Theatre Baby is a blog, to contain the archive of reviews that I have produced for The Reviews Hub and North East Theatre Guide, plus new reviews published under the banner of Theatre Baby.
Songs of the North East
The Phoenix Theatre Blyth
Writers: Tom Kelly and Graeme Thompson
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
Date Reviewed: 3 April 2025
Playing various dates across the region
Graeme Danby’s rich bass voice and strong characterisation has featured in countless opera productions, ranging from over 1,000 appearances with English National Opera, across the world to La Scala Milan. Valerie Reid’s flawless mezzo-soprano is in demand in both opera and oratorio, as well as the concert stage. Together with local playwright, poet and lyricist, Tom Kelly, and writer and producer Graeme Thompson, they have developed an evening of song to celebrate the music of Danby’s native Northeast.
This premiered at the Phoenix Theatre Blyth last night, with piano accompaniment from Andrew Richardson and a complementary video montage helping them celebrate the rich industrial and cultural heritage of the region.
Danby is proud of his Consett origins and the pair were great friends of northeastern songwriter Eric Boswell, famed for Little Donkey but also a prolific writer of both comic and lyrical Geordie songs. Indeed, this team put together an evening of Boswell’s songs that toured last year.
Though Boswell also features prominently in this production, the net is spread wider to include everything from Geordie Ridley’s and Joe Wilson’s music hall classics to songs by Sting and Mark Knopfler and one particular gem from Lee Hall and Elton John’s Billy Elliot. The married couple let us into their world with personal reflections on the importance of the songs to their lives. The narration, written by Kelly and Thompson, includes a good deal of humour, as well as adding insights into the cultural, industrial and social background to the songs. In the intimate atmosphere of the Phoenix, the show feels very much like spending a musical evening with friends, if your friends just happen to be consummate performers.
Both singers are natural musical storytellers, casting a light into every corner of the songs, effortlessly navigating the varied programme, from the rumbustious comedy of Keep your feet still Geordie Hinny to the plaintive yearning of The Water of Tyne. Of course, the evening includes many Geordie standards but there are some lesser-known delights like Boswell’s Bird Fly High, beautifully delivered by Reid, full of brightness and charm, and an object lesson in vocal control.
The modern songs also provided a counterpoint to the classics, as Danby, Reid and Richardson collaborated to deliver a rousing version of The Last Ship from Sting’s eponymous musical. Also, Danby’s deeply moving version of Deep Into The Ground from Billy Elliot will stay in my memory for a long time.
The evening closed with the thoroughly satisfied audience joining in with Geordie anthem, The Blaydon Races, the perfect closer for a hugely enjoyable night.
The Tour visits:
The Maltings, Berwick Friday April 4th Home – The Maltings
Consett Empire Saturday April 5th Empire Theatre & Cinema – Box Office 03000 262 400
Tyneside Cinema, Newcastle Sunday April 6th Tyneside Cinema – Newcastle upon Tyne’s leading independent cinema
Queens Hall, Hexham Friday April 11th Home | Queen’s Hall Arts Centre
Princess Alexandra Theatre, Yarm Tuesday April 29 th 7pm
The Customs House, South Shields Thursday May 8 th Homepage – The Customs House
The Exchange1856, North Shields Friday May 9th The Exchange 1856 | North Shields | Music | Office space | Wedding venue | Cafe & Bar
Arts Centre Washington Wednesday May 21st Arts Centre Washington | Sunderland Culture
Ponteland Methodist Church Friday May 23 rd
Redhills, Durham Saturday September 6th (as part of the venue’s opening programme)
Pygmalion
The People’s Theatre
Writer: George Bernard Shaw
Director: Tracey Lucas
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
Date Reviewed: 18 March 2025
The play runs until Saturday 22 March
Pygmalion is one of Shaw’s most enduringly popular plays. This account of a cockney flower girl’s transmutation into an apparent duchess is also the source material of one of the greatest musicals of all time, Lerner and Lowe’s My Fair Lady. Therein lie the challenges for all new productions. It is unlikely that audiences for the former will be unaware of the latter. Also, in the theatre, many of the greatest actors of each age have essayed the roles of the two protagonists. This is no accident, as both roles present opportunities for the actor to test and explore their range and skills.
Henry Higgins, the erudite but brisk and misogynistic dialectician, has also to display charm, lyricism and a complete lack of self-awareness. Eliza Doolittle, debuting as a grubby creature of the streets of Covent Garden must be sharply comedic with an indomitable spirit before revealing a delicacy and perception that sets her as Higgins’ equal, if not his better.
There are choices to be made here. Has Eliza, through her training, emerged as her true self, the lady she was born to be? Or is her apparently elevated station simply artificial and is she merely wearing her new-found language as a mask? What does seem indisputable is that her transformation has robbed her of most of her means of self-protection and she must work to develop new ones or be quite defenceless.
In a typically Shavian construct, Eliza’s father has also, albeit reluctantly, undergone a transformation from common dustman and ne’er do well, to a wealthy scion of the middle class. His natural rhetoric and persuasive philosophising also furnish the actor with much to get his teeth into.
In these three key roles, The People’s Theatre cast make a good fist of it. Jake Wilson Craw has a good understanding of Higgins’ character and displays the right qualities of intellectual fervour, irascibility and the air of an overgrown schoolboy. Daisy Burden makes a pert and lively cockney Eliza, delivering all the comic lines with gusto, though her youth leaves her less well-equipped to explore all the depth and nuances of the transformed young woman, dealing with all the difficulty presented by her ambivalent new position. It is true that Shaw puts Eliza at 20 years of age but the role has defeated many actors of more mature years.
Jack Thompson is an engagingly roguish and eloquent Alfred Doolittle and Jim Boylan provides gentle support as the mannerly and genial Colonel Pickering. Maggie Childs combines a queenly presence with amusing exasperation as Mrs Higgins.
It must be said that the lengthy first act passed quickly and the evening hardly lagged. On the whole, the playwright is well-served in this clear and straightforward production, though there was a degree of hesitancy in the dialogue at times, often a hazard of first nights when an immensely wordy script demands so much from its actors. At such times, I am always reminded of the luxuriously long run-ins and preview periods that professional productions receive before anyone is invited to make critical comment. Amateur actors have to be made of sterner stuff and one should never underestimate their courage.
I should declare in the interests of full exposure that I have played the role of Higgins three times, albeit in the musical, rather than the play. I have also been a lifelong fan of Shaw and of this play in particular, so my viewpoint may be a subjective one. What was clear last night is that the play was very enjoyable and was very well-received by an enthusiastic audience.
A costume note: Higgins may have little patience with the mores of high society, but I do not believe he would have worn red and yellow socks with white tie and tails. Such details may seem trivial but they are disproportionately jarring to an audience.
Hangmen
The People’s Theatre
Writer: Martin McDonagh
Director: Matthew Hope
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
Date Reviewed: 4 March 2025
The play runs until Saturday 8 March
Director Matthew Hope tells us in the programme that, “Martin McDonagh is well known for his dark humour, violence and blending of both the tender and grotesque.” This will serve as a good enough introduction to this black-as-pitch comedy about social attitudes to crime and punishment. The People’s have assembled a talented cast for this challenging play, producing some excellent performances and some striking and memorable moments.
Beginning with a representation of a clumsily-handled hanging, the play then follows the presiding hangman, Harry, to his Lancashire pub, where he pontificates and postures before a small chorus of dim-witted locals and an indolent Police Inspector. Ian Willis’ believable portrayal gives us all his pompousness and his underlying vulnerability. He feels keenly the fact that he is the second most famous hangman after the legendary Albert Pierrepoint. Comedically envious of Pierrepoint’s tally of executions, he asserts that comparison is unfair since Pierrepoint hanged all the Nazis after the war and Germans shouldn’t count.
Capital punishment has just been abolished and a local cub reporter has come to ask for his views. At first he stands on his dignity, pledging to keep his own counsel in deference to the ethics of his trade. It doesn’t take long, however, for him to open up and pour out chapter and verse on his history, the people he has hanged and some derogatory comments on his more famous rival.
Meanwhile, the routine of his pub life is disrupted by the arrival of Mooney, a mysterious and insinuating young Londoner. In scenes oddly reminiscent of Orton’s Entertaining Mr Sloane, he tries to charm Harry’s world-weary but decent wife, Alice, well-served by Alison Carr’s believable performance, into letting him a room. He twists and turns in mood and attitude, alternatingly charming and threatening. Harry’s fifteen-year-old daughter, Shirley, well captured by Holly Stamp, dismissed by her parents as a ‘mope’, begins to be fascinated by him.
Mooney returns the next morning with his references and makes a move on Shirley, offering to take her to visit her friend, recently detained in a mental hospital, or to the beach. His openly sexual approach to this vulnerable youngster is toe-curlingly unsettling. Craig Fairbairn’s nuanced but full-on portrayal doesn’t shy away from portraying the narcissistic, psychopathic qualities of the character, at the same time delivering on all the comedy.
Mooney is sent away after turning nasty when Alice tries to check his, presumably bogus references, but not before making plans to meet up with Shirley. After Shirley’s departure, Harry’s disgraced ex-assistant hangman, Syd arrives and casts doubt on Mooney’s motives, suggesting he may be the actual guilty party in a case for which they had hung the convicted man and may be looking for another victim.
The script makes considerable demands on the actors, requiring them to turn on a sixpence at times and veering from the realistic into the absurd or surreal. It is to the credit of the cast here that they handle these demands with some skill. Motives are often hard to decipher and, though there is considerable comedy in the piece, it sometimes feels as though it is struggling to settle into its own style, leading to some longueurs in the first act.
