Category: Mary Woodward Review

***** (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

***** (5 stars)

“It’s Simply Stunning”

Having just got back from Finland the night before, I was tired and the temptation not to go out into a dark and wet night was strong.  I am SO glad I made it to the FilmHouse for this world premiere of David Ireland’s The Fifth Step.  

It’s simply stunning.

The play’s title references one of the Alcoholics Anonymous Twelve Steps, which their website says provide a structured and gradual process of recovery from addiction to alcohol.  The fourth step is to make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves: the fifth is to admit to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.  The website goes on to say that ‘God’ in the 12 Steps absolutely does not have to be a religious entity.  The purpose is to think of a higher power, such as nature, or simply what happens when people come together to help each other.

James has been sober for many years.  He’s a quiet, respectable Englishman who is very self-contained but at the same time seems happy to reach out to help Luka, who has not long arrived at AA.  Luka’s in a bad way – twitching and jiggling around, words streaming out of him in tortured explosions.  He’s a Scot, a ginge with a huge chip on his shoulder and a maelstrom of emotions whirling inside him: he’s like a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding.

Luka asks James to be his sponsor: James agrees, and the two men meet regularly.  We see Luka beginning slowly to creep out of his tormented life and to establish habits that help him resist the constant temptations of alcohol and the obsessive behaviours in which he hides.  We also discover more about the incredibly reserved James – all is not well in his life despite his protestations to the contrary.   Luka has struggled with writing his step four, and when he begins to approach step five the relationship between the two men comes under extreme pressure.

Words fail me as I try to describe just how good Martin Freeman and Jack Lowden are as James and Luka – and how brilliantly their delivery of David Ireland’s words takes us on a roller-coaster ride of emotions.  In the after-show Q&A with these three men, we heard that the sympathies of Scottish audiences were totally with the troubled Luka, while in England it was English James who got the sympathy for encountering the large, loud, in your face Scot.  This must make me a Scot [by adoption], for my sympathy was totally with Luka, both for his initial struggles and the incredible progress he made.  James’ initial gentle calm helpfulness cracked under pressure, and a much less likeable person began to emerge…

I don’t want to go into greater detail: you’ll have to see this for yourself!  There’s incredible humour – again, particularly Scottish in some places, with the cinema audience laughing heartily while the theatre audience seemed quite silent.  The language is rich, very graphic in places, and wonderfully descriptive both of emotions and situations.  A constant thread throughout the evening is the ‘God’ of AA – both deeply moving and hysterically funny at times, with a wonderful final twist.

The filming of the play is incredibly well done – we are virtually beside James and Luka on stage much of the time, and can see the slightest trace of emotions flitting across their faces.  The play began its life in 2024 with National Theatre of Scotland productions in Dundee, Edinburgh and Glasow.  Earlier this year, the show transferred to the West End of London and was a sell-out success at the intimate, in-the-round @sohoplace theatre.  It’s this production that was captured live and which you will be able to watch in cinemas from November 27^th [thefifthstep.ntlive.com]

This is one of the most powerful pieces of theatre I’ve seen in a long time – you’d be a fool to miss it!

The Fifth Step, National Theatre Live!, General Release on 18th November at Cinemas Nationwide

***** (5 stars)

“Absolutely superb”

Four young men – a poet, a painter, a musician, and a philosopher – struggle to make a living in Paris.  It’s Christmas Eve, freezing cold, and they are cold, hungry, and penniless.  Rodolfo, the poet, burns some of his manuscripts for a fleeting moment of warmth while Marcello, the painter, thinks longingly of Musetta, his former lover.  Schaunard, the musician, and Colline, the philosopher, arrive with some food to share.  Their landlord hears them horsing about and comes demanding the rent they owe him, but they distract him and slip away to join the fun in the streets outside.  Only Rodolfo remains, trying to finish something he’s writing.

