LIKE a red rag to a bull, Wagner’s nautical traveller has provoked many concepts from opera directors. It was not an urge that Annabel Arden was able to resist, closely partnered by her designer Joanna Parker, in this new production.
Although sung in German, Act 1 opens in The Home Office, the government department responsible for processing those seeking asylum. Ocean views on a video during the overture have already conjured thoughts of desperate voyagers in tiny dinghies trying to cross the English Channel, so when we see a crowd of identically-suited bureaucrats, red-ribboned identity tags around their necks, buzzing busily against a backdrop of rapid-fire digital gobbledygook, it is all of a piece.
Myth and legend appear to have gone out of the window. Where is Daland’s boat, or the Dutchman’s for that matter? They never appear. Daland is the smug minister weathering the storms thrown into the path of the ship of state.
It is true that when the Dutchman’s vessel should be putting into port, a crane-load of nautical gear is lowered onto the central table, as if it were the dockside. Above this are two thin metal curtains, cut on an angle, which could well be interpreted as sails.
In truth, there has been some inkling of this twin-layered approach: before the overture, and at the start of the other two acts, the recorded voices of actual refugees speak in broken English of the trials they have endured on their way to this country.
These two strands, myth and modernity, are uneasy bedfellows throughout the evening. Alarm bells always ring when it takes several well-reasoned essays and interviews in a 50-page programme-book (not read by many of the punters, certainly not in advance) to explain and justify any departure from what the composer envisaged.
It is entirely possible that first-timers at Holländer find it all convincing or are simply not bothered; more experienced listeners will be at the very least bewildered. But that’s all part of the fun.
There are multiple compensations in the music. Music director Garry Walker seems to have stepped straight into the Wagnerian mantle he inherited from Richard Farnes. His strings are immediately on fire – one rapid run is positively spine-tingling – and there is steely determination in the brass calls.
But he also allows the score to breathe, which suits his principals admirably. Robert Hayward’s Dutchman cuts an androgynous figure on first appearance, long straggly hair, a necklace and seemingly a dress under his long cloak – until he opens his mouth and the full world-weariness flows such as no other baritone can match. His career in Leeds alone stretches back well over 30 years. He is still in imperious voice at the finish.
Clive Bayley, another familiar face in these parts, revels in taking off his ministerial role as Daland, injecting humour with subtle inflexions. Edgaras Montvidas doubles excellently as Erik and the Steersman, finding a Lied-style Sehnsucht in Erik’s Act 2 aria but a biting vitriol at Senta’s rejection.
Layla Claire was unable to sing on this opening night but acted an emotionally immature Senta prostrated by her infatuation with immense conviction. Mari Wyn Williams sang the role from the side with considerable charm, reserving extra heft for the dénouement. Molly Barker, stepping up from the chorus, makes her mark as Mary.
The final showdown between the two crews takes place at a civil-service shindig with the Dutchman behind the bar at first, before he climbs onto it for his peroration. But the chorus is so thrilling there is no need to reason why.
Review by Martin Dreyer, 1/2/2025
Further performances in Leeds until February 21, then on tour until March 28, full details at www.operanorth.co.uk. Leeds box office: 0113 243 0808 or leedsheritagetheatres.com.
Going tonight but all I’m looking forward to is the music.