The second act gets quickly into its stride, however, with Mooney and Syd conspiring together in a tea room and we see that Syd wanted revenge on Harry for revealing his misdemeanours, which I won’t spoil for you, to the authorities. Glen Kingston’s Syd is a convincingly shabby and unappetising character, now overshadowed by Mooney as he previously was by Harry.
Things move on apace now and we are taken through the parents concern over their daughter’s disappearance, Mooney’s unaccountable return to the pub and some distinctly absurd business as Pierpoint, in a forceful cameo by the somewhat unfeasibly young Ryan Smith, visits to lambast Harry for his comments in the newspaper article. Meanwhile all the pub occupants are desperately trying to hide Harry’s taking the law into his own hands. By the end, all Harry’s borrowed dignity is effectively stripped away and, finding his level, he reconciles with Syd. This second act is really absorbing in its edginess and, in this tension, the comedy finds a new immediacy.
Throughout, the play parades the prejudices and attitudes of the 1960s where racial prejudice was the unembarrassed norm and homosexuality was still illegal. This serves as a lens to view present social norms and, perhaps, to ask us how far have we really come in sixty years.
This is all played out before an excellent set, giving early Coronation Street vibes, and to the accompaniment of an evocative 1960s pop soundtrack. All this contributes to a satisfying and thought-provoking evening’s entertainment, if not, perhaps, for the faint-hearted.
Top Girls
Writer: Caryl Churchill
Presented by: The People’s Theatre
Directors: Kath Frazer & Sue Hinton
The Studio, The People’s Theatre, Heaton, Newcastle 10/02/2025
Runs Until: Saturday 15 February
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
Caryl Churchill’s searing indictment of institutionalised misogyny and of the ghastly “me,me,me” culture of the 1980s is still as fierce, funny and poignant in this stylish and beautifully performed production by The People’s Theatre.
In 1981 Margaret Thatcher was two years into her eleven-year tenure at Number 10 and the yuppie phenomenon had come into being. The polarisation of society into the ‘haves’, who are fighting to have more and the ‘have-nots’ was being compounded by the dismantling of Britain’s industrial infrastructure.
Churchill’s special focus in this play is on the effect these social changes had on women and, to quote the programme notes, “whether it is possible for women to combine a successful career with a thriving family life..” It is depressing to say that it remains as relevant as ever.
In a surreal twist, to set a wider context, Churchill opens the play with a dinner party given by central protagonist, Marlene, to celebrate her promotion to Managing Director of Top Girls Employment Agency. Surreal because her guests are all notable women from history or legend, all but one of whom rebelled against the restrictions of their time.
They include Pope Joan, a woman who allegedly served as Pope for two years in the ninth century, though modern scholars believe her to be mythical, and Lady Nijo, a Japanese imperial concubine who left the palace to become a Buddhist nun. Also in attendance are Isabella Bird, a Victorian explorer and writer, and Dull Gret, who is famed in Flemish folklore for leading an army of women to pillage Hell, as immortalised in a painting by Bruegel. During a very boozy dinner, we learn how each of them paid the price in one way or another.
The final guest is Patient Griselda, a peasant girl from an ancient tale, who shows endless patience and forbearance for her aristocratic husband despite his appalling treatment of her. She alone receives a happy ending to her tale, albeit long-delayed. All these characters are skilfully realised by the actors. Anna Dobson’s Pope Joan is a particular highlight, bringing both comedy and pathos to a woman who lived as a man and had tragically little understanding of the body or the ways of women, even to the extent of not realising she was pregnant until she went into labour, thereby precipitating her downfall. Sarah McLane’s Gret brings broad comic relief, galumphing around in peasant garb, pocketing the cutlery and snatching drinks.
We are next introduced to Marlene’s niece, Angie, a vulnerable teenager with an idiosyncratic view of the world, and her weary mother, Joyce, struggling to make a life for them both in a rundown rural community after her husband’s desertion. Angie refers back to a visit from Marlene a year earlier. Marlene has not been back since and Angie wants to go to see her. Joyce seemingly does not want her to go and there is clearly a tension between the sisters.
At the employment agency, Marlene is late for work after her weekend of celebrations. Win and Nell, her two colleagues, are discussing their weekends. The brittle Win, in a note-perfect performance by Hayley Simpson, is having an affair with a married man and Steph Moore’s forceful but nuanced Nell is playing the field, whilst keeping a would-be fiancé at bay. Despite the gloss they put on things, there is no doubt that their freedom to ruthlessly pursue their careers comes at a price.
The agents interview a variety of prospective job candidates and each interview makes it clearer that that this is still a man’s world, that the only way to get ahead is to hide any interest in marriage or children and that youth and good looks are a distinct advantage.
Angie arrives to see Marlene and wants to stay with her. Marlene is less than enthusiastic. She is then harried by the wife of a male colleague who has taken to his bed after failing to get the job that she has landed. It becomes clear that he is taking things out on his wife and she wants Marlene to surrender the job to him. Unbeknownst to her, previous dialogue has indicated he was probably not even second choice. Marlene throws her out.
The final scene takes us back to Marlene’s visit to her sister a year earlier. The two stand on different sides of the fence, financially and ideologically. Socialist Joyce attacks her Thatcherite sister’s selfish pursuit of career success to the exclusion of her family. Marlene states her survival of the fittest mantras, without realising that her sister and her niece exemplify the very people her doctrine is condemning to poverty and despair. As she entreats her sister for forgiveness, it becomes clear that her victory is a hollow one.
In an impressive performance, Sara Jo Harrison makes Marlene into a believable monster, steering clear of caricature but still hitting all the high notes. Kay Edmundson’s Joyce matches her with a heartfelt and powerful portrayal. Myah Rose Wilson gives a strong performance as Angie, delivering the demanding dialogue with real maturity and Zoe Brissenden Lang does a great job as her young friend.
The People’s staging and costume teams have pulled out all the stops to evoke the 1980s, lurid make-up, big hair and shoulder pads all joyously in evidence. Neatly choreographed scene changes and a great 1980s soundtrack complete the picture nicely. An ideal production for the intimate studio setting, this is a notable success for the company, with terrific performances all round.
I know there is very limited seating but if you can get a ticket, I recommend that you do.
It’s A Wonderful Life
Writer: Mary Elliott Nelson
Based on the film by Frank Capra
Presented by: The People’s Theatre
Director: Anna Dobson
The People’s Theatre Heaton 20/11/2024
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
Frank Capra’s tale of a small-town banker at the end of his rope, who receives a striking lesson on what the world would be like without him, is one of the most iconic Christmas movies of all time. Based on an original story by Philip Van Doren Stern, it has been adapted as a radio play, a musical and even an opera.
This adaptation sticks pretty close to the movie but, to avoid unhelpful comparisons, the People’s have sensibly eschewed realism, staging the production inside a highly effective giant snow globe. Minimal scene changes are carried out in a fluid, well-choreographed fashion by the ensemble, in front of a background of Christmas trees.
Starting with central character George Bailey at the point of crisis on a bridge, we see two celestial figures, dressed as 1940s cabaret artists, orchestrating the intervention by Clarence, an apprentice angel who is desperate to earn his wings.
They run his story in flashback to brief Clarence for his task and we see the chain of events that wrecked George’s plans for world travel and ultimately wove him into the very fabric of his small hometown, Bedford Falls. As in the movie, a mistake by his bumbling Uncle Billy and the vicious opportunism of local slumlord Henry Potter leads to George being threatened with disgrace, and his despair drives him to contemplate suicide.
When he says it would be better if he had never been born, Clarence makes it so. Seeing the bleak outcomes that would have befallen his loved ones and friends without him, George comes to realise the essential part he has played in so many lives and that, after all, his has been actually rather wonderful.
Anna Dobson’s stylish, impressionistic production, together with Maya Torres’ movement direction, produces a smooth flow through the episodic script and hits all the right emotional notes. The first act has a lot to do in portraying a life so it occasionally lags a little, plus a little more attention to diction from some of the young actors might have been helpful.
Nevertheless, the second act delivers all the life-affirming sensations this enthusiastic first night audience were hoping for, sending every one out with a warm, fuzzy feeling and ready for Christmas.
Sam Hinton makes a believable George, his growing frustration and irascibility tempered by a warmth and a quirky charm. Tony Sehgal is an engaging Clarence and even returns to play a very polished violin solo at the end, presumably to celebrate earning his wings.
Steve Robertson is charmingly awkward as the hapless Uncle Billy, and Sara Jo Harrison is appealing and earnest as George’s understanding wife, Mary. On the dark side, Paul Carding is suitably bloodless and predatory as Potter, the apotheosis of corporate greed. As in the film, one regrets his not really getting a comeuppance, but I suppose the message of the play is, to quote George Herbert, ‘living well is the best revenge.’ And through these heartfelt performances, we are left in no doubt that George has lived well.
The play runs until Saturday 23 November. Tickets available from It’s A Wonderful Life | People’s Theatre
The Magic Flute
Music: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Original Libretto: Emmanuel Schikaneder
English version: Jeremy Sams
Presented by: Opera North
Director: James Brining
Conductor: Christoph Koncz
Theatre Royal Newcastle 8/11/2024
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
The Magic Flute is often described as one of the most accessible pieces in the opera canon. One reason for this is that it is presented in the Singspiel form, with sections of dialogue linking the arias. Another is the comedic subplot concerning the earthy and bumbling Papageno, the rustic bird catcher in search of love.
The score also contains the renowned aria, “The wrath of Hell..” sung by the Queen of the Night, which is a thrilling display of vocal pyrotechnics, testing the coloratura of the most expert soprano. Whilst both of these elements are delivered, in spades, in this marvellous production, one must not forget all the other delights.
