Opera North / Recenze

And the Count was played by Byron Jackson who had such a powerful voice as well as stage presence. I really had no choice but to take in all of the sounds when Byron was on stage. Even during those swells from the pit, Byron was able to sing over and remain part of the musical score, without being too shouty or over the top. For a first time opera goer, this is really impressive to see and the whole character was really well developed and clear.

Bright white neon strip-lighting of the sort found on shop fronts forms a huge frame for the libidinous Duke of Mantua’s wild party as Opera North's new Rigoletto opens, and it is soon apparent that this marks the production's modern relevances. Soon afterwards, a gilded frame (sets by Rae Smith) descends behind the laughing, sneering courtiers, holding a painting of a traditional marriage ceremony, signifying the old values being ignored. Director Femi Elufowoju Jr ensures that Verdi's opera, which originally opened in Austrian-controlled Venice in 1851 after problems with censors who thought it had too many subversive contemporary resonances, has a successful afterlife by doing more of the same. For a start, Rigoletto does not have a hump, an “anatomical anomaly” according to Elufowoju. His otherness comes from his belief that he will never be allowed to fully integrate into society, especially with the startlingly vicious aristocrats he is employed to entertain. He specifically wanted to cast a black singer not only as Rigoletto, but also as Gilda and Monterone, making this a memorable landmark production. The inclusion of very modern references brings a disconcerting jokiness to the first scene, for example a bicycle delivery of pizzas is searched by the Duke’s security, and a spitted roast hog is wheeled in. The contrasts are enormous. In the same scene, Count Monterone, mocked by Rigoletto for his powerlessness after his daughter has been molested by the Duke, delivers his curse. The Count is played by Sir Willard White as a Nigerian chieftain. His authoritative voice was heard again, this time more stentorian, when he reappeared as a spirit at the end of the final act. Russian tenor Roman Arndt emphasised the Duke’s crowd-pleasing qualities particularly well, as well as his arrogance. His subtle interpretations were most evident in “La donna è mobile”, which was well worth waiting for in Act 3. Eric Greene was stunning as Rigoletto, most convincing when he railed against the vile courtiers in Act 2: I found his ragingly passionate “Cortigiani vil razza dannata” to be breathtaking, and he transitioned seemingly effortlessly into caring father and tragic victim of the curse. Habersham blended well with Greene, and was suitably tragic in Act 3, though I was not too sure about the insulated snowsuit she changed into before she was stabbed. Callum Thorpe’s bass voice conveyed plenty of edginess in his role as the murderer Sparafucile, and he peeled an apple with his gleaming knife in a way which prompted the recollection that this opera has been produced in a Mafia context. The set here depicts an out-of-town district of Mantua which is part of a dystopian version of a modern city, with scruffy tents, dismal lighting and an abandoned car. Here, the neon lighting is redeployed to flash for a spectacular storm sequence. Maddalena, Sparafucile's sister, here played by Russian mezzo Alyona Abramova, was played as a slinky sex worker who seduces the Duke, who is slumming it to extremes. He was obviously not fazed by a brothel in a tent, which made his aria about the fickleness of women very poignant. Abramova’s rich, nuanced singing convinced me that she is soon destined for much bigger roles. As usual, the Opera North Chorus impressed, with terrific ensemble singing and tightly choreographed action, and the orchestra was relentlessly on top form under conductor Garry Walker. What worked for Verdi and his librettist Piave, and with the play on which it is based, Victor Hugo's Le Roi s’amuse, can still work today. This Rigoletto is innovatory, provocative... and very connected to the modern world.

Two decades since its first outing, this is one of those productions so successful it will not go away. It was conceived and first directed for Opera North by Phyllida Lloyd, better known to the world at large as director of two of Britain’s highest ever grossing films, Mama Mia and The Iron Lady. Meryl Streep, who acted in both, has described her director as, “divine, sure and calm”.

Phyllida Lloyd is the innovative director who was responsible for this radical production in 1993, which still has plenty of sparkle in 2014, this time with Michael Barker-Caven as revival director. The timeless story of young love and tragedy works brilliantly in a 1950s Paris setting, and the references to the period are all witty and telling. Marcello begins as an action painter, pouring blood-red paint on to paper in Act I and producing Warhol-style multiple images of Mimì in Act IV, a motorcycle brings a leather-jacketed Marlon Brando to mind, and the set for the strikingly grimy, freezing flat where the bohemians live (designed by Anthony Ward) could have been built for a kitchen sink drama. There is a certain hint of Juliette Gréco in Mimì but her simple costumes are not confined to existentialist black: they reflect a scene's mood, with red for passionate love, of course. There are two casts for this production. I watched the first one in action.

