David Greed: Former Orchestra of Opera North leader and York Guildhall Orchestra guest soloist for Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto. Picture: Opera North
THERE was a distinct start-of-term feeling about this fixture, in which Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto and Elgar’s First Symphony were preceded by a Dvorak concert overture.
It was refreshing to see several new, youthful faces in the orchestra, which was conducted by its musical director Simon Wright. But the advent of new blood, however welcome, inevitably carries an element of adjustment as compensation is made for retirees and incomers find their feet.
This may help to explain the tentative air about Dvorak’s In Nature’s Realm, where the strings initially lacked focus. But the composer’s orchestration increasingly gained in colour and the work finished confidently.
David Greed retired last summer after a mighty 44 years as leader of the Orchestra of Opera North, but thankfully has resisted reaching for the carpet slippers, continuing to freelance widely. As soloist in Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto, he made an immediate impression with the sweetness of his upper range.
There was a rallentando into the second theme and an even bigger one before the cadenza, where he really let the music breathe rather than dazzle with mere virtuosity. The slow movement was an intimate affair at first, which made for a bigger contrast when the agitated central section arrived. When the opening returned, Greed was back to sharing quiet confidences with his audience, allowing us to wallow in Mendelssohn’s luscious melody.
David Greed: “Let the music breathe rather than dazzle with mere virtuosity”. Picture: Opera North
The bridge passage into the final rondo was beautifully elongated, keeping us tantalised with expectation. When the Allegro at last arrived it had all the flair and brilliance that the score implies, with Wright maintaining a strongly rhythmic backing to the soloist’s rapid figurations.
The coda was even more dazzling. But Greed was always at the service of the music rather than imposing his personality upon it showily, a refreshing and ultimately satisfying approach.
Elgar’s Symphony No 1 in A flat carries his favourite marking of nobilmente over its motto theme, but apart from the brass here, it was less than noble at first. But there was plenty of vivacity in the Allegro when it came and a nicely contrasting hush with the recall of its opening. What really impressed was the neatly controlled inner detail. Brass provided fire whenever needed.
The scherzo was exciting right from the start, with real precision from the strings and no let-up on the journey into the march-like second theme. Much tender phrasing infused the slow movement, particularly in the outer strings; there was an achingly elegiac feel to its closing pages.
Wright handled the transition into the last movement’s Allegro beautifully, where the main statement was superbly bold. The motto theme emerged more strongly than ever, symbolising the orchestra’s gradual resurgence throughout the evening. Things are shaping up nicely, not only for this season but well beyond.
Henry Waddington as Falstaff and Louise Winter as Mistress Quickly in Opera North’s Falstaff. All pictures: Richard H Smith
IT is exactly 400 years since the publication of the First Folio of Shakespeare’s complete works, which included The Merry Wives Of Windsor. Sir John Falstaff is its principal character, but his name does not appear in the title.
Olivia Fuchs must surely have noticed this in her new production of Verdi’s comedy, which deservedly gives plentiful attention to the wives.
Here it is the opening salvo in Opera North’s Green Season, in which its three productions are sharing scenic elements, with all sets and costumes sourced from current stock and previous productions or bought second-hand.
Kate Royal as Alice Ford, Louise Winter as Mistress Quickly, Helen Évora as Meg Page and Isabelle Peters as Nannetta
Principal among the purchases is a weathered, open-sided 1970s caravan, which serves as Falstaff’s HQ for his intrigues against the bourgeois ladies of Windsor. Down on his uppers and sporting braces and shorts over his sweaty T-shirt, he is the epitome of trailer trash. Thus the need for period costumes is neatly side-stepped, while bringing the whole comedy much nearer home: surely a victory for both ecology and economy.
But the engine-room of this sparkling evening is Garry Walker’s orchestra. Anyone who can wrest their attention away from the hi-jinks on stage will find it hard to keep a smile off their face at what is going on in the pit.
If there is more stress on the first word of commedia lirica than on the second, it is entirely in keeping with Fuchs’s vision. For humour underlies Walker’s every gesture. It is not just that his orchestra is light on its toes, it is attuned to the finest detail of Verdi’s orchestration: the dancing woodwinds, the taut trills, the caustic brass, all are calculated to enhance the text, in this case Amanda Holden’s wise and witty translation, also seen in side-titles.
Colin Judson as Bardolph, Paul Nilon as Dr Caius, Dean Robinson as Pistol, Richard Burkhard as Ford and Egor Zhuravskii as Fenton
The moment that encapsulates every aspect of the show is when Falstaff breaks into a gleeful caper on exclaiming “Alice is mine!”. Here laughter, choreography, song, orchestra are one, a magical moment.
Rarely have instruments sounded so comical, as Verdi – letting his hair down in his 80th year – throws caution to the winds. Walker deserves gratitude for reminding us of this so vividly, and with immaculate pacing into the bargain.