The central plot concerns the quest by a young Prince, Tamino, to rescue Pamina, the Queen of the Night’s daughter, from the sorcerer Sarastro. Their love story is told in some of the most elegantly written and beautiful arias that it has been my privilege to hear.
In this production, Egor Zhuravskii brings magnetism and intensity to Tamino, together with his fluid, romantic and thrilling tenor. Claire Lees’ Pamina matches him with sincerity, warmth and an effortless soprano that could serve as an object lesson in control and interpretation for any aspiring singer. The synergy between her quietly soaring vocals and Opera North’s splendid orchestra, delicately conducted by Christoph Koncz, is a delight. It occurred to me that audiences accustomed to heavily amplified musical theatre performers would find this a revelation.
This company has strength in depth. Anna Dennis’ Queen of the Night, in black gown and headdress irresistibly reminiscent of Disney’s Maleficent, delivers all that is required from the signature aria, and it is a lot! Emyr Wynn Jones, brings well-judged dialogue and a beautifully-timed comic delivery, along with his rich baritone, to make Papageno a well-deserved audience favourite. As his counterpart, Papagena, Pasquale Orchard is perky and engaging, even delivering a little bit of tap-dancing!
Msimelo Mbali is a majestic and serene Sarastro, even if the extreme vocal demands of the role, descending to an unusually low F, occasionally test his lower register. Colin Judson delivers a zealous and amusing portrayal of lust and malevolence as Sarastro’s treacherous lieutenant, Monostatos.
Supporting roles are sung and portrayed with some style and the singing throughout is top-notch, with the majestic Opera North chorus rising to their accustomed heights. The three children who guide Tamino and Papageno on their quest were also excellent, harmonising superbly.
Colin Richmond’s imposing but flexible set and the splendid costumes together with inspired projections and Chris Davey’s innovative lighting design complement the production perfectly.
All in all, an entirely satisfying evening that combines supreme artistry with inspiration and the sheer joy of performance.
A side note: The costumes of the women in Sarastro’s temple, together with references to women needing to be guided by wiser men, bring some chilling echoes of The Handmaid’s Tale, which seem eerily current, given recent events across the pond. As James Brining’s production first appeared in 2019, that is presumably coincidental, but it adds to the thought-provoking nature of the piece. Whilst Sarastro’s leadership is established to be benevolent, the attitudes of his regime in relation to gender relationships would doubtless not be viewed in that way today.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Theatre Royal Newcastle 6/11/2024
Music: Benjamin Britten
Libretto: William Shakespeare, adapted by Benjamin Britten & Peter Pears
Presented by: Opera North
Director: Martin Duncan
Conductor: Garry Walker
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
‘The course of true love never did run smooth.’ Stated by Lysander, one of the work’s central quartet of chaotic but ardent lovers, this is essentially the central tenet of Shakespeare’s much-loved comedy. It is particularly true when Oberon, king of the fairies, high-handedly decides to intervene in the lovers’ affairs.
First seen in 2008, Martin Duncan’s immensely satisfying production sets the story in the 1960s, exploiting the parallels between the fairies’ magical potions and the psychedelic drug culture of that period.
This is a play of three worlds; the fairies, the aristocratic lovers and the comedic working folk. These are very clearly delineated by the music. The fairies have a shimmering, unreal, eastern-influenced score whilst the lovers have a much more viscerally romantic repertoire and the rustics a more earthy and ponderous sound. Puck, Oberon’s servant, does not sing at all, communicating in a rough, earthy voice, as befits his feral character. This is no fey, impish sprite but a disturbingly mischievous and bestial creature, somewhere between a satyr and a tumbling clown.
This delineation is reinforced in the costumes by Ashley Martin-Davis. Oberon and Tytania are gorgeously robed in shimmering silver, making them emphatically other-worldly. They are accompanied by an eerie choir of blonde-wigged children, clad in white but with black wings, portraying the rank and file of the fairies. Puck is a hairy-legged, bare-chested creature in crimson satin shorts. The male lovers are in richly patterned suits and their female counterparts in psychedelic dresses, giving a strong flower-power feel.
The plot is a foreshortened version of the play. It opens in the forest outside Athens. Demetrius was in love with Helena but has abandoned her to woo Hermia, her wealthier, higher-status friend. Against her wishes, Hermia’s father has ordered her to marry him.
Hermia is in love with Lysander so they have fled Athens, aiming to reach his Aunt’s house, beyond the control of her father and Athenian law. Helena remains steadfast to Demetrius despite his cruel rejection and has informed him of the lovers’ flight, so they pursue them into the forest.
Oberon, meanwhile, has become jealous of Tytania’s acquisition of a changeling boy to be her page and becomes angry when she will not give the boy to him. He plots to make a fool of her by making her infatuated with a highly unlikely paramour. Puck is despatched to bring him a magical flower, the essence of which causes its victims to fall in love with whoever, or whatever, they see on first waking.
The object of her affections is supplied by a group of working men who have come into the forest to rehearse an amateur play to be staged at the coming nuptials of Theseus, the Duke of Athens. Nick Bottom, the bombastic and self-important weaver, makes a perfect subject for Oberon and the tin lid is put on things when Puck gives him the head of a donkey, setting up Tytania for a most emphatic humiliation.
Oberon has also spotted Demetrius callously spurning the ever-faithful Helena and tells Puck to work the same spell on him. Puck mistakes Lysander for Demetrius and enchants him, thereby making him reject Hermia and pursue Helena. Trying to offset this, Demetrius is also enchanted so that Hermia is completely discarded whilst both pursue Helena.
After a deal of misplaced wooing where the lovers all lose their dignity and their fine clothes to disport themselves in their underwear, the fairies put everything right and the four lovers return to Athens to seek the Duke’s permission to marry. Oberon, having stolen the changeling boy, forgives Tytania and they are reconciled.
In the final act, the four lovers join their weddings with the Duke’s and the tradesmen entertain them with their hilariously inept production, before the fairies perform an ethereal finale.
All this is played out before a striking set, made of sheets of corrugated Perspex and a string of strange balloons. This is oddly effective and shines the spotlight on the performances, which are uniformly excellent.
James Laing is no stranger to the role of Oberon and his lyrical counter-tenor combines with his authoritative presence to make him every inch the fairy king. Daisy Brown oozes Hollywood glamour as Tytania and her luscious coloratura helps to gives her the ethereal quality demanded. Daniel Abelson gives a star turn as the non-singing Puck. Scrabbling around on all fours like a mischievous puppy, he conjures for me a cross between Lee Evans’ frantic comedy style and a winged-monkey from the Wizard of Oz.
The four lovers are suitably differentiated and appealing. Siân Griffiths’ Hermia is assured and seductive, with a flexible and embracing mezzo, whilst Camilla Harris’ Helena is sincere and engaging, with a sparkling soprano. They blend beautifully with Peter Kirk’s heartfelt tenor as Lysander and James Newby’s rich baritone as Demetrius. They also play up the comedic high jinks and the sexy undertones with some skill. Molly Barker’s Hippolyta and Andri Björn Róbertsson’s Theseus are also suitably authoritative.
The tradesmen are all well in command of their roles, and Nicholas Butterfield shines as Robin Starveling, giving an amusing drag cameo as Thisby in a role created for Britten’s partner, Peter Pears. Nevertheless, it is Henry Waddington’s majestic Nick Bottom that steals the show. A regular in this role, he has polished his performance to a nicety, developing a fully-rounded character (In more senses than one, given his artfully padded frame), with a range of nuances that mine every ounce of comedy without his ever overplaying his hand. His fulsome and effortless bass-baritone voice completes the picture.
A word of praise, also, for the highly disciplined and talented chorus of youngsters from Opera North’s junior chorus who bring great commitment to their portrayal of the fairies.
Britten’s music is emphatically modern but seems to draw on influences from early composers like Purcell and Handel. It works at all times to underpin, rather than overpower, the narrative. For those unfamiliar with the score, it is slowly seductive, with none of the flowery pyrotechnics or the heated, emotional arias of, for instance, Puccini or Verdi. It demands more of the listener but rewards the attention with some delicious harmonies and strikingly beautiful instrumental interludes, here in the capable hands of Garry Walker and the splendid Opera North orchestra.
Boeing Boeing
The People’s Theatre
Writer: Marc Camoletti
Translation: David Heneker & Francis Evans
Director: Steve Hewitt
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
Date Reviewed: 2 October 2024
The play runs until Saturday 5 October
The programme tells us that, “Boeing Boeing is the most frequently performed French play of all time across the international stage…”Set in the 1960s in Paris, this classic farce tells the story of Bernard, a smug playboy who juggles three different fiancées, all airline stewardess, from 3 different nations. He manages this through a detailed knowledge of all their flight schedules and the efforts of Bertha, his maid, discreet and long-suffering, but definitely not in silence. She knows to change the bed and cook the right cuisine for each fiancée and change the portrait on his desk.
His old friend, Robert, comes for an unexpected visit as he plans to move from his provincial home to settle in Paris and find a woman to marry. Bernard explains his methodology for keeping his life fresh and exciting and pooh-poohs Robert’s concerns about the logistical difficulties such a lifestyle presents. He is confident that his planning and precision can keep the trio apart. What he is not prepared for is the storm that is brewing and the arrival of the titular aeroplane which is set to shorten flight times across the world.
Thus, his perfectly crafted plan to have breakfast with his American hostess, Gloria, lunch with her German counterpart, Gretchen and dinner with the Italian, Gabriella, falls into chaos when all three threaten to appear at the same time. Whilst Bernard experiences a series of panic attacks, most of the burden of keeping the three apart falls on the hapless Robert, who is forced to endless levels of improvisation. Meanwhile, he is becoming smitten with Gretchen after she kisses him by mistake – don’t ask- and she gradually falls for him. Gloria is also intrigued by him, leading to an escalation of the chaos.
