Author: Brett Herriot

***** (5 stars)

“What a delight!”

Yet again Scottish Opera have found four supremely talented young singers who, with the accompaniment of a brilliant pianist, kept us engrossed in the extraordinary kaleidoscope of emotions they displayed for us in Trav 1 last night.

It must have been a challenge for them all to be in the Trav’s heavily-draped theatre space, with its extremely high rake, instead of the village halls they usually perform in.  It’s much harder to sing in a space which absorbs instead of reflecting the sound you make – the impulse is to make more effort, to shout, instead of relying on your normal technique to deliver the goods.  I also felt sorry for Megan Rhoades, the pianist, who had to perform on a tiny Yamaha whose sound was small and really didn’t carry to me on the front row: I can only hope that it travelled up to reach the back rows of the pretty full house.

Fiona MacSherry has devised a superb programme which displayed the multifaceted nature of human relationships – love, unrequited or returned, jealousy, rage, despair, misery, heartbreak and happiness – and placed it, surprisingly but extremely successfully, into the setting of an office party.  Fiona also unknowingly provided a moment of unbounded joy for me: for the first time in my life I saw a live performance of Samuel Barber’s A hand of bridge, of which more anon.

Baritone James Geidt was making his debut with Scottish Opera, and he opened the show with Tonio’s prologue from Leoncavallo’s I pagliacci.  It felt to me that he was perhaps trying a little too hard as he reminded us that tonight’s performers are human  beings who themselves feel real emotions: I was happy to hear a much more relaxed and mellifluous sound from him later in the evening.

Extracts from Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette gave all four singers a chance to shine vocally while also quickly establishing the dramas at play in the office party: who fancied whom, who hadn’t an earthly, and what quarrels were brewing.  Another of my favourite pieces – Massenet’s Charlotte’s tragic musing on the absent poet Werther’s letters gave mezzo Chloe Harris a perfect opportunity to hint at imminent tragedy, to which Ceferina Perry’s Sophie is completely oblivious.  More tragedy followed, with Nedda and Silvio’s escape plans being overheard by Canio, Nedda’s husband, and providing tenor Luvo Maranti with a wonderfully show-stopping aria to close the first half.

Many moons ago now I purchased my first CD player and with it the first items in what became an extensive collection.  One of these was a compilation disc – mostly extracts from other CDs, but also a piece which both intrigued and haunted me: Samuel Barber’s eight-minute opera, A hand of bridge.  Two married couples – Bill and Sally, Geraldine and David – meet regularly to play bridge.  As the game progresses, we become privy to the inner lives of the participants.  Barber’s real-life partner, composer Gina-Carlo Menotti (possibly best known for his Amahl and the Night Visitors, a Christmas piece a million miles away from the emotions of this work!) wrote the libretto – and what a revealing one!  Bill is fixating on his current mistress, Cymbeline; Geraldine laments that her lover Bill, her husband, and her dying mother are all slipping away from her; David’s frustrated rage at his employer, Mr Pritchett, the bastard, bursts out intermingled with a stream of wild sexual fantasies; and all the while Sally, who is frustrated at always being dummy, finds consolation in dreaming of her wished for hat of peacock feathers.  It was a total joy to see all this realised for us while in the midst of this complex music a game of cards was played out.

Another delight followed.  I love all of Handel’s operas, but Alcina is one of my very favourites.  The hero, Ruggiero, is the latest victim of the eponymous sorceress, trapped on an island inhabited by the animals and statues who were previous human victims of her magic.  Bradamante, his betrothed, has disguised herself as a man, Ricciardo, and gone to find him.  She reveals herself to him, but he is totally confused: has he just met his beloved, or is ‘she’ yet another of Alcina’s enchantments?  Chloe Harris gave a wonderful performance of this aria, making me long to see her in the whole role.

And then the foursome let their hair down!  It probably helped that this was the last night of a pretty long (two month) run, but also that the music was Johann Strauss II’s frothy comedy Die Fledermaus.  Intrigue, deception, masks and trickery are the order of the day as we attend Orlofsky’s party, the order of the day being chacon à son gout (each to his own).  One magic moment within this was the delivery of a marvellous hat with not only peacock feathers but a tiny peacock on it: a real shoutout for the props/ wardrobe team!!  

Arias, duets, and a final glorious quartet brought the evening to a scintillating end: almost – after our thunderous applause we were brought gently to earth by a warm and affectionate Duidu quartet in which the singers use the informal ‘du’ rather than the polite, more formal ‘sie’.  More appreciative applause accompanied our performers as they finally left the stage.

It was an enchanted and enchanting evening.  The pieces were cleverly selected both to entertain and to showcase the singers’ talents: almost my only criticism is that their voices blended so well, it’s a pity there weren’t a couple more quartets in the programme.  It was a delight to hear mezzo Chloe Harris and tenor Luvo Maranti after their magnificent performances in last week’s Ravel and Walton double bill, and to see yet more of their versatility.  I was impressed by both Ceferina Perry and James Geidt and trust that they will soon be returning to perform with Scottish Opera.

And then for something completely different – Tchaikovsky heroines next week and a new opera next year…. Dai Fujikura and Harry Ross’ the Great Wave explores the life of Japanese artist Hokusai – another world premiere from Scottish Opera.  Is it any wonder that I love this company?!

Scottish Opera, Opera Highlights autumn tour, Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, TOUR ENDED

***** (5 stars)

“Fascinatingly Contrasting”

Scottish Opera chose a very interesting pair of one-act operas for their contribution to this autumn’s Lammermuir Festival, with performances in Glasgow and Edinburgh later in the year.