While we laugh at this Falstaff, we never lose sympathy for him. As he lumbers out with his ghetto blaster in Act 2, preparing for conquest, or wanders expectantly into the wood in Act 3, Henry Waddington’s corpulent blunderer is never an object of mere derision. So that when he changes his tune at the finale and joins in the general rejoicing, it rings true – as if we have been watching a play within a play.
Tennis courting: Egor Zhuravskii as Fenton and Isabelle Peters as Nannetta
Waddington’s baritone is in excellent trim, relishing the arioso nuances of the role with exemplary diction. He has made many memorable appearances with this company, but this is surely his finest hour in Leeds.
He is admirably matched by Kate Royal’s Mistress Alice, not least through her comic timing in dialogue. But her soprano is wonderfully flexible too. As her husband Ford, James Davies stepped out of the chorus on this occasion to replace the indisposed Richard Burkhard and did so with distinction. He warmed into the role smoothly and resonantly, as if he had always been part of the front line – and deserved the cast applause at the final curtain.
There is no lack of quality in the lesser roles. Helen Évora’s charm ensures she makes the most of Mistress Meg and Louise Winter’s seen-it-all-before Mistress Quickly is a perfect piece of casting.
Kate Royal as Alice Ford and Henry Waddington as Falstaff
As the only “serious” lovers, Nannetta and Fenton, Isabelle Peters and Egor Zhuravskii are well blended, she flighty and innocent, he eager in his high tessitura, reminiscent indeed of Paul Nilon in his younger days – who here brings a cutting edge to Doctor Caius. Colin Judson and Dean Robinson offer a neat combination of bafflement and bravado as Bardolph and Pistol. The chorus is as disciplined as ever.
It is hard to judge just how green this production is. Suffice to say that the ‘tree’ of real antlers in Act 3, shed naturally by the herd at Harewood House, is an impressive assemblage. Nature will provide. But it is a tribute not only to Fuchs, but also to Leslie Travers’ set and Gabrielle Dalton’s costumes that the evening coheres so beautifully despite the environmental economies. Green is not necessarily mean.
Further performances in Leeds until October 25, then on tour until November 18. Leeds box office: 0113 243 0808 or leedsheritagetheatres.com.
Review by Martin Dreyer, October 5
Richard Burkhard as Ford, Henry Waddington as Falstaff and Kate Royal as Alice Ford with members of the Chorus of Opera Northand a ‘tree’ of antlers, shed naturally by the Harewood House deer herd
Opera North in The Pearl Fishers (Les Pȇcheurs de Perles). Picture: James Glossop
IT has been well over 30 years since Opera North looked at Bizet’s youthful stab at orientalism, The Pearl Fishers. But in that time orientalism has acquired some of the negative taints of colonialism, with claims made in the programme that Bizet’s attempts at exoticism sound dissonant to modern ears because he was not properly acquainted with Asian music.
It is doubtful if that thought would have even flitted into the minds of the Leeds – or any other –audience. Nowhere is credence given to the idea that the composer was not trying to be authentic, merely conjuring atmosphere as understood in his own day and still largely so now.
The mere fact that there is felt to be a need for such an apologia is an instant red flag that there might be a ‘concept’ lurking. Productions should be able to speak for themselves.
At this time of year, the company has customarily offered a concert staging in Leeds Town Hall. With that venue undergoing major refurbishment, a full staging at home base was the obvious fall-back, but all the touring dates are due to be only concert performances.
This is relevant since what we get is a very static production from Matthew Eberhardt, with little hint of context in Joanna Parker’s costumes.
Principals apart, it is hard to tell whether the chorus are supposed to be fisher-folk or Brahmins, since they are clad in black suits and dresses, very much like westerners. They are even to be found seated in chairs along the edges of the stage. So it is very close to a concert performance.
The only costume to make any impact is Nourabad’s rather jumbled salt-caked coat-tails, more like the Old Man of the Sea than a high priest.
Parker’s set is dominated by a central totem of tangled fishing ropes stretching up the ceiling. This appears to serve for an altar and is twice partially climbed by Leïla. Otherwise, the stage is littered with enlarged pearls of various sizes up to two metres in diameter. These mainly vanish in Act 3, allowing the chorus easier passage, though some larger ones are to be seen hanging in nets overhead.
Peter Mumford’s lighting is predominantly gloomy, most of the light coming from slender on-stage spots, which enliven the action but regularly leave faces in partial shadow. There is a continual video backdrop of waves in moonlight co-designed by him and Parker; it does not change even when the chorus sing of blue skies and calm sea. But we could have been anywhere, Mexico (as originally intended), Ceylon – or even Lowestoft.
There are compensations in the music. Quirijn de Lang, a welcome and regular visitor here, has rarely sounded as resonant as he does as Zurga, right from the start. He commands the stage. But he reins back for the big duet with Nico Darmanin’s Nadir, who had not quite reached full throttle at that point on this opening night. Nadir’s later anger is convincing enough and he partners Leïla sensitively.
Sophia Theodorides, making her house debut, is a confident Leïla, her ornamentation clear and her emotions tangible. Joseph Creswell makes a stentorian Nourabad, a powerful presence.