After a long round of carefully choreographed entrances and exits, as the three are shepherded through various of the seven differently coloured doors on Sands Dobson’s impressionistic set, the inevitable happens as Gretchen and Gabriella meet and a form of resolution, if not redemption, is arrived at. Throughout, Bertha’s trenchant comments make for some of the best lines in the play.
The piece is, of course, sexist nonsense and very much of its period, but it remains very funny. Farce is a specialised genre where the humour arises from the situation more than through funny lines, though this play has more than its share of the latter. Holding the audience when the plot strains the limits of credibility requires a slickness and a great deal of skill from the players. It is to the People’s Theatre company’s credit that they generally achieved this.
Sam Hinton imbues Bernard with just enough charm for the audience to tolerate his outrageous philandering and Cat White’s Bertha makes the most of the delicious repertoire of put-downs and expressions of exasperation the script offers. One of the reasons the play isn’t more offensive in its misogynistic attitudes is that the three fiancées are all portrayed as strong, confident women who know their own minds. So, though Ashton Matthews’ sassy and pragmatic Gloria, Francesca Rombi’s warm-hearted but mercurial Gabriella and Emily Jeffrey’s hilariously intense Gretchen are victims of deception, they are not credulous fools.
Conor McCready has a whale of a time as the initially naïve Robert, progressing from wide-eyed bewilderment to an advanced degree of cunning, combining a high level of verbal and physical comedy skills. Many of the comic set pieces rest on him and he shoulders the burden with ease.
It is necessary to take this play with a pinch – or perhaps a ladle -of salt. It represents the attitudes of a bygone era and it is not meant to be realistic. The people’s have therefore staged it in what they call, “an almost pantomime environment equally untouched by reality – and all the better for it.” This is understandable, and the scenery is appealing and functional, but it has the effect of removing it from its period. This is particularly so when coupled with the costumes, that owed little to the 1960s. For this reviewer, that was unhelpful. The stewardess uniforms also could have benefitted from more consideration.
The play also takes a bit of time to get going because of the need for exposition and developing the characters, particularly setting Bernard up for a fall, but the night starts splendidly with a very funny and apt flight safety announcement, delivered by the director Steve Hewitt.
In short, this is a very amusing evening’s entertainment with some splendid performances, well-crafted set pieces and a satisfying conclusion.
Things I Know To Be True
The People’s Theatre
Writer: Andrew Bovell
Director: Sara Jo Harrison
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
Date Reviewed: 9 September 2024
The play runs until Saturday 14 September
“This play is the world. What we have found doing this play, and what we hope the audience will experience, is that it is possible to stage something that encapsulates the universal truth of what it feels like to have a family.” The director’s programme notes serve as an excellent introduction to Andrew Bovell’s powerful, engaging and hugely relatable family drama. Sprinkled with humour throughout, it is almost Chekhovian in tone but with elements that would not be out of place in an Alan Ayckbourn piece.
The world of the play is a garden, expressionistically captured in the People’s Theatre’s embracing and intimate studio theatre. The garden is both the physical setting and a metaphor for the action of the play. The key events in the lives of the Price family over the course of a year are played out here as each season passes and the layers of etiquette, convention and self-deception are peeled back, laying bare the price each one of them has paid to be a part of the “dear octopus” of a modern family.
The play opens with a telephone call for Bob Price, the type of call, we are told, everyone dreads. Before he answers it, we rewind a year to where, on the surface, everything in the garden is as lovely as Bob’s perfectly tended roses. He took redundancy from a car plant at 56. Six years later he has constructed his own orderly and decorative world of neatly trimmed borders and well-pruned and regimented plants. The one thing he cannot bend to his will is the tree at the centre of the garden that irks him by making a mess with its dropped leaves.
His wife, Fran, works as a nurse and is the beating heart of the family. She relishes the element of disorder provided by the tree, as her wish for a wilder space echoes her yearning for a freer, more exciting life. Nonetheless, she holds herself in check with a steely determination, on account of her four, now grown-up, children.
We first meet Rosie, eager-to-please, open and childlike, backpacking round Europe and not sure why she’s doing it until she meets a beautiful young man in Berlin, who breaks her heart and sends her running for home. Her welcome home is illuminating, with Bob’s exasperation at her taking an unnecessary Uber, Fran’s instant diagnosis that someone has hurt her, and her siblings’ responses that nicely highlight their own characters and preoccupations. Nonetheless, this is no stereotypical model of dysfunction. All these people love each other, perhaps too much for their own good.
Older sister, Pip, is a successful career woman, with two daughters and a loving and responsible husband. Unfortunately, she is not in love with him. She carries the scars that Fran has inflicted over a number of years for not living up to her expectations.
The eldest son, Mark, gentle and considerate, is undergoing relationship difficulties and carries a secret pain that he is not yet ready to reveal, whilst spoilt yuppie son Ben is relishing the cut and thrust of corporate finance and conspicuously enjoying all the trappings of success.
As the year passes, each of the siblings’ inner worlds are explored, with outcomes that test the bonds of family to their limits. They are finally spread much wider apart, emotionally as well as geographically, while Bob laments the loss of the cosy neighbourhood family life, full of sleepovers and barbecues, he had always envisioned.
Fran has some revelations of her own to further unsettle him and then, ultimately, he must deal with the revelations of the telephone call…
This is a gripping drama that never hits a false note. Bovell is a skilled and insightful writer, who presents us with six fully-rounded characters, believably interacting throughout and I would be amazed if there was anybody in the audience who did not have many moments of recognition and empathy with the Price family members.
Sara Jo Harrison’s production never flags, drawing the audience in and holding their attention from beginning to end. Craig Fairbairn’s clever score is inconspicuously effective in punctuating and supporting the narrative.
All the cast give assured and well-judged performances. Steve Robertson imbues Bob with exactly the right mix of kindness, self-delusion, pomposity and uncertainty, bringing out the humour inherent in the role but never losing the essential dignity. Alison Carr is believably wounded and self-centred as Pip. Maya Torres is sweet and engaging as Rosie. Sam Burrell is convincing as the selfish and flawed Ben. Jay Hindmarsh deals well with the complexities of Mark’s life journey.
At the centre is Moira Valentine’s hugely impressive portrayal of Fran; passionate, powerful and complex. Mother of the Year or child abuser? A tender, loving wife or a self-serving pragmatist? Probably a bit of all of these but always triumphantly believable.
The People’s Theatre have brought their customary care and a great deal of talent to delivering a first-rate production of this beautifully written and, I would suggest, unjustly neglected play.
A note: The play is set in Adelaide, Australia; this is clear from the dialogue, while this company plays the roles in their own North-Eastern British accents. This jarred at first, but I believe it was a wise decision. The location is irrelevant, and the accents could have created something of a barrier for the audience. With this in mind, no doubt, Bovell adapted the script for the US production to locate it in the American Mid-West. Surely, something similar could easily be done for a British version.
All My Sons
The People’s Theatre
Writer: Arthur Miller
Director: Eileen Davidson
Reviewer: Jonathan Cash
Date Reviewed: 5 June 2024
Ann Zunder and Jonathan Goodman Photo: Paul Hood
All My Sons is generally accepted as one of the great plays of the post-war American theatre. Though perceived as secondary to Arthur Miller’s greatest work, Death of A Salesman, it is nonetheless a powerful drama, similarly highlighting the underlying falsehoods and dubious morality that lie at the heart of the American dream.
Joe Keller is a factory owner, who was exonerated in the court case that condemned his partner to prison, when their factory supplied cracked engine cases to the American air force, causing the death of 21 pilots. His wife, Kate, steadfastly maintains his innocence, just as she clings to the hope that their son, Larry, though missing in action for three years, will someday return.
Their good-natured son, Chris, carries his own survivor guilt from the war, having lost the platoon of soldiers he was leading. He is loyal to his parents and doesn’t question his father’s innocence, though not believing the myth of Larry’s survival. He has, as yet undisclosed, plans to marry his brother’s fiancée, Ann. The equation is further complicated by the fact that Ann is the daughter of Joe’s incarcerated partner.
Steve Parry and Ann Zunder Photo: Paul Hood
The play opens with the tree planted as memorial to Larry being blown down in a storm in the night when Ann has arrived to visit at Chris’ request. He plans to propose, and she is both aware and willing. His parents, however, have different ideas. Kate cannot countenance the idea, as it would mean acknowledging Larry’s death, and Joe finds it convenient to let her keep on hoping. As the four are trying to negotiate the situation, Ann’s brother, George, telephones unexpectedly to say he has been visiting their father in prison and needs to talk to her. Both the siblings, until now have refused to see or speak to their father. George says he is on his way to the Kellers’.
His arrival and subsequent revelations, test the relationships between the protagonists to the limit, exposing all the lies and delusions to which they have been clinging. Can the family survive when the facade has been shattered? In this, the play has echoes of J B Priestley’s An Inspector Calls, as well as more than a whiff of Greek tragedy.
The People’s Theatre have delivered an excellent production of this demanding piece. Eileen Davidson’s direction gives the script time to breathe, whilst maintaining a good pace. She is also blessed with an excellent cast.
Jonathan Goodman’s Joe has all the bluff heartiness of the self-made man, using his love of family to justify his ruthless pursuit of the mighty dollar. This is a well-judged performance, skilfully balancing strength and unacknowledged vulnerability. Ian Willis, as Chris, convincingly portrays the conflict of supporting, even honouring, his parents whilst suppressing his doubts and struggling to make his own life. Ginny Lee’s intelligent performance gives Ann a good balance of practicality and romanticism.
