by A rough step that turns and tilts like a raft lost in a stormy sea; glugging, googling sound effects; animated chalk words on live video; paper birds that take flight by scurrying figures in black; trials of fire and flood that seem to engulf the entire theater. The orchestra sits high above the pit, a lone flutist stepping from his seat to provide real magic as the situation demands. Sometimes the audience too – terror and terror – is on the verge of participation as characters tear through the auditorium. Mozart and his librettist, the actor-impresario Emanuel Schikaneder, loved pantomimic theater, anarchy and inventions and illusions, English National Opera’s. The Magic Flutereturns for the third revival since its 2013 premiere, directed by Erina Yashima making her house debut.
In collaboration with the theater company Complicité, directed by its co-founder Simon McBurney, the action moves in the space as if without walls (designs by Michael Levine). Shakespeare’s The Temple is a narrative reference point. Bringing this complicated staging back to the Coliseum at a time of such crisis – the ongoing saga of management and the embarrassment of Arts Council England – is ENO’s departure. We can assume that the budget was shrinking, that the exercises were at least pressured.
Manon dies in a dry land made of gold curtains. Rules of metaphor
This may have been evident at a few dangerous moments, but the team overcame difficulties thanks to the expert work of the revival director, Rachael Hewer. There were some standout performances: former ENO Harewood Artist Sarah Tynan shone as Pamina; Rainelle Krause made a great debut in the house as the mad and steely Queen of the Night. David Stout’s ladder-carrying Papageno was fun and funny, and John Relyea, Sarastro’s smooth TV evangelist, was stylish, sonorous and creepily masterful. There was orchestration and finesse along with excellent chorus work. This fast-selling run, which received hearty applause and laughter on the first night, is a must. We may not get another chance – unless we travel to New York, where it is now part of the repertoire of the Metropolitan Opera, no expense has been spared.
English Touring Opera had secured a strong cast for a new production of Puccini’s Manon Lescautdirected by Gerry Cornelius, who opened the company’s spring season at Hackney Empire (Stravinksy’s Progress The Rake following this weekend). Jenny Stafford, with a bright and attractive voice as the fickle heroine, and Gareth Dafydd Morris, persuasive as her lover Des Grieux, led an effective ensemble, supported by Aidan Edwards (Lescaut) and Edward Hawkins (Geronte) and a slim chorus, characteristic. . The orchestra was small, but made up for lackluster high points with expressive string solos. Musically, the performance was on solid ground.
Alas, the production, directed by Jude Christian, whose libretto has also been rejigged, is baffled from the start. Who were these people in colorful velvet, decorated with orange netting or yellow feathers or shaking a pink toy poodle? Why was Manon wearing a blue wig like a cheap doll, and why was her rich man, Geronte, or her lover dressed in white, given camp, rouge cheek make-up? The director’s notes explained that the musical is conceived as a nightmare. Turning it into a surrealist horror, therefore, defeats a point and purpose.
The action of the original, after Abbé Prévost’s novel, is set in France in the 18th century and ends in the desert of Louisiana. ETO’s version takes place in a swimming pool, represented by blue curtains and drinking fountains. Manon dies in a dry land made of gold curtains. Rules of metaphor. All this, designed by Charlotte Henery with close dedication so that the show can tour to 15 venues between now and the end of May, would be bearable if the emotion of the work did not end. However you interpret Manon – as a fake gold digger susceptible to baubles and beads, or as an abused woman driven from disorder – her love for Des Grieux, expressed in highly elevated music, the backbone of the work, and its tragedy. Here, the lovers were wooden, cold, intentionally disconnected. Go for the singing. Tell me I’m wrong.
A shake-up was announced last week for Radio 3, but when you scrutinize the new schedule (from April), it’s mostly swapping things around, stretching, snipping, adding. One of the most important measures is to snooze the main informative feature on that Saturday morning Record Review to a lower profile evening slot. Music Courses it being less news and more feature led. Jazz slot,’Midnight Round, together with Soweto Kinch, will welcome a variety of music five nights a week. Tom Service’s new Saturday morning show is sure to have sharp edges, and Sara Mohr-Pietsch’s Sunday afternoon show looks interesting too. Much of the rest feels like a mix of Radio 2 and Classic FM.
No matter how benign you feel towards individual presenters, old or new – all because of the different tastes – Radio 3 is not primarily about voices but about program content and a spirit of inquiry. This is about intensity and surprise. It gives the station distinction (and let’s end the elitism, high or low brow). Radio 3 is where so many of us, from generation to generation, piqued our interest in classical music, stretched our ears and expanded our minds – and still do. This requires active listening. Otherwise we can find what we like on AI generated playlists. I’m holding my breath. Go on Radio 3!
Star ratings (out of five)
The Magic Flute ★★★★
Manon Lescaut ★★