The chorus is certainly forceful, if not quite up to its usual blend. Matthew Kofi Waldren keeps them and his orchestra attentive, and alive to the nuances of Bizet’s orchestration. But this production would have been better billed as a concert staging. What we get is a half-way house that will have pleased few.
Review by Martin Dreyer
Further Leeds performances on May 25, 27, 31 & June 2, then touring (concert performances) toManchester, Gateshead, Hull City Hall (June 24, 7pm)and Nottingham until July 1. www.operanorth.co.uk. Leeds box office: leedsheritagetheatres.com; Hull, hulltheatres.co.uk
REVIEW: Martin Dreyer’s verdict on Opera North in Requiem: Journeys Of The Soul, Leeds Grand Theatre, May 30
Emile Petersen, Aaron Chaplin and Rian Jansen with tenor soloist Mongezi Mosoaka in Mozart’s Requiem. Picture: Richard H Smith
IT’S an ill wind…some good may have come out of Covid. Music of mourning requires an outcome for the living: a vision of the hereafter, perhaps, but certainly closure or catharsis. Mozart’s Requiem and Neo Muyanga’s After Tears: After A Requiem combines the talents of Opera North and fellow Leeds company Phoenix Dance Theatre with South Africa’s Jazzart Dance Theatre and Cape Town Opera.
The vital link between the two is Dane Hurst, who has links with both dance companies; he choreographs and directs this double bill, inspired by personal loss during the pandemic.
Dance was always a feature of early Christian worship and remains so in less inhibited cultures than our own, so the idea of a balletic requiem is perhaps not as radical as it may at first seem.
The ‘After Tears’ is a relatively new tradition espoused by younger generations in South African townships and equates somewhat to a wake, whereby the blues of mourning are submerged in loud, dance music.
Simplistically, South African composer Muyanga’s new response piece picks up where Mozart leaves off. Hurst’s choreography keeps closely to the music. In the Mozart, it is immediately engrossing, not least because the soloists and chorus are constantly in physical touch with the dancers, offering sympathy and consolation.
The Dies Irae sees a frenetic outpouring from both chorus and dancers, the latter writhing in agonies of what appears to be self-recrimination. In contrast, for example, the Benedictus offers cool balm to the troubled.
Dancers from Phoenix Dance Theatre and Jazzart Dance Theatre with the Chorus of Opera North in Opera North’s production of Neo Muyanga’sAfter Tears: After A Requiem. Picture: Tristram Kenton
The sheer energy of the dancing is a marvel, quite stunning. It is invigorated by a chorus that is equally on fire; the two forces clearly inspire one another.
Underpinning them is Garry Walker’s orchestra, ablaze with rhythmic fervour that can only be an inspiration to the dancers. The solo quartet – Ellie Laugharne, Ann Taylor, Mongezi Mosoaka and Simon Shibambu – blend superbly but are individually distinctive when need be. Shibambu’s stentorian bass is ideal in the Tuba Mirum.
Joanna Parker’s thin black wooden shards remain dangling overhead for After Tears, where Muyanga’s score initially lays emphasis on percussive effects. His melodic instincts are relatively subdued and tend towards minimalism as the piece progresses.
Between two main sections is a moment of ritual reflection involving a priestly figure who chants in African dialect and invokes the spirit of Fire. This is a welcome oasis of calm amid otherwise frantic activity, in which the 16 dancers now shriek with joy.
There is a sense in which the ritual aspect of this dancing evokes the atmosphere of Stravinsky’s Rite Of Spring, even though the music is less challenging. But the evening also offers an electrifying opportunity to re-evaluate our attitudes to death and mourning and discover the silver lining they canoffer. As an example of cross-cultural fertilisation, it tops the charts.
Review by Martin Dreyer
The final performance of Requiem: Journeys Of The Soul at Leeds Grand Theatre are on Saturday (3/6/2023) at 7pm and Sunday (4/6/2023) at 2.30pm. The production was co-commissioned by Leeds 2023 Year of Culture. Box office: 0113 243 0808 or leedsheritagetheatres.com
Elizabeth Llewellyn: Bringing her radiant soprano to more intimate surroundings
HARD on the heels of her triumphant Opera North run in the title role of Ariadne auf Naxos, Elizabeth Llewellyn brought her radiant soprano to more intimate surroundings in a recital celebrating the late Dr Keith Howard, the most generous benefactor in Opera North’s history. Simon Lepper’s piano was her deft partner.
Her programme was an eclectic mix of Verdi and Puccini songs that played to her operatic strengths, lieder of Brahms and Strauss, and songs by two English composers, Coleridge-Taylor and Stanford.
Llewellyn’s debut recording, Heart And Hereafter in 2021, was devoted to songs by Coleridge-Taylor, eight of which she offered here, opening each half of the evening with them. She clearly has a special feel for this music. The best of three from 1896 was a setting of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet Tears, an intimate view of grief.
Even more affecting were four settings of Christina Rossetti from Sorrow Songs, Op 57 (1904), with a passionate “Let me be” in Oh What Comes Over The Sea?.