It is possible that Kate is the most difficult role. Needing maternal warmth and a large dose of blind self-delusion, she could become ridiculous and unbalance the piece. Ann Zunder, however, gives Kate an almost steely determination that moderates these qualities and makes her entirely believable.
As the neighbour, Dr Bayliss, Steve Perry is wryly amusing in detailing his struggles with his waspish wife, Sue; a role played with great style and gusto by Rye Mattick, clearly relishing some of Miller’s best lines. Steven Arran, as George, is credibly conflicted in the company of the Kellers, reverting before our eyes to the awkward youngster that Kate remembers whilst struggling to maintain his objective as an unlikely avenging angel.
Kaila Moyes’ excellent set convincingly conjures a yard in 1950s America and Robbie Close’s lighting design works well to complement the action and convey time passing. Perhaps some of the sound effects underpinning the monologues were a little heavy-handed but overall, the technical side was handled extremely well.
Given recent events at Boeing, the play has a new topicality, making this a smart piece of programming and this iconic play is in safe hands with this talented cast. It makes for an absorbing, thought-provoking and satisfying evening’s entertainment.
The play runs until Saturday 8 June.
Dad’s Army
The People’s Theatre
24 April 2024
To say that Dad’s Army is an iconic comedy series is an understatement. This much-loved programme ran from 1968 to 1977, was made into a film and even spawned an underwhelming copycat film in 2016. The show can still be seen daily on nostalgia-based satellite channels.
Beautifully written, by Jimmy Perry and David Croft, and superlatively acted by a first-rate cast, it was the epitome of gentle character comedy of a kind that is extremely difficult to imitate.
From this, you might discern that it is a brave company that sets out to reproduce these beloved characters on stage. You might be right in thinking, however, that of any local theatre group, the People’s Theatre would be the best able to do so.
On entering the auditorium, you could be forgiven for thinking you have wandered into the actual set of the series, so faithfully has the Walmington-on-Sea church hall been recreated. So then, will the characters be conjured as effectively? The answer to that is, generally, yes.
Steve Robertson’s Mainwaring brings the same pomposity and irascibility as Arthur Lowe’s original and Roger Liddle’s Wilson, gentlemanly and laid-back, is the perfect foil. David Cooper, with a splendidly waxed moustache, is an excellently doddery Corporal Jones, always one beat behind the platoon, and he starts proceedings with an engaging and tuneful rendition of the series’ theme song.
Mark Buckley is suitably louche and irreverent as the black marketeer, Walker. Joe McLaughlin is perhaps a little strong but nevertheless makes a good fist of the coddled mummy’s boy, Pike. Andrew De’Ath is suitably manic and delivers a convincing Scottish accent as the lugubrious Fraser. Steve Hewitt effectively doubles Private Cheeseman and the Colonel, though I got the impression from one or two lines that this has caused some slight script issues. Casting large numbers of men in any amateur production remains a constant challenge.
I have to confess that my favourite performance is that of Kevin Gibson as the gentle, soft-spoken and borderline incontinent Godfrey. Posture, voice, movements and facial expression all combine to hit the perfect balance between an impression and a three-dimensional performance. Though the other main characters generally strike a good balance also.
The play combines 4 of the tv stories and starts off with the hugely popular episode involving the captured crew of a German submarine. As I type this, I can imagine all readers shouting, “Don’t tell him, Pike.” Indeed, that eagerly awaited line drew a spontaneous round of applause on the first night, from an audience that clearly contained a large number of diehard Dad’s Army fans. Daniel Magee gives a strong performance as the sneeringly arrogant U-Boat commander. The rest of the crew are amusingly portrayed by a female ensemble, gamely hiding behind fake moustaches.
We move on to the episode when Mainwaring decides to bring some women in to assist the platoon and finds himself in a clandestine romance with Mrs Gray. Helga McNeil gives Mrs Gray all the charm and refinement that one would expect to bewitch the snobbish Mainwaring and the story effectively combines comedy and poignancy.
The third story introduces the platoon learning Morris dancing for a town pageant and the selection of a local woman to play Lady Godiva. Ann Zunder brings the right degree of effusiveness and gentle vulgarity to Jones’ lady friend, Mrs Fox. Mainwaring’s discomfort when he realises she thinks he is propositioning her is a joy to behold.
The final episode is more of a sketch, where the platoon, plus some others, are formed into a choir to perform the Floral Dance. This allows the piece to finish with a rousing chorus.
As a reviewer, it falls to us often to see a production on the first night, which is not always ideal. This play has a huge cast and a number of complex logistical issues to conquer and some of the characters have huge tracts of dialogue to learn. Perhaps as a result, this performance was quite tentative at times, with a number of fluffed lines and a slowness of pace that, I felt, hindered the delicate timing of some of the jokes. Of course, this is character comedy and the actors’ commitment to their characters helped to make up for this.
Nevertheless, this is an entertaining evening, with much to enjoy, and I must add that the audience clearly had a splendid time, judging from their response.
The play runs until Saturday 27 April.
Entertaining Mr Sloane
People’s Theatre Newcastle
20 March 2024
Writer: Joe Orton
Director: Matthew Hope
Runs until 23 March 2024
A polished, funny, thought-provoking, and professional production of Orton’s outrageous and iconoclastic sex comedy, with a splendid cast.
Alison Carr as Kath & Sam Burrell as Mr Sloane (Photo Credit: Paul Hood)
Joe Orton’s debut play remains controversial even 60 years after it was first produced. It was written in an era when homosexuality was still illegal, the death penalty remained in place for murder and having a child outside marriage was a scandalous act that would cause a woman to be shunned by ‘decent’ society. Against this backdrop, the extremely black comedy takes well-aimed potshots at the hypocrisy and self-delusion of those masquerading as respectable, whilst driven by appetites that they cannot publicly embrace. In reality, the ‘swinging sixties’ actually swung for very few, though it becomes clear that the eponymous central character of this play is happy to swing both ways.
The setting is a shabby house, located in the middle of a dump, presumably symbolising the underlying corruption in society. Kath, a somewhat dowdy woman in early middle age has encountered a young man at the library and she has offered him a room. As she pretentiously shows him round her shabby living room as if it were a stately home, a few things become clear. We see that she has designs on him sexually and that he is happy to play up to her if it is to his advantage. We find out that in her youth she had an illegitimate child that was put up for adoption when the father refused to marry her.
Of Sloane, we learn that he was orphaned as a child and grew up in an orphanage. That is to say, we are told this by Sloane. From the outset, we know better than to believe him. Sam Burrell’s pitch-perfect performance brings the audience into his duplicity from the start, alternately cooing and wheedling to help Kath believe what she wants to believe, whilst his facial expressions tell a much darker story. In truth, Kath takes little fooling as her own longings, both for her lost child and for sexual gratification, do most of the work for him.
When Kath’s father, the myopic and irascible Kemp, appears, we get to know more of that story. Kemp seems to recognise Sloane as the hitchhiker who murdered his late boss. Unsurprisingly, Sloane denies it. Kemp hits Sloane on the leg with a toasting fork, thereby giving Kath the perfect pretext for removing his trousers to dress the wound. When he goes to lie down, Kath scolds Kemp and shows no sympathy when he says that nobody loves him and that he is dying.
Completing the quartet, we meet Kath’s brother, Ed. He is a bluff and pompous businessman, though the nature of his business is never revealed. We have learnt that his father refuses to speak to him since he caught him involved in a presumably homosexual act in his bedroom, from the door of which, tellingly, Kemp had removed the lock.
Ed has come to tell Kath to get rid of Sloane, citing reasons of respectability, fearing a sexual liaison may come about which might undermine his, and her, reputation. Kath tells him that her interest is purely maternal and one feels, despite all evidence to the contrary, that she almost believes it. On meeting Sloane, Ed is clearly attracted and, after establishing his possible pliability in no uncertain terms, offers him a job as his chauffeur. After slyly negotiating the right deal, Sloane accepts.
The scene is now set for an uneasy triangular menage and it plays out initially as one might have predicted. Kath and Ed are manipulated by Sloane. Kath and Sloane are sleeping together, and he is also keeping Ed happy. Ed is constantly threatening to sack him for his misdemeanours, always relenting out of pretended generosity of spirit when the reality is he cannot countenance his departure. Meanwhile, Sloane is constantly mistreating Kemp, which leads to the climactic events that foreshadow the shift of power in the conclusion of the play.
Cleverly directed by Matthew Hope and in a masterful set by Matthew Baines, this production hits all the right notes. Orton’s text is notoriously complex and often playing on two or more levels at once. Realism would be death to the piece as the actions of these self-absorbed and amoral characters would be intolerable in such a setting. Hope understands this and the Pinteresque, non-specific dialogue is appropriately pointed. The elements of absurdism are also appropriately played to the hilt.
Hope has been blessed with a very strong cast. None of the roles are easy. Sam Burrell’s Sloane is a splendid creation. Humorous, plausible and ingratiating, he can turn on a sixpence to convey believable psychopathic menace.
Alison Carr’s blousy Kath also catches the mood perfectly. Sucking sweets and alternating comically unbridled lust with a coy mock respectability, she also captures the steely self-interest that lies at the heart of the character.
Mike Smith offers strong support as the unfortunate Kemp, the only character that shows any signs of a moral compass. Though it is his selfish unwillingness to come forward and fulfil his moral duty that has sown the seeds of his undoing. In this hotbed of sexual impropriety, he may be seen as representing the so-called silent majority, maintaining the moral high ground, whilst hypocritically reluctant to take any action.