A knock at the door heralds the arrival of a young woman who lives upstairs: her candle has gone out and she needs to relight it.  She then drops her key and can’t find it again – both candles have now gone out… In the darkness the two collide, and Rodolfo realises she is very cold – her hand feels frozen.  He tells her about his writing: she tells him she embroiders flowers for a living, and that although her name’s Lucia, everyone calls her Mimi.  The two fall in love, and go out to join Rodolfo’s friends at the Café Momus.

The streets are full of people rushing to complete last-minute errands, sitting enjoying themselves, or simply watching the world go by.  Mimi meets Rodolfo’s friends: Marcello is in agonies watching Musetta with Alcindoro, her latest elderly admirer.  He realises he still loves her: together they and the others disappear, leaving Alcindoro to foot their bill.

A couple of months later, things aren’t so rosy.  Mimi is constantly distressed by Rodolfo’s irrational jealousy, and tells Marcello she is going to leave him.  Rodolfo in turn confesses that he’s worried about Mimi’s increasingly poor health.  The two lovers agree to stay together till the spring comes, but Marcello and Musetta break up again.

Spring has come, and Marcello and Rodolfo try to pretend they don’t miss the two women.  Schaunard and Colline arrive with food to share, but they are interrupted by Musetta, who says Mimi is dangerously ill.  Musetta leaves with Marcello, intending to pawn her jewellery to pay for some medicine and a doctor.  Schaunard and Colline go to pawn Colline’s overcoat, leaving the two former lovers to remember happier times.  The others return, but only in time to witness Mimi’s death.

This production – a revival of André Barbe and Renaud Doucet’s 2017 production for Scottish Opera – is, in the main, absolutely superb, as is the lighting design of Guy Sinard.  The show opens with a crowded scene in present-day Paris, with tourists waving selfie-sticks, pawing through antique shops’ offerings, and listening to a street singer.  A young woman with a pink knitted hat sits and listens to an old gramophone record – the lights dim and she is transported back into the past, to the garret where two young men are trying not to freeze to death…

So far, so good – though I guess if Mimi dies at the end of the opera, how can she be in Paris looking back at her past life…? [it’s opera, don’t ask awkward questions!]  The time-travelling is infinitely more jarring at the start of the second half – we’ve gone back in time, so why bring us back for a mostly incomprehensible present-day scene with migrants and protesting dairy workers which then somehow mutates to the street scene between the four lovers?

The intimate scenes are superb – each of the six major characters is real, passionately alive and wanting to feel all the intensity of the emotions sweeping through them.  The crowd scenes are handled brilliantly – one could see them many times and still find new bits of business one hadn’t seen before.  The chorus, and the newly-formed children’s chorus, are all magnificent.  The principal soloists all have gorgeous voices, and Scottish Opera’s orchestra under Stuart Stratford played as thrillingly as ever – though I could wish that, at the most intensely emotional moments, they hadn’t swamped the singers’ top notes.  Mario Chang and Hye-Youn Lee were an excellent pairing as Rodolfo and Mimi, though I found Roland Wood and Rhian Lois’ Marcello and Musetta a much more engaging duo – loving to hate and hating to love each other, they kept stealing the show.  Edward Jowle had already impressed me in his roles in the double bill Scottish Opera presented earlier this year: he did so even more as Schaunard.  Callum Thorpe’s voice was a joy to hear, and he made the most of Colline’s contributions – especially his farewell to his coat.

The real problem I have with this opera is the conflict I feel between what the music is saying and the reality of what’s being presented on stage.   When I was younger [and especially when in love] I wallowed in the lush romantic music – love sweeps you off your feet and conquers everything, it’s the most important thing in life…  And then I matured, and slowly and painfully learned that being swept off one’s feet isn’t the best basis for a sound relationship, so that I can’t watch something like Bohème without an internal critical commentary on the main protagonists’ behaviour.  But then – they were young, and foolish, and maybe I need to be a bit more charitable: after all, I made some utterly appalling life decisions when I was their age…

Suffice it to say that, despite all my internal grumpiness, it was a splendid evening, overriding all my objections and showcasing the very best that Scottish Opera has to offer.  Come and relish the joy of being alive, and in love; marvel at the overflowing energy of the crowd scenes; and shed a tear [or several] at the sad bits.  Let this glorious production and Puccini’s heartrending music carry you away to the land where all that matters is love: save reality for another day.