Ravel’s L’heure espagnole is an amusing farce – an old clockmaker’s younger wife attempts to enliven the one day of the week her husband is out, with interestingly confusing results.  Walton’s The Bear at first sight seems much more sombre – there is humour, but subtler and understated in the tale of a grieving widow who refuses to re-engage with life, despite the urgings of her servant.  She is determined to punish her husband by her extreme devotion in mourning; it takes the arrival of a determined creditor to shatter her calm demeanour, with surprising results.

It’s not particularly uncommon to find the Ravel in performance, but the Walton is very rarely staged – so this was a particularly exciting evening for opera lovers.  It was also a wonderful demonstration of Scottish Opera’s ability to select young singers who display great potential for their Emerging Artists programme, and continue to cast them in increasingly prominent roles as they mature as performers.

Lea Shaw is the perfect example of this.  I’ve been struck by her talent from the first time I saw her when she was an Emerging Artist: her performance as the bored and frustrated clockmaker’s wife, Concepciòn, was brilliant.  Much of her part consisted of telling us, the audience, how frustrated she was, while at the same time juggling two would-be lovers and, in the process, finding that the despised third young man is actually the most promising of all.  Her ability to conceal her increasing frustration while juggling two very different suitors in and out of her husband’s clocks was masterly – the slightest gesture or facial expression spoke volumes.  And her singing is as magnificent as ever.

Three current Emerging Artists did double duty this evening, while a fourth took on the massive role of Yelena Ivanovna Popova, the grieving widow.  Chloe Harris was at first subdued, seemingly meek and mild, devoted to the memory of her husband.  Only slowly did her burning resentment of his philandering behaviour emerge: her continuing mourning was an attempt to punish him, make him suffer beyond the grave.  As her husband’s creditor increased his pressure on her to pay a long-outstanding debt, her composure slowly cracked and shattered, with explosive results. Another fabulous voice that I want to hear again, and soon!

Tenor Luvo Maranti was new to me.  He had little to do in The Bear, but was obviously at home in comedy.  In the Ravel, he was perfectly cast as Gonzalve, the lyrical poet who would rather write verse about his experiences of engaging with a woman than actually get down to any action.  His voice is gorgeous, and Ravel’s music really suited him.  Again, I want to hear more!  [excellent news: I get to hear both of them in the touring company’s programme at the Traverse next weekend…]

I’ve been very impressed with what I’ve seen to date of Edward Jowle.  He can handle both comedy and more serious stuff, as shown in his performances in Trial by Jury, A Matter of Misconduct and La Bohème.  Tonight he was mildly funny as the uptight [and over-sized] nobleman seeking a bit of a fling with Concepciòn: he was superbly comical as the concerned butler, Luka – definite touches of John Cleese and the Addams’s Lerch there – alternating impeccable buttling and at times very subtle, at times outrageous, attempts to restore proper behaviour as that of his mistress and her visitor become increasingly uninhibited. 

And Daniel Barrett: what a joy!  Gorgeous voice, lively manner, excellent comic timing and also the ability to switch to heart-breaking pathos in an instant – again, I really look forward to seeing more of him.  As the naïve muleteer Ramiro, he willingly hefted enormous clocks around at the behest of the lively Concepciòn, mistaking her machinations for kindly attempts to give him employment, and grateful that he is not expected to engage her in conversation – he doesn’t know how to deal with women, and is much happier around animals.  Though by the end of the opera, I think he’s beginning to change his mind…  Daniel’s Grigory Stepanovich Smimov is a complete contrast, initially polite and even beseeching as he attempts to collect the debt which will save him from financial ruin, and gradually transforming into the hulking great angry bear of the title, expressing a maelstrom of conflicting emotions towards the grieving widow.

Last, but by no means least, Jamie McDougall was his subtly comic best as the trusting clockmaker, Torquemada and the hapless cook, roped in at the last minute to try to help butler Luka and [unnamed] groom deal with the raging monster who’s wrecking their mistress’s house.

Jamie is a wonderfully versatile performer – deeply moving in his recent, final, performances as Harry Lauder, and seemingly able to turn his hand to just about everything.

The simple set sat well amidst that of Bohème – fluorescent tubes changed colour to reflect the moods of the pieces with superb contrast between the brightly-hued Spanish setting and the sombre, black-and-lilac Russian gloom.  Costumes and props in the Ravel were equally colourful and fantastical, underlining the light-hearted mood, while a funeral parlour setting, complete with coffin and portrait of the deceased and home to many black potted palm trees, spoke clearly of deep melancholy.  

The music was also fascinatingly contrasting.  Ravel wrote different styles of music for each of his protagonists, so that much of the opera consisted of show pieces for each character: only in the final quintet did all five characters come together, though each had something different to say.  It seemed quite bizarrely out of place but I guess also a strangely fitting way to end such a whimsical piece.  I have to say I much preferred the Walton because the piece was more of a continuous piece and the orchestration was subtle and complex and very clearly revealed what was going on inside each character’s head.  I can’t say it sounded very Russian, though!

Both pieces were very well received, and together made a splendid evening’s entertainment, while also showcasing the talent of Scottish Opera’s younger artists.  Small wonder that the audience were moved to long and deeply appreciative applause at the end of The Bear.  

L’Heure Espagnole and The Bear, Scottish Opera, Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, RUN ENDED