Olivia Turner’s Rosalinda and Ian Thomson-Smith’s Falke in York Opera’s Die Fledermaus. Picture: David Kessel
BREAK out the champagne! York Opera celebrates its 60th anniversary, no less, with this sizzling production of Johann Strauss II’s comic operetta.
Co-directed by two stalwarts of the company, John Soper and Liz Watson, this Die Fledermaus lives up to the work’s reputation as the Viennese operetta par excellence.
Inevitably that starts with the orchestra, who set the style and tone in the overture, here mercifully done without gimmicky mime. So we can concentrate fully on Edward Venn’s excellent control of the orchestra.
Not only are the many tempo changes smoothly negotiated, so are the little hesitations on the upbeats, so characteristic of Viennese style. Throughout the evening, the orchestral underlay is impeccably geared to the singing.
Two soprano principal roles are double-cast, reflecting their difficulty and intensity. Both are carried with confidence. LaLa Marais brings panache and brilliance to her coloratura as Adele, notably in her ‘laughter’ aria, and matches it ideally with a high-spirited personality.
With equally sparkling charm, Olivia Turner, also making her company debut, gives a fiery bite to her Rosalinda, triumphing in her csárdás as the masked Hungarian countess. Their alternates, tonight and on Saturday afternoon, are Stephanie Wong and Alexandra Mather respectively.
Hamish Brown brings a happy-go-lucky charisma to his Eisenstein, while succumbing with pseudo-protestation to the wiles of his friend Doctor Falke (the original ‘bat’ of the title). His franglais routines with prison governor Frank, as both pretend to be French, are comic highlights.
Mark Simmonds makes an amiable Frank, alias Chevalier Chagrin. Ian Thomson-Smith’s light baritone is well geared to Falke, as he becomes the amiable puppeteer of the proceedings.
Molly Raine glides through the trouser role of Prince Orlofsky, cigarette holder poised, and gets the champagne flowing effortlessly at his party. Alex Holland conjures a nicely bumbling buffo as Eisenstein’s lawyer, Blind. Karl Reiff’s tenor is underused in the role of Alfredo, but he does much with little in the opening scene.
Act 3 can easily pall, but John Soper’s antics as sozzled jailer Frosch keep the laughter rolling. Cameo roles consistently make their mark.
The chorus is everywhere disciplined and confident, developing a healthy blend, even if it is required to do rather less dancing than we might have expected; indeed, no choreographer is mentioned.
It is much to the company’s credit that it has made almost all its own costumes and sets over the years, doubtless one reason for its financial stability. John Soper’s sets are evocative without showiness – the prison windows are impressive – and Maggie Soper’s colourful costumes enhance the party atmosphere.
We are fortunate to have a company of this calibre in our midst: it deserves our warmest support.
Here’s to its next 60 years. Break out the champagne indeed!
Review by Martin Dreyer