English Touring Opera brought not one, but three musical
pieces from the multi-faceted 17th century to Buxton Opera House
last night. The star piece was Purcell’s famed one-act opera “Dido And Aeneas”. In support were Carissimi’s oratorio “Jonas”, and a selection of
madrigals, motets and other short works from Gesualdo under the title “I Will
Not Speak”. Three different theatre directors; eight exquisite singers; and the
deft conducting of Jonathan Peter Kenny for all three acts.
The jewel of the evening was “Dido & Aeneas”, and not
just because of the music. Designer Adam Wiltshire and lighting designer Rory
Beaton ought to have taken a bow at the end along with the performers. Their
contribution was so cleverly integral to the production, and yet so beautiful
in its own right. Supporting director Seb Harcombe’s vision of telling the
story entirely from Dido’s point of view, the set was the interior of an
Elizabethan mansion, skewed crazily at a downward angle to the corner where
Dido’s chair was.
Picking up on the moon/ sun – Artemis/ Apollo imagery
within the libretto, Dido (delicately sung by Sky Ingram in a performance
incorporating everything from girlish flippancy to a queen’s dignity) was
identified with the moon, in a deep blue gown and stars in her hair, and much
of the opera was performed at night, with dark shadows and a large luminous full
moon in the sky. Aeneas (warmly sung by Nicholas Mogg) was identified with the
sun, initially through strong shafts of sunlight shining through gloomy
windows, then in person in golden-toned clothing, and further added to by his
exchange with the messenger Spirit from the gods (the very pure voice of
Benjamin Williamson) wearing a sun-shaped headdress. Sunlight, in the end,
could not overcome darkness, but even Dido’s well-known unhappy ending had a
little twist to it. It was very lovely.
Frederick Long’s dark-toned voice led a coven of
gleefully malevolent witches, and he physically writhed his way around the
stage as he plotted his revenge on the lovers. Susanna Fairbairn gave a
sympathetic performance as the handmaiden Belinda. The ensemble of sailors
greatly relished explaining to us why their “nymphs” were begging them to stay
on shore – with accompanying physical gestures.
In the first half were presented the other two pieces.
“Jonas” was given a quiet, thoughtful presentation on a stripped-back stage, in
modern dark-coloured clothing that was still vaguely reminiscent of an
olden-days fishing village. The eight singers took turns to sing in narration
the familiar Biblical story, with Jorge Navarro-Colorado beautifully performing
Jonas in calmness and soft detail. Bernadette Iglich’s direction was very
interesting: the performers continuously slowly moved and transitioned into
various states of physical tension, always individualised, and completely
integral to the music.
“I Will Not Speak” was a bit more jumbled, and though the
singing was beautiful, overall I was not sure what director James Conway was
getting at. A plain black set was cut up with shelves of amber-coloured candles
and two dark mirrors. At times the black-clad singers were only illuminated by
tiny orange flames cupped in their own hands. As the singers interjected the
songs with speeches about Gesualdo’s life, and spoken performances of poems by
other poets of the period, we learnt that Gesualdo was a cruel prince who
murdered his first wife, was vile to his second wife and his children, and
wrote religious music to soothe his personal demons. Yet the singers remained
carefully ambivalent about their material throughout, even when performing the
prose parts, and that dispassion did seem strange.
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