There is often a touch of Brahms in the music of Stanford, Coleridge-Taylor’s teacher, even when he is trying to be Irish, as in A Sheaf Of Songs From Leinster. Llewellyn gave a spirited account of The Bold Unbiddable Child. In three lieder by Brahms himself, she tried to keep her tone intimate and succeeded best with Auf dem Kirchhofe (In The churchyard), with its telling rhymes, ‘Gewesen’ (deceased) and ‘Genesen’ (released).
She was wise to keep her Italian songs and her Strauss to the end of each half: they allowed her to open out her naturally rich tone. She found it easy to convey the adoration of Du Meines Herzens Krönelein (You My Heart’s Little Crown) and the rapture of the evergreen Ständchen (Serenade). They also allowed Lepper to break out more and he took full advantage of Strauss’s lush accompaniments, highlighting pianistic details.
Llewellyn’s Italian projection was even smoother still. The lullaby Sogno d’or (Sweet Dream, 1912) reappeared in the opera La Rondine; she covered her tone beautifully at its close. She cleverly paired it with another ‘ninna-nanna’ (lullaby), E l’uccellino, an amusing little bird. The remainder of the Puccini songs were stand-alone numbers, which rarely get a recital airing.
In three Verdi songs at the close, she really cut loose, finishing with a vivaciously carefree gypsy girl in La Zingara. As she spends more time in recital halls, she will perhaps not feel the need to fall back on operatic styles so much and she will tailor the intimate side of her tone accordingly.
She has all the charm and charisma you could ask for. For the time being, however, she will do herself – and her audiences – an immense favour by dispensing with her music stand and learning the songs as she would an operatic role. Only then will she establish that direct communication with her listeners that is so crucial to the full success of a song recital.
Review by Martin Dreyer
Elizabeth Llewellyn & Simon Lepper’s CD of songs by Coleridge-Taylor is on Orchid Classics ORC 100164.
Henry Filloux-Bennett: New executive director at Opera North. Picture: Samantha Toolsie
HENRY Filloux-Bennett is leaving HOME to be the new executive director at Opera North in Leeds from May 2023.
“I’m thrilled to be joining the team at Opera North,” he says. “Having had a long connection with the company, from first seeing them at the Theatre Royal and Concert Hall in Nottingham to then working with them at The Lowry in Salford, and more recently at the Lawrence Batley Theatre in Huddersfield, the prospect of joining as executive director at this really exciting – but also challenging – time is one I absolutely relish.”
Filloux-Bennett, who turned 40 last month, is at present executive director and deputy chief executive officer of HOME, the arts centre, cinema, theatre and gallery complex in Manchester. Previously, he was chief executive and artistic director of the Lawrence Batley Theatre; before that, head of marketing at The Lowry; earlier, head of marketing and communications at Nottingham Playhouse.
Filloux-Bennett also has worked as a producer and general manager for organisations such as the Royal Shakespeare Company, Theatre Royal Haymarket and Bill Kenwright Ltd.
As an author and playwright, he wrote the award-winning Nigel Slater’s Toast, commissioned by The Lowry and subsequently transferred to the Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, The Other Place in London, plus a UK tour.
In 2020, his stage version of What A Carve Up!, based on Jonathan Coe’s novel, was chosen as one of the Guardian’s Top 10 theatre shows and the Telegraph’s Top 50 Cultural Events of the year.
In Covid-shrouded 2021, he adapted Oscar Wilde’s The Picture Of Dorian Gray, starring Fionn Whitehead and Joanna Lumley in a digital production for Barn Theatre/Lawrence Batley Theatre that was seen in more than 70 countries.
Opera North general manager Richard Mantle, left, with new executive director Henry Filloux-Bennett. Picture: Samantha Toolsie
He then co-wrote the original screenplay Going The Distance, starring Sarah Hadland, Shobna Gulati and Matthew Kelly in a digital comedy co-produced by the Lawrence Batley Theatre, Oxford Playhouse, The Dukes, Lancaster, and Watermill Theatre, Newbury.
Opera North’s general manager, Richard Mantle, says: “I am delighted to announce that Henry Filloux-Bennett has been appointed as our new executive director, joining the company in May 2023. He brings with him a wealth of experience through his theatre career and as a writer.
“This is a pivotal moment in the history of Opera North as we develop our strategic priorities and re-build our way out of the impact of the pandemic and the current cost-of-living crisis.
“Henry will be a key part of the leadership of Opera North into the future, bringing with him significant experience of business planning, budgetary and financial forecasting, programming, stakeholder management, commercial strategies and food and beverage hospitality. I am thrilled to be able to welcome Henry to the Opera North team and look forward to our collaboration as colleagues.”
Opera North, a national opera company based in Leeds since 1977, tours opera and musical theatre to theatres and concert halls across the north of England, including regular appearances in Leeds, Greater Manchester, Newcastle/Gateshead, Nottingham and Hull.
