perform that role. As it was we had American actress Kim Cattrall who came good in the end though her mercurial and manipulative histrionics at the start were unattractive, and there was little chemistry between her and Antony.

Cleopatra

It’s difficult to know whether this was partly due to a lack of focus by director Janet Suzman, and whether better direction might have helped Ian Hogg in the important role of Antony’s right hand man Enobarbus. His speeches lacked clarity and conviction, and the important turning point when he decides to switch sides came and went with little impact. Martin Herdman as Lepidus, the third member of the triumvirs, was excellent in the drunk scene, and there were some fine performances in smaller roles, with Jack Bannell very strong as the Roman officer Proculeius, and Offue Okegbe giving a sympathetic portrayal of the eunuch Mardian at Cleopatra’s court.

Octavius Caesar

In the end my main impression was of Michael Pennington’s Antony as a tragic figure, and Martin Hutson as the sure-footed young Octavius (he was 32 when Antony died) who will later become Caesar Augustus, while Cleopatra seemed more of a catalyst for these historical figures rather than a fascinating and intelligent woman in her own right.

Performances continue until September 29 — for details click here.

Uncle Vanya, Minerva Theatre, Chichester, April 2012

For mockery and a self-deprecating sense of humour, Roger Allam’s Vanya is hard to beat.

Roger Allam as Vanya, all images Johan Persson

From his first clumsy entrance onto stage, to his bumbled expostulation, “I could have been a Dostoevsky”, and his failure to shoot the brother-in-law he’s learned to detest, this was a Vanya fated to manage the estate as an also-ran. The brother-in-law, Professor Serebryakov is a clever narcissist, attractive to the ladies, and as portrayed by Timothy West an endearingly frail old fool.

Timothy West as Serebryakov

Both Vanya and Dr. Astrov, very engagingly portrayed here by Alexander Hanson, are enamoured of Serebryakov’s young (second) wife Yelena, played by Lara Pulver, but she lacked allure, and seemed overly neurotic. By contrast, Vanya’s niece, Sonya is supposed to be very plain, and Dervla Kirwan managed to make herself a rather dull fish, without being tiresome like Yelena. Maggie McCarthy and Anthony O’Donnell were a delight as the homely consciences of the house, providing earthy background against which Vanya could lose his head and his heart, and Astrov and Sonya just their hearts. But in this production by Jeremy Herrin, in a colloquial translation by Michael Frayn, the youthful anima of Yelena never gave them a reason to become so besotted.

I liked the sets by Peter McKintosh with the windows at the rear of the stage through which we see the outside world as in a mist, with rain dripping down when the storm comes exactly on cue with Vanya’s prediction. I liked the lighting by Chahine Yavroyan that gave that mistiness to the outer world, and I loved the two musicians setting the scene by playing wind and strings behind the windows.

Sonya and Uncle Vanya

This Chekhov play is a wonderful vehicle for taking an irreverent sweep at those nit-picking academics, in their fake-ivory hovels, who dissect the work of other more creative people. And Vanya’s pamphlet-reading mother, trying to understand the work of second-rate minds, is a harbinger of the later nonsense that was to engulf Russia, less than two decades after the author’s death. Yet the irritating narcissism of Vanya’s mother and the Professor were subdued in this production, and I wonder whether some of her lines were cut. The most irritating presence was the young wife Yelena, but in the end as she and her husband leave, Roger Allam’s Vanya is the focus of our attention in the slow dénouement. Will he blow his brains out, or accept his niece’s emotional support in doing the numbers and seeing that the point of life is life itself, as Dr. Chekhov well knew.

Performances continue until May 5 — for details click here.

The Marriage of Figaro, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, October 2011

Sometimes in Figaro the Count can appear a bit of a twerp, but not here. Fiona Shaw’s new production allows him to show testosterone-fuelled frustration, and Roland Wood acted the part as if he were Lord Grantham in Downton Abbey with a wonderful singing voice and hormones running riot, even tearing a doll to pieces in Act III. Forget the TV series — go to the opera. With Elizabeth Llewellyn stepping in at the last minute as the Countess, this was simply wonderful. Her cavatina at the start of Act II when she sighs for the loss of her husband’s love immediately raised the performance a notch, just as it had at Holland Park this summer.