Sean Burnside as Ed has perhaps the most difficult task. He does an excellent job of conveying the arrogance of the pompous, self-deluding businessman but he also has the challenge of conveying the non-verbal signals that denote a homosexual in the context of the times. A touch more lasciviousness in his dealings with Sloane would have helped underline this.
The audience was held throughout from the slower, more expository first act, through to the delicious resolution of the third. Effective lighting, props and sound design complete the picture of a highly successful and professional production. One small gripe; I’m not sure some of the men’s costumes were entirely of the period, but that is to split hairs.
This is a highly enjoyable and stimulating night’s theatre that fully lives up to the People’s Theatre’s enduring reputation for excellence.
Cosi Fan Tutte
Opera North
Theatre Royal Newcastle
14 March 2024
Music: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Libretto: Lorenzo da Ponte
Conductor: Clemens Schuldt
Lovers of Mozart’s finely crafted comic opera will need little encouragement to see Tim Albery’s masterly production, which has been in Opera North’s repertoire for 20 years now. Its continuing popularity is easy to explain; intelligent, intimate, humorous and clear, it serves the piece extremely well.
The production is set in a Camera Obscura, highlighting the fact that the plot is a scientific experiment being carried out by Quirijn Lang’s sardonic and authoritative Don Alfonso, a philosopher, setting out to prove that his two young friends’ ardent fiancées can be tempted into infidelity as, he asserts, can all women. Vowing to prove him wrong, the young noblemen are drawn into a wager and compelled to carry out Alfonso’s instructions for 24 hours to put their sweethearts to the test.
Initially, Alfonso announces to the ladies, sisters Fiordiligi and Dorabella, that the men have to leave for war. The sisters are devastated as the men take their leave in a display of slightly comic desolation.
Bribing the ladies’ maid, the worldly Despina, to assist him, he dresses the young men as mysterious foreign suitors and disguised in outlandish clothes and moustaches, the young men each set out to woo the other’s fiancée.
Through various twists and turns including their pretending to take poison, only to be revived in a laugh-out-loud comic scene by Despina disguised as a physician, using magnets, the suitors eventually make their conquests and are in the process of being married by a fake notary (Despina again) when the sounds are heard of troops returning. The young men retire hurriedly on the pretext of hiding, to return in uniform as themselves. After some heartfelt confessions and much distressed pleading, they reveal themselves as the strangers and all is forgiven. Don Alfonso has won his bet, and an element of realism and pragmatism has been brought into the idyll of romantic love in which the young foursome had been living.
Beautiful costumes by Tobias Hoheisel keep the piece firmly in the Age of Enlightenment. Initially the two men are in matching uniform and wigs and the two women are similarly costumed and wigged identically, as befits the subjects of an experiment. As the plot advances however, they become less formal and more individual as their characters emerge.
The quartet of lovers are wonderfully portrayed. A friend of mine once told me that young people are made attractive so that one can more easily forgive their foolishness. These singers have the youthful charm to engage the audience, despite their characters’ silliness. Coupled with this, they are highly accomplished soloists, all well-suited to their roles. Henry Neill uses his pleasing baritone to good effect as Guglielmo, the more sardonic of the two lovers. Anthony Gregory as the ardent Ferrando delights with his sweet, lyrical tenor, particularly in the naively romantic aria ‘Our love is a flower’. Both have good acting instincts and deliver nicely contrasting characters with a great deal of humour.
Heather Lowe is a winsome, beguiling Dorabella, the more coquettish of the sisters, with a polished mezzo voice. Alexandra Lowe as the more steadfast Fiordiligi has a real warmth to her coloratura as well as the range and skill to deliver a showstopping rendition of her aria ‘Like a rock.’ Both also give engaging acting performances. It is amusing that the two share a surname but, despite playing sisters, they are not actually related.
Quirijn de Lang is a charmingly cynical Don Alfonso, making the most of all the comedy in the recitative sections as well as lending his strong flexible baritone to the trio ‘May the wind be gentle’, sung with the sisters as the men leave for war. Gilene Butterfield is a warmly rumbustious Despina, coaxing the girls to infidelity with her down to earth philosophy, and genuinely comic as the physician and the notary.
Clemens Schuldt as conductor makes the most of the wonderful Opera North orchestra and gives this delightful score full value and nuance.
This is a triumphant production that would serve as a perfect introduction to Mozart, as well as satisfying his most ardent fans.
Cavalleria Rusticana and Aleko
Opera North
Theatre Royal Newcastle 13/3/2024
Pietro Mascagni’s melodrama, Cavalleria Rusticana, is a staple in the opera repertoire, with its Easter Hymn and the intermezzo being firm favourites amongst music lovers. It tells the tale of jealousy and revenge in late 19th century rural Sicily. It is credited with almost single-handedly introducing the Verismo style of opera, where the behaviour and speech patterns of down-to-earth protagonists is faithfully represented, in contrast to the loftier conventions of the opera that preceded it.
Transporting the piece to rural Poland in the 1970’s and presenting it on an ugly, brutalist set, director Karolina Sofulak has sought to strip the story of any trace of the Mediterranean rural idyll and focus in on the raw intensity of the human relationships portrayed. This is a brave choice. There is no Easter parade through the streets, merely voices heard singing behind the monolithic hardboard crucifix that serves to represent the church. Much focus is given to Robert Hayward’s Alfio’s Polski Fiat taxi that serves as his representation of status. Rationing and limited availability of goods is taking its toll on Anne-Marie Owens’ authoritative Lucia in the almost bare shelves of the delicatessen she runs with her son, Andrés Presno’s petulant Turiddù.
The period setting has to answer for the costumes, which are often less than flattering, particularly Presno’s baggy brown suit.
Turiddù, angered and upset by the desertion of his girlfriend, Helen Ēvora’s passionate Lola to marry Alfio, has seduced the very religious Santuzza, portrayed by Giselle Allen with the requisite stiffness undermined by anguish.
Lola becomes tired of her husband and takes up again with Turiddù and Santuzza betrays them to Alfio who swears revenge. Turiddù has a form of redemption, realising how selfishly he has behaved and how he has hurt Santuzza so he asks his mother to take care of Santuzza before going to his fate. No offstage duel in this case but an onstage mafia-style execution inside the car.
The setting may be marmite to some but there is no denying the quality of the singing or the commitment to the acting by the whole cast. Presno’s ringing tenor calls to mind the young Pavarotti on occasion. Hayward is powerful and mellifluous. Allen’s strong mezzo meets all the demands of the role and Ēvora’s soprano is clear and persuasive.
Opera North has chosen to couple the piece with Rachmaninoff’s one-act opera, Aleko, a much less frequently heard one-acter, also dealing with jealousy and murder.
This adaptation of a Pushkin poem about a love triangle amongst a group of gypsies is here imaginatively set in a 90’s hippy commune. Casting Hayward as Aleko, starting the opera in the clothes he wore as Alfio, a choice is made to suggest he is the same man twenty years on, having withdrawn from normal society to live a more bohemian life with his new wife, Zemfira. This of course, loads a lot of weight on the character before the story has begun. When Elin Prichard’s free-spirited and kittenish Zemfira betrays him with another man his resulting brutal revenge can therefore come as little of a surprise, though Hayward’s performance is nuanced and his singing is polished and emotive in portraying his anguish at being betrayed and later banished. Matthew Stiff is commanding but sympathetic as Zemfira’s father and, as in the first piece, the chorus are pitch-perfect and authoritative. Harry Sever draws a splendid sound and a huge range of colours form the magnificent Opera North orchestra.
From this presentation, I would suggest that Aleko deserves to be heard more often. From the enchanting intermezzo to the romantic duettino, ‘just one more kiss’ delivered beautifully by Presno’s unnamed lover and Pritchard’s appealing soprano, as well as some appealing choruses, the score has much to enjoy.
The juxtaposition of the two operas and the staging choices make for a very interesting evening, whilst reaffirming Opera North’s ability to constantly deliver something new and exciting, without compromising on quality of performance.
The Pearl Fishers – Concert Performance 17 June 2023
Sage Gateshead
Music by Georges Bizet
Libretto by Michel Carré and Eugène Cormon edited by Hugh Macdonald
Presented by Opera North
Director: Matthew Eberhardt
Conductor: Matthew Kofi Waldren
A superbly performed and effectively dramatic concert version of Bizet’s early opera, long overshadowed by Carmen but incorporating one of the most popular duets in the opera repertoire.
The Pearl Fishers, set in ancient times in the island now known as Sri Lanka, relates the story of two childhood friends, Zurga and Nadir, in conflict over their love for the same woman. She in turn has to deal with the conflict between worldly love and her sworn vow of chastity as a priestess. When Nadir and Leila are caught together, Zurga, mad with jealousy, condemns them to death. Later he discovers that Leila was the young girl who had saved him from captivity some year before and decides to repay the debt and save them. He sets fire to the pearl fishermen’s tents to create a distraction, allowing the lovers to escape.
Opera North’s splendid orchestra, seen here on stage with the soloists, under the baton of Matthew Kofi Waldren, gave a lucid and stirring rendition of the score. Perhaps the music is less polished and complex than Carmen but there is much to enjoy, melodically and in terms of the emotion generated.
The signature aria that introduces the two friends, ‘Au fond du temple saint’ is given full value by Quirijn De Lang’s, commanding and statesmanlike Zurga and Nico Darmanin’s urgent and edgy Nadir. De Lang’s rich, fluid, and versatile baritone blends perfectly with Darmanin’s thrilling and lyrical tenor, combining with the orchestra in a virtuoso performance. The theme of the duet is echoed throughout the piece at key moments of the plot, returning like a wistful memory.