The company’s wide-ranging education and community partnerships work brings music and performance into the lives of communities across the region.
Opera North also operates and programmes the Howard Assembly Room, a 300-seat performance venue within the Leeds Grand Theatre building that offers an eclectic programme of world music, jazz and folk, classical, talks, film screenings and family events.
Opera North’s new restaurant and bar, Kino, opened last year on New Briggate, adjacent to the Howard Assembly Room and Grand Theatre.
Hanna Hipp: “Firm, intense” as Composer in Opera North’sAriadne auf Naxos. All pictures: Richard H Smith
Ariadne auf Naxos, Opera North/Gothenburg Opera, Leeds Grand Theatre. Further performances on February 21, 24 and March 1, all at 7pm, then touring until March 24. Leeds box office: 0113 243 0808 or leedsheritagetheatres.com.
HUGO von Hofmannsthal avowedly based his libretto for Ariadne on the idea of Verwandlung, transformation.
Rodula Gaitanou’s ingenious scenario for this co-production with Gothenburg Opera, first seen there exactly five years ago, takes transformation a stage further, relocating the action from nouveau-riche Vienna in the 1910s to Fellini’s Rome of the 1950s, specifically the Cinecittà film studios.
George Souglides’s equally clever set and costumes underline the conceit by virtually duplicating the harlequinade costumes from Fellini’s 8 1⁄2.
Elizabeth Llewellyn’s Prima Donna. “Had to lie on a ten-metre high granite rock, which looked extremely uncomfortable”
The Prologue bustles with pre-cinematic activity, much of it mimed in hilarious detail behind the rantings of the Major-Domo and the Music-Master. So, we have electrician, light operator, make-up artist, painter, paparazzo and cameraman busying themselves alongside a group of sponsors – all named in the programme.
John Savournin’s no-nonsense Major-Domo rules this roost, rocking back Dean Robinson’s pleading Music-Master and Daniel Norman’s fretful Dancing-Master at every turn. Only Hanna Hipp’s firm, intense Composer offers him serious resistance, impassioned in her aria but soothed into reluctant acceptance of the new order by Zerbinetta’s attentions.
This might have been the last we would see of the Composer. But Gaitanou brings him back for the Opera, where he is a spectator throughout, even bringing realism to Zerbinetta’s emotional tug-of-love between him (her new ‘god’) and her old flame Harlequin.
Jennifer France’s flibbertigibbet of a Zerbinetta turns out to be the fulcrum around which the evening revolves. This owes much to her effervescence, but was partly caused by both the Tenor/Bacchus and the Prima Donna/Ariadne having missed the dress rehearsal for vocal reasons, although no apologies were offered on this opening night. They weathered the Prologue without distress, but for one of them (Ric Furman) the Opera proved a bridge too far.
Ric Furman as Bacchus, Elizabeth Llewellyn as Ariadne, with Amy Freston as Echo, Laura Kelly-McInroy as Dryad and Daisy Brown as Naiad
Nothing, however, should detract from France’s splendid evening. Having blended easily with her comic troupe before the interval, she has plenty in reserve for a tour de force of coloratura in the Opera, managing more than a hint of self-parody at the same time, while in almost perpetual motion. It is riveting.
Here, too, Elizabeth Llewellyn in the title role comes into her own. She was clearly in excellent voice for her initial aria, which was smoothly controlled, no mean feat given that she had to lie on a ten-metre high granite rock, which looked extremely uncomfortable. In duet with Bacchus, she convincingly negotiated the moments of doubt about his true personality before launching into glorious tone when the love-duet finally flowered, her upper middle range particularly gleaming.
Sadly, Ric Furman’s Bacchus was unable to match her. Clearly still suffering, his tenor sounded threadbare in comparison. Presumably distracted by his vocal difficulties, he also acted as if still in doubt about any hook-up with Ariadne, even at the close.
They finished the evening upstage watching the fireworks promised by the unnamed film director, reminding us of the play within a play, as did the cameramen who were present throughout.
Dominic Sedgwick as Harlequin, Adrian Dwyer as Brighella, John Savournin as Truffaldino and Alex Banfield as Scaramuccio
The evening has many other good things to offer, not least the slim-line orchestra under Antony Hermus. He is in his element in the Prologue, bringing a Mozartian jollity to Strauss’s lyrical riches. Yet he also conjures a tender intimacy from the chamber music opening of the Opera overture and velvety horn obbligato for Ariadne’s first aria, before unleashing a boisterous but disciplined finale.
The commedia dell’arte quartet manoeuvres wittily, ably led by Dominic Sedgwick’s Harlequin and Savournin’s Truffaldino. It is also a treat to have three such willowy nymphs – Daisy Brown, Laura Kelly-McInroy and Amy Freston – blending and capering alluringly, even if their constant arm-flapping, presumably suggestive of swimming, outstays its welcome. Victoria Newlyn is the otherwise engaging choreographer.