Iain Paterson as Figaro, all images by Sarah Lee

Iain Paterson sang a very solid Figaro, with excellent diction, though you never felt he was in any danger of losing the plot, and Devon Guthrie sang a beautiful Susanna. She was delightful in every way, and Kathryn Rudge as Cherubino gave a remarkable en travesti performance, acting very much the amorous young man. The whole cast sang extremely well together, with fine support from Paul Daniel in the orchestra pit.

This Mozart and Da Ponte opera has a cutting edge, based as it is on Beaumarchais’s play, which was banned from the stage in Vienna where the opera was first performed, and this production adumbrated the tension between master and servants rather well. The translation by Jeremy Sams was suitably direct, as for example when the Count sings at the start of Act III, “Could it be that another of my lackeys has got ideas above his station”. And the emphasis on the master/servant relationship is alluded to before the overture even starts, as we see projections of silhouettes doffing their hats and bowing deeply. But if this makes it sound too political, the production admirably adheres to Beaumarchais’s alternative title The Crazy Day (La folle journée), with a rotating stage conveying different aspects of the house’s interior and adding to the confusion all round at the end of Act II.

Roland Wood as the Count with Antonio the gardener and Figaro

The designs by Peter McKintosh involved traditional costumes in an abstract modern setting, and the occasional use of video cameras pulled the whole thing forward in time as if we were looking back on a vanished world. Certainly that world vanished in one part of Europe with the French revolution in 1789, just three years after the first performance in Vienna, and the opera was only shown in France for the first time in 1793.

As with other English National Opera productions using modern translations, the words have an immediate effect, and Fiona Shaw’s production allows the performers to inhabit their roles and work together as if this were repertory theatre.

The result is well worth seeing, and performances continue until November 10 — for details click here.

Roberto Devereux, Holland Park Opera, June 2009

Robert Devereux — from Wikipedia

This gloriously dramatic opera by Donizetti, composed in 1837 at the time of his wife’s death, provides a powerful vehicle for the soprano as Queen Elizabeth. The story is loosely based on the life of Robert Devereux, second earl of Essex (1565–1601), adapted by the librettist Salvatore Cammarano from the French play Elisabeth d’Angleterre by Francois Ancelot, and freely using much of Felice Romani’s Il Conte d’Essex, written in 1833.

The essentials are as follows. Robert is a favourite of the queen, but has made a mess of commanding England’s troops in Ireland, and is under attack because of his apparent treachery. The queen, fearing for Robert’s life, has given him a ring that he should return to her if need be, and she will save him. But unbeknown to the queen he is in love with Sara, wife to the Duke of Nottingham, and he entrusts the ring to her. She in turn gives him a scarf she has embroidered to express their love. In Act II the queen’s ministers arrest Robert, search his apartments, and discover the scarf. The queen is furious at the declaration of love embroidered on the scarf, and wants to condemn Robert to death despite entreaties from his friend Nottingham. Later Nottingham realises what is going on, but when the queen interrogates him and Robert as to the identity of the mystery lady, both remain silent. The queen signs Robert’s death sentence, and he is sent to the Tower. In Act III Nottingham confronts his wife and orders her seclusion at home. When she eventually manages to take the ring to the queen, followed by Nottingham, it is too late — a canon shot announces Robert’s death. Nottingham has detained his wife long enough to forestall the queen’s intervention, and she now orders their arrest. But haunted by Robert’s ghost and her own coming death she abdicates the throne. Needless to say, this is a deviation from history, though Devereux was executed in 1601, and the queen passed away two years later.

This exciting new production at Holland Park, conducted by Richard Bonynge and directed by Lindsay Posner, boasted elegant designs and glorious Elizabethan costumes by Peter McKintosh, well lit by Peter Mumford. The stage was more extensive than it has been for many Holland Park productions, and with movement directed by Adam Cooper it all came off with great effect. Irish soprano Majella Cullagh looked suitably regal as Queen Elizabeth, with her high head-gear and almost white make-up. She sang the role well, gaining power as the evening progressed. Leonardo Capalbo was an eminently realistic Robert, with Yvonne Howard doing well in the mezzo role of Sara. Baritone Julian Hubbard sang strongly as her husband Nottingham, and Aled Hall was a sinister Lord Cecil, showing excellent stage presence. For opening night on June 2, Joan Sutherland was in the audience and when people began to recognise her shortly before the start of the second half, there was a warming round of applause. Her husband Richard Bonynge conducted with excellent precision and restraint, and this would have been a terrific performance if the singers had not seemed so nervous, perhaps because it was opening night, and possibly because of the famous diva in the audience.