The Opera at Glyndebourne has become extremely famous worldwide, and yet, nevertheless, it is an elitist enigma. A large, professional and fully-functioning theatre, larger than some West End theatres, has been built within the grounds of a remote stately home in the middle of countryside in Sussex {somewhere between Brighton and Eastbourne} accessible only by private transport. It's a 'to-be-seen-at' event, not just a night at the theatre, but at an average price of £250 per ticket, it's something that few of us can afford, and makes the whole festival for the rich by the rich, and very exclusive. Surely that goes completely against what theatre is all about?!
That being said however, this evening I was fortunate enough to be able to watch a live broadcast performance of the opera, completely free, on my computer. And it is this televised performance which now forms the basis of my critique.
It was obvious that no expense had been spared with this extravant and colourful production. A cleverly designed cartoon-drawn set in shades of black and white, rather flat and silhouette-like in many instances made a stark and deliberate contrast with the colouful and almost Alice-In-Wonderland-esque fantasy style costuming.(Barbe And Doucet) Add to this a superb lighting design, some theatrical magic and excellently designed puppets, it made the whole opera visually striking and certainly managed to sustain my attention throughout. Despite the length of this opera - here performed in its original German language entirely without cuts.
This production was 'modernised' and 'reimagined' as it was set in a high class hotel (in particular the kitchen) in Vienna in the early 1900s. One of the hotel's guests, a certain Tamino, sleepwalks and this bizarre, often magical, but highly eccentric version is the contents of his dream. For me the most noteworthy performances came from charismatic baritone, Björn Bürger, as Papageno, and the deep and mellow bass tones of Brindley Sherratt as Sarastro. I have never been over-fond of sopranos, especially those who shrill and shriek on the high notes, but, Sofia Fomina has to be commended in her role as Pamina for singing her fair share of extremely high notes and pitching then perfectly every time. David Portillo puts in a very creditable performance as Tamino, slightly overplaying his hand a little, but perhaps deliberately so.
The Magic Flute is not the most understandable narrative in the world. Perhaps it was never meant to be taken literally, and is more of a theatrical allegory. But for all the positives and strengths that this production conveyed - not least the superb vocal sweetness and dexterity of the principals, and the lovely choral singing - the production as a whole seemed rather weighted and worthy. Surely, if anything, it should have been farcical, humorous, fast-paced and witty? Sadly, it wasn't any of these, but rather dour and sanctimonious for all it's gay costuming and design. Andre Barbe and Renaud Doucet, the French-Canadian director / designer team, (their debut in the UK) tried hard to inject hunour into places but without much success. The Orchestra Of The Age Of Enlightenment, under the superb direction of Ryan Wigglesworth complemented the text nicely. It was the puppetry, from Partick Martel, that more or less stole the show though!
Verdict: Heavy on the lush, overly busy and fantastical, with sometimes overlapping and confusing imagery in the style of the film, 'Grand Budapest Hotel' (without the comedy), with a little Tim Burton and Lewis Carroll thrown in for good measure!; but lacking in laughs and coherence.
Reviewer - Matthew Dougall
on - 4/8/19
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