The Prologue is sung in English (translated by Christopher Cowell), Italian and German, mimicking the polyglot casts of international opera; German is used in the Opera, with English side-titles throughout. Gaitanou must have micro-directed this multi-talented cast. With Zerbinetta leading the way, Hofmannsthal’s transformation could hardly be more persuasive.
Stefanos Dimoulas as Dragonfly in Opera North’s The Cunning Little Vixen. Picture: Tristram Kenton
LEOS Janáček’s fairy-tale must be the greenest opera in the repertory, and not only ecologically. It remains fresh.
Equally evergreen is David Pountney’s production, whose origins lie as far back as the Edinburgh International Festival of 1980. It reached Leeds in 1984, the 60th anniversary of this piece.
Happily Pountney, now Sir David, is still around to cast an eye over this revival, although Elaine Tyler-Hall is his associate on the ground. She also resuscitates the original choreography of Stuart Hopps.
The other genius of the founding triumvirate is the late Maria Björnson, her sets and costumes a constant reminder of her supremely imaginative talents.
The rolling hills and downs of the countryside in this multi-purpose set pull back to provide the Forester’s farmyard, the tavern or the foxes’ den. The encroaching forest is cleverly evoked by overhanging branches downstage, in which birds sit screened in rocking-chairs. The ‘melting’ of the icesheets drew a spontaneous round of applause on this occasion.
Elin Pritchard’s lively Vixen Sharp-Ears wins hearts at once with her zest for life, not to say liberation. But it is combined with a youthful innocence in her tone. She and her Fox, Heather Lowe, complement each other ideally in their love-duet, the latter’s extra chest resonance supplying a touch of machismo.
Another mainstay is James Rutherford’s avuncular Forester, underpinning the link with the animal kingdom, a true countryman. Suitably disgruntled as his drinking companions are Paul Nilon’s rueful Schoolmaster and Henry Waddington’s maudlin Parson, each finely drawn.
Callum Thorpe’s vagabond poacher Harašta always carries menace. He freezes in his stance for some time after shooting Vixen, diluting the shock of the event but also allowing pause for thought about man’s treatment of nature; a key moment.
Further cruelty is handled with similar finesse. As Vixen slaughters the cock and five hens – a gleeful ensemble – each throws out red feathers as they collapse. It is no joke, of course, but is made to seem so.
Children people this show as to the manner born, none more so than the squirrels with their parasols and the ten fox-cubs, all the spitting image of their mother. Special praise, too, for the supple dancing of the Dragonfly (Stefanos Dimoulas) and the Spirit of the Vixen (Lucy Burns), as eloquent as the music.
None of these pleasures would have been possible without a conductor alive to the score’s many nuances: Andrew Gourlay is in complete command. An evening as thought-provoking as it is enchanting.
Further performances of The Cunning Little Vixen: Leeds Grand Theatre, February 23, 7pm, March 3, 7pm, and March 4, 2.30pm. Box office: 0113 243 0808 or leedsheritagetheatres.com. On tour to Salford, Nottingham, Newcastle and Hull (New Theatre, March 29, school matinee, 1pm; March 31, 7pm; hulltheatres.co.uk).
Mini Vixen, a shortened family entertainment with three singers, a violinist and an accordionist will be performed at National Centre for Early Music, Walmgate, York, on February 26, 11.30am and 1.30pm. Box office: 01904 658338 or ncem.co.uk.
Opera North beneath Tim Scutt’s cupola in Tosca. All pictures: James Glossop
Opera North in Tosca, Leeds Grand Theatre; further performances on January 28, 2.30pm; February 3, 22, 25 and 28 and March 2, 7.30pm. Box office: 0113 243 0808or leedsheritagetheatres.com. On tour to Salford, Nottingham, Newcastle and Hull until April 1; more details at operanorth.co.uk.
EDWARD Dick’s updated production of Tosca has returned to Leeds after four and a half years and under his continued aegis on the surface not much has changed.
Still with us, remarkably, is Robert Hayward, who has held onto the role of Scarpia since Christopher Alden’s 2002 production. Giselle Allen is back in the title role. Those two alone are surely enough to bring Yorkshire audiences back in droves. Both have been stalwarts in Leeds for at least two decades, virtually company principals throughout that time.
Otherwise, interest centres on the British debut of Ukrainian tenor Mykhailo Malafii – in fact he had never set foot on these shores until the rehearsals – and the conducting of new music director Garry Walker, taking over from the (now) principal guest conductor Antony Hermus. This quartet makes a tasty combination of the tried and tested on the one hand with innovation on the other.
So, this is no mere rehash. Quite the contrary. From the moment that Callum Thorpe’s lithe Angelotti shins down the rope from Tom Scutt’s central cupola there is the excitement of fear in the air, although it is balanced by Matthew Stiff’s amusingly bumbling Sacristan and Malafii’s smiling Cavaradossi, who seems not to have a care in the world.
Giselle Allen as Tosca and Robert Hayward as Scarpia in Opera North’s Tosca
When the net tightens, the contrast is heightened. We are reminded that Scarpia is not universally despised when the priest at the close of a rousing Te Deum appears to bless him (echoes of Patriarch Kirill’s espousal of Vladimir Putin). More importantly, Tosca and Cavaradossi establish the warmth of their love in their brief rendezvous.
