Cattivo consiglio

 And so to the opera. The number of views this blog gets have decreased even faster than the number of posts that I have made, but if anything should whack them right back up again it's reviews of two rarely performed operas. 

Rossini's 'Il viaggio a Reims' was written to celebrate the coronation of a King Charles, meaning that ETO's current production is perhaps more timely than one of those they performed last year. On the other hand the king in question was Charles X of France, who was crowned in 1825 and deposed in the July revolution of 1830; will the Windsors go the way of the Bourbons? Reviews have been mixed, but I'm with those who say that it's an enjoyable romp. I'm also with those who say 'lose the third act'. 

Musically stronger - Rossini wrote his piece to be performed just the once, and recycled the best bits into other operas - was Donizetti's 'Lucrezia Borgia'. I'm not sure it was dramatically stronger because, well, it made no sense at all. Nor does it appear to have much to do with history. It was however beautifully sung and blackly comic. Lucrezia is much given to reminding the Duke of Ferrara that he is her fourth husband, with the implication as to what happened to the first three being fairly clear. The work also contains what must be the worst advice in all of opera when Orsini (on the left above) tells the not terribly bright Gennaro (that's him on the right) that they should go that night's feast given by notorious poisoner Lucrezia Borgia, as there will be plenty of time to leave town tomorrow. It doesn't end well for either of them, or for pretty much everyone else in the cast come to that.

Il dolce suono

And so to the opera. I have belatedly become an enthusiast for live transmissions of stage plays and, even more belatedly, have extended it to operas. The big worry was, obviously, what would the sound be like, and I have to report that it was superb; on top of which I think that in this case the cinema viewer may have got the best of the visuals as well, because the camera was able to focus on what really mattered without being distracted by all the nonsense entailed by the director's agenda. The most odd thing about the live relay experience is the lack of applause from the audience around one. It's bad enough in a play, but in opera there are far more occasions for applauding, or indeed for booing; because I have been to see the controversial Royal Opera House production of Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor. Overall conclusion? I'm voting no. Not to the extent of booing; that would be ridiculous even if I wasn't two hundred miles away, although two people did walk out when our heroine had a very bloody miscarriage. But top marks to the band and the singers, especially the thrilling Diana Damrau in the title role, but nul points for the pretentious direction and staging.

The director stated in an interview screened before the performance that she wanted to make this a more feminist version. I have no problem with that ambition. My literary taste doesn't run to the Gothic in general or to Sir Walter Scott in particular so I can't comment on how feminist or otherwise the original novel is; I'm guessing not very. However, the reality is that the plot is the plot and Lucia is a victim (not the only one - surely one has to feel a bit sorry for Arturo); therefore the best way to make a feminist point is to show that her victimhood at the hands of men is a bad thing. This isn't very hard.

What is hard is watching the stupid split stage with which the director inflicts us. Her argument is seemingly that by showing Lucia doing stuff when everyone else is making decisions about her the female role is enhanced. It doesn't work. All that one sees - with one major exception - is her dressing, undressing and vomiting while the men do the powerful stuff. Feminism my arse. The major exception is where the thing really comes unstuck. The one real act of existential authenticity that our heroine takes (I mean in the original plot; in this version she also consummates her passion for Edgardo) is to murder her husband on their wedding night. Donizetti has it take place offstage while Edgardo and Enrico are debating which of them, is going to kill the other and why. Here it takes place on the other side of the stage at the same time. Unfortunately the brother and the lover take so long raking over old family feuds that, presumably in order to occupy the time, Arturo turns out to be as hard to kill as Rasputin. He's stabbed, but he won't stay down; he's smothered with a pillow, but he rises again; and so on. It's hilarious, but that's probably not what was intended. As is the fact that all the female chorus members are dressed as men and have false moustaches.

Now regular readers will know that I like a bit of bel canto almost as much as I like a bit of verismo, and vocally this was really good stuff; but probably best listened to rather than watched.

The course of true love never did run smooth

And so to the opera. In fact I've been two nights in a row, which is excessive even for me, although not unprecedented. First up was 'Cosi fan tutte' by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, a young composer who shows much promise. The work wasn't performed much for many years because it was considered immoral; to modern eyes the failing of its story is more due to misogyny than lack of morals. The title means roughly 'women are all the same', an irritatingly immature attitude for a major work of art to profess. The music is sublime though and, as usual, was done full justice by the orchestra of Opera North and the singers. The production was a revival from a decade or so ago, with all the action taking place in a giant camera obscura. This isn't as odd as it sounds and works rather well, but I can vividly remember the tutting from behind me years ago when it was first staged. As an aside there is also a moment to please all those of you - those many, many of you - who appear to have a thing for women dressed in male military attire.

All that the performance of Donizetti's 'L'elisir d'amore' has in common is that it is also a revival, it made me think of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' (1) and it seems to set out to demonstrate that women are fickle and shallow. So quite a lot in common then. Notwithstanding Mozart's genius, my own taste runs much more to bel canto and so I actually preferred this. Plus it's funnier and has a hot air balloon. Again this is a fine interpretation, with everyone on top form, although I'm going to pick out the female chorus for particular praise.

Returning to Mozart, he and/or Da Ponte might have had somewhat dodgy views on sexual equality, but they did at least give us a character, Despina, who overtly challenges the idea that the rich and idle are entitled to hot chocolate while the workers have to make do with the aroma. Right on, sister.


(1) I have read that the plot of 'Cosi fan tutte' more closely resembles 'Cymbeline', but despite a quote from that play appearing on this very blog less than a fortnight ago I've never actually seen it. There is a production on a the Globe this summer, so perhaps I'll have a chance then.