The priestess and object of both men’s affections , Leila, is performed by Sophia Theodorides, her effortless soprano bright and warm across her range, with a sparkling coloratura. The quartet of soloists is completed by James Cresswell’s rich and resplendent bass as Nourabad.
Matthew Eberhardt, the director is to be praised for the amount of drama and storytelling achieved in a concert performance without the spectacle provided by set and costumes. The early part of Act 3, where Zurga laments the rift with his boyhood friend in ‘ô Nadir, tendre ami de mon jeune ȃge’ and his confrontation with Leila, come to plead for Nadir’s life, were particularly gripping. De Lang is popular among Opera North’s audiences and it easy to see why.
This was a truly enjoyable evening, giving an opportunity to relish the full, rich sound of a top-notch orchestra skilfully directed, and four world-class soloists at the top of their game.
The Pearl Fishers can be seen at Hull City Hall on 24 June and at the Royal Concert Hall, Nottingham on 1 July.
The Beekeeper of Aleppo
Theatre Royal Newcastle
Until Saturday 10 June 2023
The bestselling chronicle of a refugee couple’s physical and emotional journey is adapted into a moving drama, well performed by an engaging cast.
Adapting Christy Lefteri’s novel for the stage was an ambitious undertaking, for which Liverpool Everyman and Playhouse deserve considerable credit. The story ranges over several countries on its way from Syria to Britain, through numerous characters and involving a great deal of loss, hardship and emotional anguish. Nesrin Alrefai and Matthew Spangler, the playwrights, say in the programme that they wanted to steer a path between the demonisation of refugees and the reductive approach of painting them as idealised victims. It is fair to say that they have broadly achieved that, though they use broader strokes when depicting the attitudes and language of the state representatives encountered on reaching the UK.
The play starts in Britain so there is no suspense about the physical journey’s end but the point of the play is whether Alfred Clay’s Nuri and his wife Afra, played by Roxy Faridany, can endure as a couple and recover from the emotional consequences of their odyssey.
After their contented and successful life in Syria is destroyed by conflict, and after Afra has contracted psychogenic blindness, Nuri and Afra escape to Turkey with the help of the first of a chain of harsh and unpleasant people smugglers. We are unclear as to what has happened to their only child. From there they take a boat to Greece and are stranded in an Athens park until they enter into some underworld dealing to fund their onward trip to the UK. The incidents that occur here have a profound effect on their already strained relationship. Along the way, Nuri befriends a small boy who later unaccountably disappears.
Nuri’s cousin and business partner, Mustafa, is already in the UK, ending up in Yorkshire where he is able to resume his beekeeping life. A troubled Nuri has begun to lose his grip on reality, is distanced from Afra and avoids contacting Mustafa because he cannot come to terms with what they have endured and what he feels he has become.
Having survived the exile from his homeland, can he make his way back from this more profound, self-imposed, emotional exile?
The central characters are well-drawn, and Clay gives a convincing portrayal of Nuri’s descent into despair. Faridany’s performance is also strong and nuanced. Joseph Long makes an excellent job of portraying two contrasting characters; the warm, nature-loving Mustafa and the gently comic Moroccan man who is enthusiastically grasping the British way of life and its language.
Nadia Williams’ charismatic portrayal of Angeliki and Aram Marsourian’s sinister Fotakis are highlights of the strong ensemble’s multiple roles in support.
An effectively versatile set by Ruby Pugh, music by Elaha Soroor and Tingying Dong’s sound design are all essential to the flow of the narrative, as is Ben Ormerod’s lighting design.
Miranda Cromwell’s direction is fluid and helps flesh out the parade of characters, largely avoiding caricature.
Overall, the characters are engaging, and the production stops short of being harrowing, despite portraying terrible loss and suffering. Somehow, it does not seem to be as gripping as it might have been but perhaps that is because of the lack of jeopardy in the structure, which replicates that of the source work.
This is an incredibly timely piece of theatre, fleshing out the human experience of the refugee in a well-researched and believable way. In a country that has allowed itself to be manipulated into blaming all its troubles on those escaping conflict rather than those who are actually in control, the human story needs to be told now, more than ever.
Ariadne Auf Naxos
Theatre Royal Newcastle 24/03/2023
Music by Richard Strauss
Libretto by Hugo von Hofmannsthal
Presented by Opera North
Director: Rodula Gaitanou
Conductor: Anthony Hermus
A stylish and hugely entertaining blend of surreal comedy, romance and exquisite melody, beautifully performed by a stellar cast.
The concept of Ariadne Auf Naxos is somewhat bewildering; a grand opera troupe and a commedia dell’arte troop are due to perform on the same night for a wealthy and capricious patron, in this production the head of a movie studio in 1950’s Rome. To make time for the fireworks he has scheduled, the patron insists that the two entertainments be merged into one.
Divided into a Prelude and the performance proper, the work gives us first all the backstage action. This includes the despair of the young composer at seeing his masterwork bastardised in this way, the frustration of the diva at the undermining of her profoundly serious role, the glee of the commedia dell’arte troop at puncturing the pomposity of the grand opera company and the tenor’s temper tantrums over the styling of his wig. All this is tremendous fun, of course, and is played to the hilt by this versatile company. Also the 1950’s Italian setting allows for delicious costumes and the wonderfully cool vibe of Fellini’s heyday, much as evoked in the musical ‘Nine’.
Woven into this, however, are some lyrical and romantic melodies of real beauty, chiefly delivered by the young composer, sung by the wonderful lyric mezzo-soprano Hanna Hipp in the ‘breeches’ role. She evokes the audience’s sympathy as she falls under the spell of the perky comedienne Zerbinetta, a delicious performance by Jennifer France, a versatile soprano who sings, acts and dances through the piece, delivering her dazzling coloratura aria with great finesse. The third of the splendid sopranos, Elizabeth Llewellyn merely teases us during the prologue, leaving her moment in the spotlight to the opera proper.
The second half starts with Llewellyn’s Ariadne marooned on a rock by her faithless lover Theseus, with the spirits of the island dancing and singing around her. She dreams only of death and the arrival of Hermes to take her to the underworld. She is a virtuoso soprano of power and finesse and Strauss’s score gives her plenty of opportunity to demonstrate this. Again, in the midst of absurdity we are presented with great beauty, which is perhaps the essence of this delightful and enigmatic opera.
The commedia troupe, Alex Banfield, Adrian Dwyer and John Savournin, in setting out to cheer her up, show real comic skill and Dominic Sedgwick’s Harlequin is charismatic and engaging, as he sees his lover Zerbinetta being taken away form him by the composer. In the denouement, David Butt Philip’s tenor appears as Bacchus and falls for Ariadne, who ultimately accepts his suit and he rescues her. He is a heroic tenor of real skill and vocal quality and he admirably matches Llewellyn in their soaring and romantic duet.
Opera North’s splendid orchestra is under the baton of Anthony Hermus, who is well up to all the twists and turns of this quirky but ultimately, hugely melodic score.
This was an evening of sheer delight. Something that starts out as if it would deliver something in the manner of The Play That Goes Wrong becomes the opera that goes, in every way, supremely right. Setting the piece in the film studio was inspired and director Rodula Gaitano and choreographer Victoria Newlyn are to be applauded for the flawless performances they have elicited from their versatile and hugely talented company.
TOSCA
Theatre Royal Newcastle 23/03/2023
Music by Giacomo Puccini
Libretto by Giuseppe Giacoso and Luigi Illica, after the play by Victorien Sardou
Presented by Opera North
Director Edward Dick
Conductor Garry Walker
A tense and dramatic modern dress version, strikingly staged and sensitively sung, with genuinely chilling moments amongst the lush romantic arias.
Tosca is one of the greatest works of a hugely popular composer. As such, it has been continuously in the opera repertoire, providing a vehicle for many great tenors, from Caruso to Domingo and sopranos such as Maria Callas and Angela Georghiu. Always a popular success, it has had its share of brickbats from the critics, chiefly in respect of the plot. Nevertheless, the richly layered and stirring score contains some of the most beloved arias in all Grand Opera. The narrative is also richly dramatic and gives excellent performance opportunities to the characters, particularly Scarpia, the corrupt and priapic police chief, a plum role for a bass baritone.
This production is played out in modern-day Rome. The set design by Tom Scutt is beautiful and atmospheric. It features a domed painted ceiling, that the painter Cavaradossi is in the process of renovating in the first act, set around by spotlights and racks of candles to suggest initially the interior of a church. The dome is repositioned throughout, looking like a canopy in the second act, set in Scarpia’s elegantly modern bedroom and like a giant eye, as the castle ramparts for act 3.
The story concerns Cavaradossi’s relationship with the famous singer, Floria Tosca and the pursuit of her by Scarpia in the midst of civil unrest that Scarpia seeks to quash by capturing and executing the escaped rebel leader, Cesare Angelotti, who is being sheltered by Cavaradossi.
Scarpia manages to use Tosca’s quick and jealous nature to make her suspect her lover of infidelity, and lead to his arrest. Scarpia then tortures Cavaradossi to coerce her to betray Angelotti, which she does. To save Cavaradossi’s life, he persuades her to sleep with him but Tosca has other ideas, leading to a graphic and bloody outcome, stunningly staged.
Tosca then runs to Cavaradossi with the passport Scarpia has given her, telling him his planned execution is to be a sham and that they will flee Rome together. However, the police chief has one more card to play from beyond the grave…
The modern setting gives this production an edge, making the drama more immediate with genuinely shocking moments like black clad executioners in balaclavas, conjuring memories of the Northern Irish troubles and other recent guerrilla conflicts. Moments like Scarpia watching the celebrations outdoors on his laptop and filming Tosca on his mobile phone, work surprisingly well. Robert Hayward’s silky baritone and his imposing presence make for a very modern villain. No moustache-twirling caricature here but a measured and nuanced performance, showing the inner conflict between his sexual drive and his religious convictions.