But Act 2 is the real clincher. The scope of Allen’s soprano is breath-taking, thrillingly determined at the top, a chesty growl of revulsion at the bottom. She has surely never sung better. As she and Hayward chased each other over and around Scarpia’s bed – his “office” in every sense – we were on the edge of our seats. This was for real.
Hayward has refined his Scarpia from a straightforward monster into something more nuanced and sinister, a wily pervert. When he wipes a tear from Allen’s cheek with his finger, it is virtually an act of abuse.
He leaves no doubt of his intentions by pleasuring himself against a bedpost. But his baritone tells us that although his lust is up, so is his anger. This is more than menace; it is hell-bent lechery. His death is horrendously gory. When his body twitched just before the curtain, the person in the next seat almost jumped out of their seat.
Bar sales undoubtedly soared in the interval as nerves were soothed. There are not the same shocks in Act 3 although Tosca’s fall backwards through the cupola, now on its side, is hair-raising enough. By now, Malafii’s tenor has reached full flow. His Act 1 sound was dry and quite tight, but as relaxation kicked in his tone warmed and resonated more broadly.
Mykhailo Malafii, in his British debut, as Cavaradossi and Giselle Allen as Tosca
As the run progresses the stars in ‘E lucevan le stelle’ will doubtless glow more brightly. Alex Banfield is a lightweight Spoletta, more PA than gangster, but Richard Mosley-Evans’s thuggish Sciarrone compensates. Bella Blood (double-cast with Hattie Cobb) is a sweet-toned Shepherd Boy. The modern tech paraphernalia of mobiles and laptops only serves to underline that there are plenty of despots still around.
In the overall analysis, Garry Walker’s orchestra is a character in its own right and pulls no punches. The horns, deprived by retirement of their legendary principal Robert Ashworth, are still right on the button at the start of Act 3; the brass in general are fiercely edgy. One can only admire the way Walker’s orchestral punctuation, especially in Act 1, is so tautly disciplined.
In last November’s round of Arts Council England grants, Opera North was “awarded” a stand-still £10.677 million per annum until 2026, effectively a serious cut. Amid the general whingeing in the British operatic world, Opera North has remained silent and simply got on with it. It’s called Yorkshire grit (as a transplanted southerner I can afford to say that). The proof of the pudding is a Tosca that any company would have been proud to mount.
Review by Martin Dreyer
Opera North’s Tosca plays Hull New Theatre on March 30 and April 1, 7pm. Box office: 01482 300306 or hulltheatres.co.uk.
Nico Darmanin’s Alfredo Germont and Alison Langer’s Violetta Valéry in Opera North’s La Traviata. Picture: Richard H Smith
ALESSANDRO Talevi’s production, first seen in September 2014, returned without any revival director, so we must assume that he took full responsibility for any shortcomings that remained.
To enable the maximum number of performances, the three principals were double-cast, as were the conductors.
We were spared the bacilli behind the all-seeing eye that dogged Violetta’s every move – it began as a moon – but the slow handclap from masked males behind a screen at her death was still there, as tasteless and inexplicable as ever. Was this supposed to be a judgment on the courtesan and her trade or misogyny pure and simple? The Carmen charade at Flora’s party also stayed in, complete with explanatory signs.
Fortunately, there were musical compensations, not least in the Violetta Valéry of Alison Langer. Her quiet organisation of her Act 1 double aria seemed to emanate from a singer of much wider experience: her coloratura was calmly controlled and her phrasing succulently spacious, where others so often seem anxious to get it out of the way.
She also looked young enough for the role – a rarity in itself – with a touch of frailty that was engaging. On this showing, she is at the start of something really big. Certainly she looks and sounds ready for it.
Nico Darmanin was a diffident Alfredo Germont at the start, almost as if embarrassed by his affair. His tone was also pinched. To give him the benefit of the doubt, it is possible that Talevi saw him as an angry young man in the lead-up to throwing his winnings at Violetta. But we saw the real Darmanin – and Alfredo – in Act 3 when he sounded altogether more relaxed. We needed more of this resonance earlier on.
“On this showing, Alison Langer is at the start of something really big. Certainly she looks and sounds ready for it,” predicts reviewer Martin Dreyer
Damiano Salerno, like Darmanin making his company debut, is an experienced Verdian and brought a certain finesse to his Giorgio. But there was a sense in which he was holding back, that there was more to give.
The conductor for this threesome was Jonathan Webb, certainly a safe pair of hands and ever conscious of balance. The climax of Violetta’s duet with Giorgio in Act 2 needed better preparation and for once he might have let the orchestra off the leash a little. A little untidiness in the cause of bravura is excusable.
The minor aristocrats were given plenty of vim, and there were distinctive contributions from Amy J Payne’s Annina and Victoria Sharp’s Flora. For the record, the other team of principals were Máire Flavin as Violetta, Oliver Johnston as Alfredo and Stephen Gadd as his father, with Manoj Kamps taking the baton.