“Yuriy Yurchuk, playing Rodolfo’s housemate Marcello, is perhaps the strongest presence on stage and, along with Emyr Wyn Jones’ Colline and Henry Neill as Schaunard, particularly in their playful start to the final act, add much needed comedy to what could otherwise feel a weighty evening.”

“Marcello (Yuriy Yurchuk) used his rich baritone to good effect and his acting was professional and convincing"

With The Little Greats season Opera North is revisiting the imaginative idea of presenting a programme of one-act operas which they first did with Eight Little Greats in 2004. This time six operas were presented in Leeds in flexible programmes, which tour in fixed double bills, with operas by Janacek, Ravel, Bernstein, Gilbert & Sullivan, Leoncavallo and Mascagni. For the weekend of 20-21 October 2017, we took the opportunity to catch all six operas performed over two days at the Grand Theatre, Leeds. On Friday 20 October we caught Janacek's Osud and Ravel's L'enfant et les sortileges, both directed by Annabel Arden and conducted by Martin Andre, sets by Charles Edwards and costumes by Hannah Clark. Janacek's Osud featured John Graham Hall as Zivny, Giselle Allen as Mila, Rosalind Plowright as Mila's mother, Peter Auty as Dr Suda, Richard Burkhard as Konecny, Ann Taylor as Miss Stuhla, Bryn Mashburn or Rafi Sherman as Doubek as a boy, and Warren Gillespie as Doubek as an adult.

Leonard Bernstein, composer and on this occasion lyricist too, knew precisely what he wanted for Trouble in Tahiti (1952). He listed his demands at the front of the score: simplicity of execution, clarity of diction, swift moving action and no pauses for scene changes. Opera North, in a stylish new production by Matthew Eberhardt, conducted by Tobias Ringborg, delivered exactly that, as part of the latest offering in the company’s Little Greats festival of short operas. Annabel Arden’s clear-as-possible production, handsomely designed in a 1930-40s setting by Charles Edwards, was blessed with fine principals. John Graham-Hall, a connoisseur of Janáček’s difficult, high-tenor roles, handled the challenging part of Živný elegantly, with Giselle Allen tender, obsessive and voluptuous as Míla, the muse-wife. Rosalind Plowright was luxury casting as Míla’s nightmare Mother. Christopher Nairne, a member of the chorus of Opera North, stood out in the cameo role of student Verva. Martin André, conducting, and the large ensemble cast and Opera North orchestra put the strongest case for this irresistible oddity.

This new production of Handel’s Alcina opens well, with no preamble, the protagonists’ arrival on the island inhabited by the titular sorceress suggested by footage of rushing water projected onto the backdrop. This is billed as Opera North’s first sustainable production, the costumes, furniture and props all second-hand. Designer Hannah Clark’s “Heaven on Earth” is little more than a patch of linoleum littered with scruffy office chairs and the characters are in modern dress, their mismatched outfits seemingly sourced from a charity shop. Thankfully, video designer William Galloway’s monochrome visuals are on hand to convey genuine wonder. Arboreal images evolve imperceptibly; blink, and you’re suddenly off the beach and deep in a forest, the density of the foliage neatly mirroring the confusion felt by the opera’s characters. Alcina 2So far, so good, but director Tim Albery’s frustrating, only fitfully engaging staging unwittingly suggests that less means less, not more. This applies to Handel’s score, too; conductor Laurence Cumming’s cuts (45 minutes of music and a subsidiary character have been removed) make the opera’s already labyrinthine plot even more baffling. I thought I’d done my prep and duly mugged up on the synopsis beforehand, but there are long stretches in Act One where following exactly what’s happening is a real challenge. Mari Askvik is an engaging Bradamente, disguised as her own brother and searching for her fiancé Ruggiero. Accompanied by mezzo Claire Pascoe’s Melissa (a role originally given to a bass), she soon discovers that Ruggiero now loves Alcina, and that Alcina’s sister Morgana (Fflur Wyn) has amorous designs upon her, thinking her to be "Ricciardo". Máire Flavin’s Alcina (pictured above right) is terrific, seductive and terrifying, her voice thrilling at when she lets rip. You wouldn’t dare cross her, and we never doubt that she’s capable of transforming Ruggiero into a wild animal when she shifts her attentions to Bradamante. As Ruggiero, counter-tenor Patrick Terry neatly conveys the vulnerability beneath his character’s macho bluster; we’re desperate for him to come to his senses and understand how much danger he’s in. Nick Pritchard’s Oronte, in love with Morgana and enraged that she’s now besotted with Bradamente, seethes and growls like a stroppy adolescent. The continual misunderstandings are the stuff of '70s sitcom and Albery’s direction, coupled with the drab décor, reinforces this. Alcina stageCummings draws colourful, energised playing from a pared-down orchestra. A pair of theorbos are nicely audible, and there’s some sterling work from flutes and horns. I’ll admit to closing my eyes at several points so as to concentrate purely on the show’s musical pleasures. Flavin excels in the final act, painfully aware that her powers are fading. Bradamante and Ruggiero are reconciled, along with Morgana and Oronte. But the close feels underwhelming, the characters’ relief that Alcina’s reign is over oddly muted. Good vocal performances make this production well worth seeing, but seek out an uncut recording for a better sense of Alcina’s magic.

