The production is defined by a feeling of inexorable accumulation and breakthrough, exquisitely soundtracked by the simple modulations and textural transformations of Glass’ score. Ordinary objects – corrugated iron, wicker baskets, paper and cardboard – manifest extraordinary creatures – some grotesque, some beautiful – that teem with awkward life. As a political allegory for how collective action transforms everyday life, it was deeply moving.
Sams takes the opportunity to re-write the libretto when necessary, not only making his words fit the music but even achieving the near impossible feat of making it all sound completely natural as though it were all written in English in the first place.
Many directors today choose to set operas in the 1950s or ’60s, and the reasons why are not hard to find. The period is still recent enough to retain a certain air of familiarity, which can help make the action relatable. At the same time, it is still ‘historical’ enough to maintain many of the traditional values and hierarchies on which the works originally played. This is not, however, the only reason why Phelim McDermott’s production, a joint venture between English National Opera and The Metropolitan Opera that first appeared at the London Coliseum in 2014, sets the drama on Coney Island in the 1950s. To McDermott, amusement parks take us into a different realm with their magic, exuberance and allure, and it is this type of territory that the quartet of lovers enter as they all go on their extraordinary adventure.
Ruders’s detailed orchestral colours are never dull, swerving from the sweet tonality of Amazing Grace (quoted in the score) to aggressive dissonance, enhanced by a battery or instruments from harpsichord and piano to xylophone, bells, gongs, woodblocks, unidentifiable grindings and sizzlings and the insistent ambush of a large bass drum. Every aspect of the singing and production is impressive, fluently staged with a backdrop of drapes and a few mobile set pieces such as The Wall. The women of English National Opera’s chorus have many opportunities to shine, and do. The hardworking ENO orchestra excels.
Ruders and his librettist, Paul Bentley, have succeeded magnificently in transferring a book, much of whose action is in memories and internal monologue, to the stage. Flashbacks to Offred’s Life Before with her mother, husband, and daughter are back-projected black-and-white film. Act One ends with a birth — to the Handmaid Ofwarren, a moment of communal rejoicing — Act Two with a death, the whole framed by an academic symposium in which a historian in 2065 — Call My Agent!’s Camille Cottin — plays us Offred’s clandestine tapes, making it clear from the start that Gilead, like Nazi Germany, is a historical aberration.
David McVicar’s production of ‘Die Zauberflöte’ is filled with nocturnal high-jinks
Classic production by David McVicar of Mozart's last opera returns to Covent Garden with a new cast and a star turn
Perfect ensembles and recits with Antonio Pappano's return as conductor and fortepianist
Mostly steering clear of recent developments in sexual politics, David McVicar's production leaves us to marvel afresh at Mozart’s genius
The role of Krishna was taken by Andri Björn Róbertsson with panache.
Other singers who impressed were Clive Bayley as Parsi Rustomji and Andri Björn Róbertsson as Lord Krishna.
Mark Stone is a powerful, flexible Wozzeck, the voice knows how to be humble, but also incisive, projected, voluntary. / Mark Stone est un Wozzeck puissant, souple, la voix sait se faire humble, mais aussi incisive, projetée, volontaire.
Harnessed like a beast of burden to an agricultural cart, Mark Stone in Wozzeck deploys the broad spectrum of his voice in his humiliated cry of despair ‘Wir arme Leut’, but this lament no longer has its character of resistance to the captain, who has left to get dressed. The pronunciation of the title role’s interpretation is intelligible and eloquent, snapping the dental and palatal consonants, lengthening the sibilant and hissing, rounding the vowels. / Harnaché comme une bête de somme à une carriole agricole, Mark Stone en Wozzeck déploie le large spectre de sa voix dans son cri de désespoir humilié ‘Wir arme Leut’ mais cette complainte n'a plus son caractère de résistance face au capitaine, celui-ci étant parti s'habiller. La prononciation de l'interprète du rôle-titre est intelligible et éloquente, faisant claquer les consonnes dentales et palatales, allongeant les sifflantes et chuintantes, arrondissant les voyelles.
Wojciech Parchem offered a characterful and healthily-produced tenor as Red Whiskers, suggesting that he also could be a fine Vere.
The cast is entirely new, and it’s led by a British tenor who is now deservedly moving centre-stage in London after a long apprenticeship in Germany. Benjamin Hulett’s sound is simply glorious – rich, rounded, warm, and expressive – and he incarnates Prince Tamino as though born to play the part.
Bliss deftly wielded his silky tenor through Ferrando’s more touching scenes; faced with Fiordiligi’s initial refusal and Dorabella’s unfaithfulness, his cavatina “Tradito, schernito,” rang with a fine, crestfallen timbre. This seeming defeat tinged his later duet with Car, “Fra gli amplessi,” with a desperate passion that was hard to resist, as heard from the beckoning caress he placed on the phrase “In me alone you’ll find husband, lover, and more if you wish.”