Review by Martin Dreyer
Further performances on tour in Newcastle, Nottingham and Salford until November 17
Nicholas Watts’s Orpheus and Ashnaa Sasikaran’s Eurydice. Picture: Tom Arber
OPERA North originally billed this collaboration as ‘Monteverdi reimagined’. In the absence of much explanation, our own imaginations were allowed to run wild with fears of an East-West confrontation, with Monteverdi’s magic – as near as we regularly get to the fountainhead of opera, after all – irreparably diluted and the Orpheus myth literally shot to hell.
That was the gamble these companies undertook. A brief press release sent to all punters more recently looked like special pleading. One feared the worst. The reality is much different.
For seekers after truth – as we all must be when we undertake to see a new production – there turn out to be many pleasing parallels between music of the Baroque and that of the sub-continent.
It is often forgotten that Venice sits handily at the crossroads of ancient trade routes between East and West. Modal systems of music, typified by Gregorian chant, were another obvious link between the two, surviving as they do in Indian raga procedures, even if some have been gradually ironed away in western tonal patterns.
As Neil Sorrell points out in an exceptionally penetrating programme note, the voice was central to Monteverdi’s musical imagination and remains so in Indian music. Indian players routinely expect to be able to reproduce vocally what they express through their instruments.
To that extent, western musical education has been straitjacketed, not least in the dichotomy between ‘classical’ and ‘pop’, the partial result of the separation of vocal and instrumental musics. For a full rapprochement, perhaps we in the West need to broaden our approach.
Composer, sitar player and OPera North artist-in-residence Jasdeep Singh Degun. Picture: Justin Slee
This production, which has been several years in the making and delayed by Covid, forcefully reminds us of these parallels. Its moving spirit as composer – apart from Monteverdi – is Jasdeep Singh Degun, who worked in close co-operation with Baroque ace Laurence Cummings.
Singh Degun’s work adds almost an hour to Monteverdi, although the result morphs seamlessly between the two. He allows the various Indian singers to use their own languages so that we have eight, Hindu and Urdu foremost among them, jostling alongside Striggio’s Italian. All are helpfully side-titled.
The staging is in the hands of Anna Himali Howard, whose task is undoubtedly lightened by having Leslie Travers as her set and costume designer. Together they work out a way of connecting the real world with the underworld, the living with the dead.
The professed aim of their co-production is to move from a celebration of love through the darkness of grief-laden despair to the eventual rekindling of hope.
Nothing particularly unusual there, you may suppose, except that their true goal is to communicate the universality of the Orpheus myth via musical means far more wide-ranging than Monteverdi ever could have envisaged.
Travers’s set is the back garden of a semi-detached suburban house, with all the instruments arranged down the sides of a ‘V’ which opens embracingly towards the audience. So Cummings’ harpsichord rubs shoulders with Singh Degun’s sitar, Kirpal Singh Panesar’s bowed esraj with Emilia Benjamin’s lirone, while Céline Saout doubleson harp and the zither-like swarmandal and Vijay Venkat covers no less than five instruments from both camps.
Kaviraj Singh: Plays in the orchestra and takes the role of the resolute Caronte in Orpheus. Picture: Tom Arber
There are 19 players in all. From a western standpoint, the juxtaposition of instruments is undeniably exotic, adding a magical, other-worldly aroma, while the extraordinary Indian percussion supplies positively addictive momentum.
In the first half (Acts 1 & 2), the garden is the venue for the wedding of Nicholas Watts’s Orpheus and Ashnaa Sasikaran’s Eurydice, with friends and relatives happily congregating with candles and balloons. Their joy is cut tragically short with the arrival of Kezia Bienek’s Silvia, carrying Eurydice’s red and gold sari, signifying her demise.
After the interval, the sky is black, the buildings expunged and the profuse flowers (‘head gardener’ Ali Allen) disappears, resurfacing only when Orpheus returns home as the Apollo of Singh Panesar offers spiritual relief from his pain.
The earlier guests have become spirits in the underworld, which adds a touch of the uncanny. Choral traditions are slight in India, but all the voices meld well, and the differing solo vocal ornamentations sound complementary rather than antagonistic, implying compromise on both sides.
Watts began nervously but gradually blossomed on opening night until reaching a peak of emotional resonance in ‘Possente spirto’; Sasikaran makes a charming, gentle Eurydice. Bienek is a forthright Silvia and Chandra Chakraborty a lively Proserpina. Kaviraj Singh offers a resolute Caronte and Singh Panesar an equally persuasive Apollo; significantly, both also play in the orchestra. Dean Robinson’s Pluto strikes the right conciliatory note.
Just about the only mild disappointment is the dancing, which is largely circular and rudimentary. But overall, this is a happy conjunction of two powerful traditions, a cross-fertilisation that promises further musical riches.
Review by Martin Dreyer
Further performances on tour in Newcastle, Nottingham and Salford until November 19.