Handel was rather fond of enchantresses; they pop up in his operas both early and late. It wasn’t the power per se that seems to have interested him but the ability it conferred for the character to be whatever she wanted to be. Sorcery, enchantment gave female characters agency so Handel’s enchantresses are always interesting and usually transgressive, ‘bad girls’ if you will. Alcina is one of Handel’s last enchantresses, and since the Handel opera revival of the early 20th century she has been on regular display. Tim Albery’s new production of Handel’s Alcina for Opera North opened at the Grand Theatre, Leeds on Saturday 5 February 2022 with Mari Askvik as Bradamante, Claire Pascoe as Melissa, Fflur Wyn as Morgana, Máire Flavin as Alcina, Patrick Terry as Ruggiero and Nick Pritchard as Oronte. Laurence Cummings conducted, designs were by Hannah Clark, lighting by Matthew Richardson and video by Ian William Galloway. Like most modern directors, Tim Albery was uninterested in Alcina’s magic for its own sake, there was none of the vivid theatrical display beloved by Handel’s contemporaries. Instead, this magic enables Alcina to live a life of isolated contentment, indulging herself as she pleases. A production of Alcina set in an oligarch’s luxury villa would, in many ways, work dramaturgically, though sometimes I do long for a production with the theatrical dazzle of the 18th century and an ending completely true to the libretto.Here we were in the realm of the imagination. The production is proudly sustainable, so the costumes were pre-loved, with 1950s and 1960s glamour a key theme, the women creating their own magic. At the opening there was a bare stage with just lighting rig and chairs (1960s style velour bucket seats), then as Melissa entered, the lighting rig raised up and the video started. This created the journey to Alcina’s island with its lush tropical vegetation, which made a big contrast with the velour chairs. But that is the idea; Alcina’s enclave is not at all natural. Though nothing was said explicitly, budget had clearly been a consideration. The cuts in the opera (and these are needed for this type of touring repertory production) removed the chorus, the dances and the character of Oberto. This had the effect of concentrating on Handel’s drama for the protagonists yet removed a key element of theatrical show present in the original. The ending had much of its magical dazzle removed (no urn with Alcina’s heart in it). Instead, Albery reverted to a pre-Handel version of the libretto, so Melisso, Bradamante’s tutor reverted to being Melissa, another enchantress, and it was her agency that brought about the end. Though Alcina’s power was gone, she did not die. Albery was most interested in the human drama, the upsets that occur to this perfect world with the advent of two disruptive elements (Bradamante and Melissa). The production style was fluid and action from one scene bled into another. In a way, it was quite a busy production but one with a clear sense of the dramaturgy and by the end of Part One (two thirds of the way through Act II) we were vividly gripped by the almost soap opera-like shenanigans. And it is soap opera, just write the plot down! But it is this sort of heightened emotionalism that enables Handel to probe his characters’ hearts as they go through extremes.Máire Flavin was a fascinating Alcina in 1960s film star glam mode, channelling Monica Viti or Rita Hayworth perhaps, one of the first images of her stalking across the stage was truly memorable. And it worked, there was something cool and seductive about her, and mysterious. And then as the glam failed, she fell to pieces big time. Alcina’s big Act II finale aria, 'Ombre pallide' (now opening Part Two) became almost a mad scene, powerful and intense, and throughout Part Two we watched her disintegrate, magnificently in a remarkable performance. As Morgana, Fflur Wyn (in her 22nd role for Opera North) was not so much a flirt as a free spirit, determined not to be confined. She incarnated that delightful yet dangerous changeableness that occurs in a number of Handel’s heroines, but Wyn also gave her an element of sadness too, the seeking and never finding. Her Act I