La Bohème, Scottish Opera, Theatre Royal, Glasgow, Runs until Saturday 25^th October for more information go to: La bohème | Scottish Opera

The Production will also visit His Majesty’s Theatre Aberdeen Wednesday 30^th October – Saturday 1^st November, Eden Court Theatre Inverness Thursday 6^th November – Saturday 8^th November and the Festival Theatre Edinburgh Friday 14^th November  – Saturday 22^nd November.

***** (5 stars)

“What a joy! “

In the middle of turbulent times, an hour’s music in the quietly brilliant acoustic of Northesk church was more than welcome – it was a gift beyond price.  

Canadian guitarist Tim Beattie began his programme with Philip Glass’s Partita.  Originally written for solo double bass, Tim arranged this group of pieces for guitar.  I always think I hate Philip Glass’s music, and then come across something I really like – an object lesson in not judging a book by its cover, eh?  The guitar’s wonderful warm tone and resonant bass sang through music that started off sounding amazingly Spanish – but then weirdnesses crept in in the harmonies [rather as in Poulenc’s songs]; there were pauses, as though the composer had had a sudden thought interrupting the flow of notes; quietly reflective passages; gentle quirkiness.  The whole work was full of surprises and a delight to listen to.

We were then invited simply to relax and let the next three sets of pieces wash over us – which we were more than happy to do.  Dances by seventeenth century Spanish composer Gaspar Sanz, pieces from Scottish lute music manuscripts, and four ‘Shakespearean pieces’ for lute from the time of Elizabeth I of England, flowed over us in a gleaming stream.  Tim used his capo to shorten his guitar’s strings and produce a sound more like that of a lute – quieter, gentler, still clear but also slightly muffled: dance music for smaller, more intimate rooms.  

The Spanish dances were delightful: lively, stately, and with some very interesting rhythmic oddities.  The Scottish ones were instantly recognisable as coming from a wide-open misty landscape, with a sub-text of melancholy and longing – with some really extraordinary chords towards the end.  As Tim said, hard to believe they were written four hundred years ago…  The English dances which followed were more flowing and comfortable, still with moments of melancholy: and the wonderful Dowland Sick tune, in which melody and accompaniment twined gorgeously round each other, brought back memories of long-ago singing Dowland songs with my lutenist friend. 

The final piece in Tim’s recital was JS Bach’s Prelude, fugue and allegro, BWV 998.  This might have been written for the lute [though the music goes beyond the instrument’s range] or possibly for the lautenwerck, a keyboard instrument with a lute-like body, whose strings were plucked rather than hammered.  Whichever is the case, the piece has been appropriated by guitarists – and it’s easy to see why, as it’s a phenomenal work which gives the guitarist the opportunity to display their talents to the full.  Back with the full, rich guitar sound, the prelude was architecture made visible; the fugue’s simple theme became a multi-layered, joyful creation, with melodies wrapping themselves around each other and then joining together in chordal passages; the allegro was a burst of merry, rippling joy, singing loudly and then quietening into shining pianissimo passages. 

The conclusion of the Bach brought a storm of applause from the audience, who didn’t want to let Tim go.  His encore was sublime – I have no idea what it was but it moved me deeply: the long silence after the piece concluded indicates that everyone else felt exactly the same. 

My notes say hold it against your heart and sing through it – and this is exactly what Tim Beattie did with his guitar this lunchtime.  I hope he comes to the Brunton again soon – if he does, I’ll be there!

Tim Beattie, guitar, Music at the Brunton: lunchtime concerts, Northesk church, Musselburgh, RUN ENDED

Next month:  Ryan Corbett, accordion, Tuesday 11 November 1pm for more information go to: https://thebrunton.online.red61.co.uk/event/2814:600/2814:885/