The Death of Klinghoffer, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, February 2012

This opera has sparked controversy at its first staging in London. Why?

All images by Richard Hubert Smith

The essential story is that in 1985 an Italian cruise ship at dock in Alexandria was hijacked by four Palestinian terrorists, who seem to have had a confused idea about freeing prisoners in Israeli jails. Many of the people on the cruise were away at a tour of the pyramids, leaving mainly women and children on board, along with a 70-year old American tourist, Leon Klinghoffer in a wheelchair. The terrorists ended up negotiating some kind of deal for landing the ship in Syria after shooting Klinghoffer in the back and dumping him and his chair overboard.

Klinghoffer and wife

The opera itself, created by John Adams and librettist Alice Goodman, serves to remind us of an unedifying spectacle in the recent history of terrorism, and the anti-semitic remarks made by the Palestinians surely do not reflect the opinions of either composer or librettist. The production by Tom Morris, with sets by Tom Pye, hews closely to the concept embodied in this creation, but does the whole thing work?

Five years ago I saw a rather lovely Adams opera called  A Flowering Tree, based on an old Tamil story, a far cry from the days when he went out of his way to tackle political issues. Nixon in China was wonderful, and Klinghoffer and Dr. Atomic have been acclaimed by some. Part of the problem with Klinghoffer may be that Alice Goodman delivered her libretto in pieces, the choral parts first, and as a result the whole work is structured around six choruses, making it a cross between an oratorio and an opera.

The choral pieces are conceived in pairs, like the days of creation in the first chapter of Genesis where days 1, 2, 3 are paired with days 4, 5, 6. Here though the first pair, the chorus of Exiled Palestinians and chorus of Exiled Jews, comes in the Prologue. The Ocean chorus and the Night chorus end scenes 1 and 2 of Act I, and their counterparts, the Desert chorus and the Day chorus end scenes 1 and 2 of Act II.

Conducting by Baldur Brönnimann brought out the beauty of these choral passages, which form the musical strength of this work, and some of the solo performances came off well, particularly Alan Opie as Klinghoffer. Richard Burkhard gave a strong performance as the principal terrorist and Jesse Kovarsky did a nice dance number to complement his singing as another terrorist, but the strength of Adams’ creation is musical rather than theatrical.

Jesse Kovarsky in the dance number

Video projections by Tom Pye helped this rather static opera, sometimes showing the wake of a moving ship, sometimes the background to the choruses, and perhaps a semi-staged version in somewhere like the Festival Hall would work well too. But certainly the production fitted the opera, unlike the Rusalka now playing at Covent Garden.

Performances continue until March 9 — for details click here.

Ruddigore, Opera North, Barbican, November 2011

W. S. Gilbert, the librettist for this work, was a master of wit, not just on paper but spontaneously in conversation. When a neighbour referred admiringly to Ruddigore calling it Bloodygore, Gilbert objected, so the neighbour said: “Same thing isn’t it?” WSG was swift as a rapier, “If I admire your ruddy countenance, it doesn’t mean I like your bloody cheek, which I don’t”.

All images Robert Workman

There’s no blood in Ruddigore, but there is a ghostly episode after our hero, Robin has reluctantly accepted his real name of Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd, whose position as the Lord of Ruddigore gives him the accursed obligation of committing a crime a day. Failure to do so condemns him to death. His attempted crimes are rather inadequate, and in Act II ancestral paintings come to life to accuse him of failure. This pantomime-like episode was very well done, with excellent sets and lighting by Richard Hudson and Anna Watson. All seems lost, but the trick in the plot is that the honest Robin suddenly realises that failure to commit a crime is suicide, which itself is a crime …

Robin and Rose, just before the intervention

Robin was delightfully sung and portrayed by Grant Doyle, a versatile performer whom I last saw as a bearded Abraham in Clemency, a serious Biblical opera by James MacMillan. His beloved Rose Maybud was beautifully sung by Amy Freston whose body movements were those of a ballerina. She even did a small jeté en tournant at the end, and the sheer joy of her performance was a charm in itself. Robin’s foster-brother, Dick Dauntless was engagingly performed by Hal Cazalet, and the rest of the cast formed an excellent team around these three principals, including Heather Shipp as the Mad Margaret, Steven Page as the ancestral Sir Roderic, Richard Burkhard as the sly Sir Despard, and Anne-Marie Owens as Dame Hannah, all well directed by Jo Davies.

The ghosts of Ruddigore

Sullivan’s music was played with wit and enthusiasm under the direction of John Wilson, and it was a pleasure to see a performance of this lesser-known operetta from the Gilbert and Sullivan stable.

Performances at the Barbican continue until November 26 — for details click here.

Don Pasquale, Opera Holland Park, OHP, June 2011

Don Pasquale is Donizetti’s sixty-fourth opera, and one of his most successful. The title character is a wealthy but crotchety older man who disapproves of the marital choice of his nephew Ernesto. This young man wants to marry the high-spirited, youthful widow, Norina, so Pasquale has decided to take a young wife for himself, and disinherit Ernesto.

Dr. Malatesta and Don Pasquale, all photos Fritz Curzon

The production by Stephen Barlow sets the action in modern dress, complete with the odd mobile phone, and seems to portray Don P as the owner of a run-down, seaside fish and chip shop in England. Dr. Malatesta, friend to both Pasquale and Ernesto, sets him up with his “sister”, really Norina in disguise, and she goes to town spending his money and driving him crazy so that he’ll give up the idea of marriage, and accept Norina as his nephew’s new wife. The opera is partly based on Ben Johnson’s play The Silent Woman. But I was a bit perplexed as to how the owner of a fish and chip shop would have the money to hire masses of new servants in a brand new establishment, and found Norina’s demand that, “I want a Ferrari in the garage by tomorrow” a bit over the top. Yes, I’m sure it was meant to be that way, and the tackiness of her costume in Act III surely owes something to Covent Garden’s recent Anna Nicole, but in that opera the old man really was extremely wealthy, not the owner of a seafront fish and chip shop. I’m afraid I found it all a bit lacking in coherence, and not half as good as Stephen Barlow’s Don Giovanni for OHP last year.

Norina in Act III

Musically however, Richard Bonynge, conducting the City of London Sinfonia, gave a fine account of Donizetti’s delightful score, and was hugely supportive of the singers, particularly during the quartet in Act II. Donald Maxwell held the stage well as Pasquale, giving a strong rendering of the part — he’s always so good, even in secondary roles. And Colin Lee as Ernesto was superb — his soliloquy at the start of Act II was simply wonderful. This is a tenor who took over from Juan Diego Flores at Covent Garden two years ago as Almaviva in Il Barbieri and was the tenor in Covent Garden’s Turco last year — Holland Park did extremely well to get him. Richard Burkhard sang well as Dr. Malatesta, though I would have preferred a stronger stage presence. The fast duet between Malatesta and Pasquale in Act III was partly done as a music hall comedy routine between the two, with a walking stick and umbrella, but it went inevitably a little slowly, particularly at the point when Burkhard sang while standing on one leg, balancing an umbrella on his other foot — a quite remarkable feat! Norina was sung by Majella Cullagh, who did well as Queen Elizabeth I in Holland Park’s Roberto Devereux last year, but seemed mis-cast in the role of the pretty and flirtatious young widow. Her voice lacked the strength for the flexibility and charm this role needs.

Lighting by Mark Jonathan was very good, lending a romantic atmosphere to Act III, particularly in the way the new establishment was lit, and in the illumination of the two old fashioned street lights, both of which burst their bulbs at the end of the Pasquale-Malatesta duet in Act III — a nice touch.

Performances continue until June 24 — for more details click here.