Rigoletto, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, October 2010

A wittily malicious jester has a daughter he adores, who means everything to him, but loses her through his own vengeful actions in planning the murder of her seducer, the libidinous Duke of Mantua. The duke gets many of the best tunes, but the most important character is the jester, Rigoletto, and we are lucky in this new run to have Dmitri Hvorostovsky in the role. He was sensational, both in singing and acting . . . those little jumps, apparently balanced on his sticks, were extraordinary, befitting a jester who is also a truly tragic character.

 

Hvorostovsky as Rigoletto, photos by Johan Persson

 

In the small role of Count Monterone, who curses Rigoletto, Michael Druitt was very powerful, and as he is led away to prison — for cursing the Duke too — he regrets that his curse was ineffective. In response, Rigoletto’s “Non, vecchio, t’inganni — un vindice avrai” (No, old man, you’re wrong — you’ll be avenged) was brilliantly delivered by Hvorostovsky. Patrizia Ciofi as his daughter Gilda sang with a beautiful lyricism, and her last words, “in cielo, vicina alla madre — in eterno per voi . . . preghero” (with my mother in heaven I will always pray for you) were heart-rendingly delivered. She sang the same part beautifully three years ago at Covent Garden, but this time I felt she inhabited the role more convincingly. Raymond Aceto as the hired assassin Sparafucile also reprised his excellent performance from three years ago, and Wookyung Kim was once again the duke, though I’m afraid his voice doesn’t do it for me. He lacks the effortless insouciance that this role demands.

 

Hvorostovsky and Ciofi

 

As to David McVicar’s production, revived by Leah Hausman, I have got used to the rather grim set, which is cleverly rotated, sometimes almost imperceptibly slowly, and I love the lighting by Paule Constable. Costumes by Tanya McCallin are very good, but the one thing I dislike is that orgiastic first scene of Act I . . . bare breasts, naked bodies, men behaving like dogs on leads . . . it all seems gratuitously over the top. Good fun for the participants, but it looks a bit contrived, and not in keeping with Verdi’s music at that point in the opera.

However, the music was authentically performed in great Verdi style under the baton of Dan Ettinger, and further performances with this cast are scheduled for October 14, 16, 19, 21, 23.

Le Nozze di Figaro, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, May 2010

This production by David McVicar, with designs by Tanya McCallin, contrasts the spaciousness of Count Almaviva’s house with the dingy servants’ bedroom to be inhabited by his valet Figaro and the Countess’s maid Susanna, after their marriage, and the effect works very well. The stage is made to look enormous, helped by the widening of the proscenium arch, and the sets are fully visible from the front of the Amphitheatre — a welcome change from some productions I could name! But it’s the performance that really counts, and we were lucky to have two superb men: Erwin Schrott as Figaro, and Mariusz Kwiecien as the Count. Along with Eri Nakamura as Susanna, their flawless singing and fine acting was a delight. Schrott has excellent comic timing and an extraordinary ability to sing as if he is simply talking, and it’s remarkable that Ms. Nakamura is still in the Jette Parker young artists’ programme.

In the servants' bedroom, Susanna and Cherubino, with Figaro, the Count and Basilio, photo by Clive Barda

These three were very well aided by Annette Dasch as a statuesque Countess who, after an uncertain start, showed wit and suitable concern at her husband’s philandering. She was a head taller than Susanna, which was a slight disadvantage for the confusion of identities in Act IV, but Susanna stood on a box when she pretended to be the Countess, which worked well. Robert Lloyd and Marie McLaughlin were entirely convincing as Bartolo and Marcellina, Peter Hoare was hilariously precious as Don Basilio, and Amanda Forsythe sang very well as Barbarina. Jurgita Adamonyte sang Cherubino, but I was disappointed by her somewhat ungainly stage presence, and in Act IV she behaved like an over-the-top Baron Ochs. These quibbles aside it was a fine cast, and I congratulate the Royal Opera for acquiring the services of Schrott and Kwiecien. In the orchestra pit, Colin Davis drew a rich sound from the orchestra, though I felt the music became somewhat sluggish in the final Act.

Performances of this production continue until July 3, with David Syrus taking over from Colin Davis on June 20, and Soile Isokoski taking over from Annette Dasch. And for the last two performances Jacques Imbrailo, who is singing an excellent Billy Budd at Glyndebourne, takes over from Mariusz Kwiecien.

The Turn of the Screw, ENO, English National Opera, October 2009

David McVicar’s atmospheric production with dark lighting designed by Adam Silverman gives an excellent view of this disturbing story. The designs by Tanya McCallin, involving sliding walls and screens, with black costumes for everyone, are very effective, and the performers all conveyed the haunting nature of this opera. With thirteen musicians in the pit, under the direction of Charles Mackerras, the musical rendering could not be better — Mackerras conducted the original English production at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre in 1954, so he knows very well what Benjamin Britten intended.

The singers formed an excellent cast. Rebecca Evans was wonderful as the governess, portraying her sympathy and closeness to the boy, Miles, who was beautifully played by Charlie Manton. Ann Murray was suitably prosaic as Mrs. Grose the housekeeper, who sees no ghosts, and Nazan Fikret was the girl, Flora. Cheryl Barker, whom I recall in the main role of The Makropulos Case three years ago, sang an excellently ghostly Miss Jessel, and Michael Colvin sang lyrically as the insidious Peter Quint, and as the man in the Prologue.

The story is that Miss Jessel and Quint both died in mysterious circumstances some time before the events of the opera take place, yet they still haunt the children. Only when Miles finally rejects Quint is he cured, though he dies immediately after. It’s a disturbing story that one might wish to avoid, but this production shows what a superb opera it is, very well worth a visit.

Carmen, Royal Opera, October 2009

This was the dress rehearsal for a revival of Francesca Zambello’s January 2007 production. It worked far better this time, mainly because Elina Garanča was such a superb Carmen. I last saw her as Cenerentola in the Metropolitan Opera’s live cinema screening, where she was excellent. Here, in quite a different role, her voice had the right edge for the part, and her acting was both seductively sexy and prettily arrogant. Compared to the performance of Anna Caterina Antonacci last time, which lacked all subtlety … well, there is no comparison at all. The dance sequences at Lilas Pastia’s, with professional dancers, seemed much better this time. Unfortunately the fight sequences directed by Mike Loades were still unconvincing. Designs by Tanya McCallin, with their high walls giving a sense of fateful claustrophobia, work well, as does the lighting by Paule Constable.

The orchestra gave a fine edge to the music, under the direction of Bertrand de Billy, who started things off at a galloping pace. With Elina Garanča as Carmen, and Roberto Alagna as Don José, both entirely convincing in their parts and singing so powerfully, this was a glowing performance. Liping Zhang did well as Micaela, Ildebrando D’Arcangelo was an elegant Toreador, and it was a delight to hear Henry Waddington speaking such commanding French as Lieutenant Zuniga.