Acante et Céphise, University College Opera, UCL, Bloomsbury Theatre, March 2012

Each year University College Opera produces a little-performed opera from the past, and this year it was by the pre-eminent composer of eighteenth century French opera, Jean-Philippe Rameau. This particular opera was originally commissioned for the royal household to celebrate the birth of an heir to the heir to the throne, incongruously tacked on to the end of a story about two lovers, Acante and Céphise, a jealous genie Oroès and a good fairy Zirphile who protects the lovers by forming a telepathic bond between them. If Oroès hurts Acante he does the same to his desired Cephise, placing him in a quandary. In this production the royal birth is turned into several births and swaddled babies are literally thrown onto the stage at the end, one for each of the many couples in the chorus.

Acante and Céphise

There are several problems with performing Rameau. Of course UCL cannot be expected to play it on original instruments, but Charles Peebles in the orchestra pit produced fine music from the orchestra after a wobbly start in the overture, and he gave huge rhythmic bounce to the dance interludes. A second problem is what to do with the dance interludes and a third problem is the lack of good librettos — Rameau does not seem to have had very successful collaborations with his librettists. To deal with the second and third problems, UCL brought in Christopher Cowell to direct and to choreograph, aided by Scarlett Perdereau and Bella Eacott, but while the programme notes highlight his international work and his directing of Rolando Villazon in a revival of Contes d’Hoffmann at the Royal Opera House, an amateur production is a very different matter.

Zirphile

While some of the dancers did well with the choreography, that was not uniformly the case, but my main complaint was the acting. Zirphile looked as if she was in great pain after several of her Act I arias, and she and some of the dancers over-acted with their facial expressions. Less can be more, and this is surely the responsibility of the director, but Lawrence Olsworth-Peter as Acante, Katherine Blumenthal as Céphise, and Kevin Greenlaw as Oroès all showed fine stage presence. Greenlaw also sang very strongly, with excellent French diction, Ms. Blumenthal sang beautifully, and Anna-Louise Costello managed well in the relatively high pitched role of Zirphile. Among the UCL students who had solo roles, Rebecca Rothwell sang with fine pitch and a lovely tone, and the chorus were magnificent.

As Rameau lovers will know, the English National Opera produced their first Rameau opera, Castor and Pollux last November, and this may well be the first staging of Acante et Céphise anywhere since the 1760s, so catch it while you can.

Performances continue until March 24 — for details click here.

Castor and Pollux, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, October 2011

Originally composed in 1737 this opera was revised in 1754 and subsequently became Rameau’s most popular. Castor and Pollux are brothers, the former mortal, the latter immortal, and the start of the story is roughly that Castor is adored by Phoebe and her sister Telaira, who is betrothed to Pollux. He gives her up so she can marry his brother, but Phoebe arranges for Castor’s abduction and he is killed. All this is in the first of five acts, and was omitted from the original 1737 composition, which instead included a prologue involving Mars, Venus and other gods.

Pollux kils his brother's killer, all photos Alastair Muir

Quite rightly the ENO is putting on the revised version, with Christian Curnyn conducting the orchestra in a raised pit so that the sound comes out more clearly, and musically this was delightful. Allan Clayton and Roderick Williams were wonderfully strong as Castor and Pollux, carrying off their roles to perfection, and Sophie Bevan was a charmingly pure voiced Telaira. Rameau was a contemporary of Handel, but his music is quite different, eschewing recitatives and arias in favour of a harmonically intriguing development of the music.

Telaira with the dead Castor

This is an opera about deeply troubled characters, about melancholy and loss. The spurned Phoebe tells her sister that she, Phoebe will recover Castor from Hades if Telaira relinquishes her love for him, but in fact only Pollux can bring Castor back, and only by giving up immortality and taking his brother’s place.  This he does, but Castor will not leave his brother, and promises to return after only a day on earth. After reuniting with Telaira he attempts to return to Hades, but in the end Jupiter annuls Castor’s promise, brings Pollux back and the brothers are turned into stars, leaving Telaira alone in her grief.

The production by Barrie Kosky has some nice aspects. I liked the very realistic fight sequence when Castor was killed, and again when Pollux killed his killer. I liked the representation of Hades in mounds of earth, I liked the starlight falling on two empty pairs of shoes at the end, while Telaira is left abandoned, and I liked the huge wooden box structure in which all the action takes place. However, I was sitting in the central section, and friends on the side said their view was badly obscured. This is important because the action goes right across the interior of the box, and from the sides of the auditorium you can’t see it all.

Masked chorus from Hades

Other aspects of the production seemed over the top. When the chorus appeared in long masks it reminded me of a different opera I saw in Germany recently, and indeed Barrie Kosky works in Berlin. A German production of a French opera based on themes from Greece and Rome sounds rather like the Euro, and it didn’t all make sense. It may appeal to those who relish the idea of seeing a woman pull her knickers down on stage, first one pair then another — I counted six in one case — to say nothing of full frontal nudity of men and women with long hair hanging over their faces, or indeed fingers emerging from Hades to penetrate Phoebe. If you like that sort of thing you may love it. I didn’t. And I do wish opera houses would make sure their producers understand that the production should be visible from everywhere in the auditorium. Covent Garden made the same error with a production of Tristan by a German director, and I hope this is a mistake the ENO will only make once.

Having said all this, though, I applaud a wonderful musical presentation of what is probably Rameau’s operatic masterpiece.

Running time is two and three-quarter hours, and performances continue until December 1 — for details click here.