finale showpiece, ‘Tornami a vagheggiar’ was brilliant but also touching with a sense of character. And Wyn was similarly touching as her world collapsed; her new love turns out to be a woman in disguise and her previous love is too wounded to allow a return of the status quo. It takes a lot of skill and technique to make this work. With Flavin, Wyn and all the cast we thought less about virtuosity and more about character because the singers were able to use their technical skill to create character. Tall and striking, Mari Askvik seems born to play Handel’s cross-dressing roles (Bradamante was written for Maria Caterina Negri, a contralto who specialised in travesty roles). Here, in a trouser suit and breast-plate with a Marcel wave blond bob, she created a striking and vivid images. In many ways there was a coolness about Askvik’s performance, something of the observer. She dealt with Morgana’s infatuation with amused tolerance, but it was not all plain sailing and the cool observer found herself drawn in, her lover torn between herself and Alcina, unable to leave.The role of Ruggiero was written for the mezzo-soprano castrato Giovanni Carestini, so it lies somewhat high for a counter-tenor. Once the sole preserve of female mezzo-sopranos, counter-tenors have more recently started to sing the role. It was clear that it sat high for Patrick Terry, but he used this to give a sense of otherworldly uncertainty to the character. He conveyed well the sense of Ruggiero being completely absorbed in Alcina’s enchantment. Even when the spell was a broken, it lingered so that the whole of Part Two was very much about the difficulty of letting go. He made ‘Verdi prati’ lingeringly beautiful, whilst ‘Sta nell’Ircana’ was fleet, light and vivid. Nick Pritchard’s Oronte was a decent man pushed to his limits by being in love with the wilful Morgana. His Act III aria when he breaks down was both a tour de force and profoundly moving. He also lost most of his clothes; it was that sort of production. Claire Pascoe’s Melissa didn’t have all that much to do but Pascoe (a member of the Opera North chorus) brilliantly suggested that she was the one who actually knew what was really going on, she radiated calm authority and her aria was full of character. In the pit, from the first notes of the overture it was clear that Laurence Cummings and the orchestra of Opera North meant business. This was a strong, characterful account of the score with plenty of theatrical pizzazz. Cummings directed from the harpsichord with a second instrument played by Asako Ogawa, plus two theorbo players (Alexander McCartney and Dorothy Linnell), so there was a thread of strong continuo running through the performance. And impressively, these were the only visitors, the remainder of the ensemble being the orchestra’s regular players. Ian William Galloway’s video very much set the tone for the performance; as the action became more complex we drew closer to the centre of the island and vegetation became lusher, and as Alcina’s power waned things became darker. A very modern take on the theatricality of Handel’s day.This was a production that engaged by the sheer sense of character engendered by the singers, drawing us into their world and making us care. A good indication of this was the way the long first part (nearly two of Handel’s acts) flew by. And with Laurence Cummings in charge in the pit there was plenty of style too.

Modern-set staging of the Georges Bizet classic stars Chrystal E Williams as a subtle and commanding lead

Why does Carmen make the choices she makes? That’s a question that the director Edward Dick seeks to answer in his new production of Bizet’s hit opera, marking the joyful return of Opera North to full stagings in Leeds Grand Theatre. It must be a relief to the company to open a production originally scheduled for January 2021, and again thrown into disarray only a week ago when a new Don José had to be cast after the singer Rafael Rojas fell prey to long Covid. So, the curtain finally rises on a smoky stage bathed in red light, a woman writhing with ostrich feather fans, the word “Girls” blown up in huge letters. Add the dancers with nipple tassels who appear in Lillas