REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on Opera North in Susanna, Leeds Grand Theatre, October 22

Anna Dennis as Susanna with Yasmina Patel from Phoenix Dance Theatre in Opera North’s Susanna. Picture: Tristram Kenton

HANDEL’S Susanna, billed as oratorio, might have been an opera but the Bishop of London banned staged performances of biblical topics not long before it was premiered in 1749.

Winton Dean even called it “an opera of English village life, and a comic opera at that”. Few these days would agree with him, given its tale of thwarted would-be abusers accusing their prey of adultery.

The story comes from ancient Greek sources via the Book of Daniel, where it is known as Susanna and the Elders. It’s not a comfortable topic but Opera North has never shied away from difficult issues.

Here that included its fourth collaboration with Leeds-based Phoenix Dance Theatre, adding a choreographic element not immediately evident in the anonymous libretto. That would seem to play into the hands of Dean’s vision of a pastoral idyll. In fact, Olivia Fuchs’s production, with choreography by Marcus Jarrell Willis, could hardly have treated such a serious theme with greater reverence.

Zahra Mansouri’s gantry set and modern costumes in pastel shades kept the focus firmly on the drama, with Jake Wiltshire’s lighting a constant ally.

Anna Dennis inhabited the title role to her fingertips. Her glorious tone gave life and substance not merely to Susanna’s happy marriage but to her painful trials, so that we felt every ounce of her desperation when she was falsely accused.

‘Crystal streams’ was sinuously luxuriant, while defiance was tangible in her final aria, as the Elders had their comeuppance, one debagged, the other receiving a painful kick. It was a sensational performance, riveting throughout.

Although given much less to do, James Hall as her husband Joacim was noble in support, with stunningly clear coloratura to match. Both ornamented their da capos appealingly.

Claire Lees as the young prophet Daniel – a role originally allotted to a treble – overcame the handicap of a comically androgynous costume to deliver a shining denouement with her ‘Chastity’ aria.

Fuchs resisted the temptation to make the Elders figures of fun: tenor Colin Judson and bass Karl Huml were well contrasted in both stature and temperament, the one with oily refinement, the other more impatient for conquest. Matthew Brook was firmly reliable as Chelsias, Susanna’s father.

The chorus was as forceful as ever and made more relevant with smaller gestures that chimed with the dance.

Handel provided an original overture, unusually devoid of borrowings, and the orchestra under Johanna Soller, conducting from the harpsichord, gave it fresh, enthusiastic treatment, with cleanly muscular lines in its fugue.

This set the tone for the evening, as the players gave every indication of knowing exactly what was required for a ‘period’ sound, not something you can expect from an opera orchestra. It led gracefully into perhaps the work’s greatest chorus, ‘How long, O Lord’, with the Israelites moping about their oppression – which is otherwise almost completely irrelevant to the story.

This was the first occasion where the choreography helped, with the writhings of the nine dancers enlivening an otherwise static scenario. This proved a telling feature throughout, particularly effective when the dancers acted in consort, thus reflecting the lines of the music.

At the other extreme, modern dance movements sometimes jarred with the Baroque underlay. When solo dancers acted as alter ego to a character delivering an aria, it added emotional depth; when they attempted to share too closely in the lovers’ idyll, for example, by providing an extra ring of embrace, it was intrusive, an invasion of personal space in modern parlance.

However, the continued collaboration between the two companies has undoubtedly benefited both, not least in broadening the limitations of each art form. We do well to remember that dance was regularly a component of opera from earliest times. The two need each other.

Review by Martin Dreyer

REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on Opera North in The Magic Flute, Leeds Grand Theatre, September 28

Opera North in James Brining’s revival of The Magic Flute. Picture: Tristram Kenton

FOR the start of her first full year as general director, Laura Canning is presiding over an autumn of three revivals, of which this production by James Brining is the first.

Doubtless she had no say in the schedule, but it still looks cautious, especially when viewed in the wake of, for example, Buxton Festival’s five new productions this summer.

Brining operates as artistic director of Leeds Playhouse, just a short walk away from the Grand Theatre, and this had been his first full operatic production. It still shows signs of over-calculation.

Before the curtain we are treated to a welcome designed to embrace newcomers. Old-stagers might have regarded it as patronising but, seen alongside a bare-bones outline in the programme of what constitutes opera in the first place, it is arguably a useful introduction to an artform that too many have found intimidating: an attempt to cast the audience net more widely, in other words.

This process must be treated gingerly, however, if the company’s core audience is not to be deterred. The overture is intended as an introduction, presenting themes and building anticipation.

All of that is dissipated when it is overlaid with a dumb show, based on Bergman’s cinematic view of the whole work being a child’s dream/nightmare, that has little or nothing to do with Mozart. So, overture and dumb show are at odds with one another: in our screen-obsessed age, the eyes take over and the overture goes for naught.

As it was, Christoph Koncz, making his Leeds debut, opened the overture very slowly and followed with an extremely rapid allegro, which the orchestra – now under its new leader Katie Stillman – handled with panache. Thereafter Koncz impresses with the transparency of the textures he conjures.

Egor Zhuravskii has graduated from Fenton in Falstaff to Tamino here, and does so smoothly enough. Narrow at the start, his tone opens out over time but remains a little dry, albeit stylish. There is not much genuine feeling between him and Claire Lees’s admirable Pamina, but she entrances with every appearance and sounds ready for greater things.

Leaning heavily on his Welsh lilt, Emyr Wyn Jones makes an affable dunderhead of Papageno, almost taking the pantomime route, while Anna Dennis makes an imposing Queen of Night, edgy, determined and accurate.

Msimelelo Mbali, as Sarastro, lacks the gravitas shown by Andri Björn Robertsson’s Speaker, but his bass grows in authority in Act 2. Colin Judson offers an apt irritant as Monostatos, in place of the repellent figure we had last time.

Pasquale Orchard makes a charming Papagena, although she is introduced to Papageno early and deprived of her ‘old lady’ disguise. Many of the lesser roles are ably assumed by members of the chorus, proving its versatility.

Colin Richmond’s flexible set proves its worth once again, as does Douglas O’Connell’s high-impact video effects.

Brining envisaged Blakean poles of innocence and experience. He might instead have allowed Mozart and Schikaneder – in Jeremy Sams’s colloquial translation – to speak for themselves. The plot is complicated enough as it is.

Review by Martin Dreyer

Performances: Leeds Grand Theatre, February 12, 13, 15 and 22 2025, 7pm. Box office: 0113 243 0808 or leedsheritagetheatres.com. Hull New Theatre, March 27 and 29 2025, 7pm. Box office: hulltheatres.co.uk.