Cavaradossi, was physically portrayed by Andrés Presno, though illness meant that he was unable to sing the role. This task fell to Luis Chapa, hastily brought up from London to save the show. The announcement of this brought some consternation from sections of the audience but they need not have worried. Singing from the corner of the stage, he delivered a sensitive but powerful performance of the score and one soon accepted the duality of Presno’s movement with Chapa’s voice.
If he was, forgivably, a little tentative at first, he soon hit his stride and his rendition of the climactic aria, E lucevan le stelle, was thrilling. He also showed real sweetness in the softer passages and blended beautifully with Magdalena Molendowska’s Tosca, no mean feat under the circumstances. Presno managed well in his thankless task of providing Tosca with a physical presence to work with.
Molendowska was a fiery but vulnerable Tosca, a true dramatic soprano with strength throughout her range and a ringing top register. Delivering the signature aria, Vissi d’arte from a recumbent position, as has become almost customary, would test any soprano and she was more than up to the task.
Callum Thorpe, a memorable poacher from Tuesday’s Cunning Little Vixen, showed his versatility in a richly sung cameo as the harried Angelotti.
Edward Dick has delivered a gripping and dramatic production, convincingly acted and genuinely memorable. Opera North’s chorus provided splendid support with moments of great impact and the marvellous orchestra, sensitively led by Garry Walker, gave the beloved score full value.
There are further performances on Saturday 25 March at 19.00 in Newcastle, and 30 March and 1 April at Hull New Theatre.
The Cunning Little Vixen
Theatre Royal Newcastle 21/03/2023
Music and text by Leoš Janáček
Revised version by Jiri Zahrádka
Presented by Opera North
A visually stunning, amusing and earnestly sung presentation of a capricious and charming opera, underpinned by a splendid orchestra
The Cunning Little Vixen tells the story of a fox cub that a forester unsuccessfully tries to domesticate, her escape and her subsequent exploits, set against the prosaic lives of the human villagers.
For those raised on the romantic Italian opera greats like Puccini (whose classic, Tosca, is to be presented by Opera North on Thursday this week) and Verdi, Janáček’s pastoral romp presents some challenges. Comprising a cast of animals and humans, and looking in this production for all the world like The Wind In The Willows, this is nonetheless a distinctly adult piece. The composer saw it as satire and there is a sprinkling of Marxist rhetoric running through the relationships between the animals. Also, it is clear in its representation of the difference between the hidebound humans and joyous animals in their attitudes to sex. Though both are seen to be capable of prudery and judgemental gossip.
Musically, also, this is a distance away from 19th century Grand Opera. The vocals are chiefly used to tell the story rather than presenting soaring arias. The most exultant and persuasive melodies are chiefly kept in the instrumental sections that intersperse the singing. The point where the two come together most satisfactorily is in the climax where the forester, mourning the vixen and his own lost youth, has a revelation of the continuity of life and his own place in the scheme of things. The orchestra, splendid throughout under the direction of Oliver Rundell, came into its own here, relishing the rapturous, life-affirming melody, just as they had illuminated the folksy interpolations in the earlier acts.
The set, by Maria Björnson, who also designed the costumes, is an undulating hillside with cushions serving as greenery and hatches to represent the animals’ underground refuges. This opens to reveal a central room, used to accommodate the human scenes. Glorious as the set is, it presents challenges for the ballet dancers who punctuate the scenes that represent the passing of the seasons. They are chiefly restricted to attitudes and poses, rather than fluid movements. It does, however, present lots of fun in the scenes where it has snowed and the inebriated human characters are staggering and tumbling all around. The colourful and richly textured animals’ costumes, though not always immediately self-explanatory, are inventive and charming. In contrast, the human costumes are effectively dull and monochrome. A particular pleasure was the pompous, posturing cockerel and his overstuffed harem of hens.
As the forester, Richard Burkhard displayed a polished, pleasing baritone and acted the role convincingly. Paul Nilon gave a comedic but touching portrayal of the lovelorn schoolmaster and Henry Waddington was a suitably lugubrious and disagreeable parson. Callum Thorpe’s rich and creamy baritone gave a charm to the rascally poacher Harašta, ultimately responsible for the vixen’s demise. An ensemble of children worked well to portray the smaller animals throughout.
Elin Pritchard’s vixen was a full throated and full-blooded performance; mischievous, physical and humorous, as well as being coquettish and prudish by turns in her relationship with Heather Lowe’s delightful Fox.
As one would expect from Opera North, this difficult score is performed expertly and with great feeling. The direction by Sir David Pountney, who also wrote the English translation, brought out the characterisations and made the most of both the comedy and the more serious emotions.
This all makes for a fascinating and memorable evening. There are performances on 22 March at 13.00 in Newcastle and 29 and 31 March at Hull New Theatre.
Orpheus
Presented by Opera North
At the Theatre Royal Newcastle
5 November 2022
Music by Claudio Monteverdi and Jasdeep Singh Degun
Italian text by Alessandro Striggio
Translations by Ustad Dharambar Singh MBE and Shahbaz Hussain
Directed by Anna Himali Howard
Musical direction by Laurence Cummings and Jasdeep Singh Degun
Following their excellent concert version of Gluck’s Orfeo Ed Eurydice, its companion piece is an imaginative combination of Monteverdi’s original score with original music in the classical style of South Asia. A company that combines western opera soloists with South Asian singers performs the traditional story, shifting back and forth between the two idioms. In general, Monteverdi’s arias are sung by the western singers and Jasdeep Singh Degun’s by the Asian performers, though there are choral sections when the company sing as one. The Asian performers sing in a combination of Hindi and Urdu, each using their own language.
Set in the garden of a terraced house, the production opens as the guests are arriving for, appropriately enough, an interracial wedding, richly coloured sarees and sherwanis mixing with suits and fascinators. All the musicians are on the stage, which seems natural enough for a celebration. Nicholas Watts as Orpheus marries Ashanaa Sasikaran’s Eurydice, resplendent in traditional bridal red and gold and there is much celebratory singing as everyone wishes them well. Orpheus and Eurydice go to the temple to offer prayers.
Orpheus later returns and he is singing of his joy as the guests join with him, only to have the mood shattered when Silvia, Eurydice’s best friend appears with the news of Eurydice’s death by snakebite. She is carrying the vivid red saree, which she hands to Orpheus.
Overwhelmed by grief, Orpheus refuses to accept his loss and determines to go to the underworld to bring her back, strewing the Saree across the stage to represent the River Styx as the curtain falls on the first half.
The curtain opens on Nambikkai (Hope, leading Orpheus to the Land of the Dead. The backdrop of the house has been replaced with black. She can go no further and leaves him to continue alone, to his consternation. He then uses music to lull the boatman, Kaviraj Singh’s Caronte, to sleep as he cannot persuade him to let him pass. Meanwhile, touched by his plight, Proserpina persuades Pluto, sung by Dean Robinson to allow Eurydice to return to earth. He says she can do so as long as Orpheus does not look at her until he has led her out of the Land of the Dead.
Orpheus sets out with Eurydice but finds he cannot believe she is following him and turns to see her, whereupon she is lost to him.
In a striking ‘coup de theatre’, The black curtain falls to show the house and he is back in the garden, as before. He is devastated and does not know how to go on but Apollo, portrayed as a guru by Kirpal Singh Panesar, comes to him and persuades him to be more philosophical in order to endure.
Unlike Gluck’s treatment of the myth, there is no tacked-on happy ending. This version is true to the original myth.
During the first half, it was slightly difficult for me to adjust to the switching between the two musical styles, particularly since the Asian style of singing tends to be ‘swimming between notes’ rather than stepping and at times the improvisatory nature of it seemed more akin to jazz riffs than Monteverdi’s, more formal, score. However, this had become easier by the second half, eased by the heartfelt and deeply affecting singing of Yarlinie Thanabalasingam’s Nambikkai and Nicholas Watts’ sweet lyrical tenor. Ashnaa Sasikaran’s Eurydice was beautifully sung, romantic and touching. In one of the most effective scenes, Chandra Chakraborty was spellbinding as Proserpina, with a polished and sweet vocal tone and bewitching hand movements. It is unsurprising that Dean Robinson’s masterful Pluto succumbed to her entreaties.
Kezia Bienek gave us an assured and touching portrayal of Silvia and Kirpal Singh Panesar’s Apollo was warm and serene, demonstrating his artistry as singer and musician. The entire company was strong, working as a well-integrated ensemble.
By the end, the two cultures had been successfully woven together in a rich musical tapestry. What was particularly evident was how beautifully the instruments from one culture accompanied the singing of the other, illuminating the music in a special way.
This is a bold experiment, successful because of the skill of this highly accomplished cast and the sensitive way in which Dharambir Singh MBE, Laurence Cummings and Jasdeep Singh Degun have respected both the story and the two cultural traditions. It is to be hoped that this exciting cross-cultural venture inspires other companies to follow suit.
Orfeo Ed Eurydice
Presented by Opera North
At the Theatre Royal Newcastle
4 November 2022
Music by Cristoph Willibald Gluck
Libretto by Raniero De’ Calzabigi
Conducted by Laurence Cummings
Concert Placing by Sophie Gilpin
The story of Orpheus and Eurydice is as old as time. Notes from the late Hilary Mantel, in the programme, tell us it was already old when it was recorded by Ovid. Its first incarnation as an opera was in 1600 and it went through multiple incarnations before Monteverdi’s version became what many believe to be the first great opera. Gluck’s interpretation came in 1762 and it has remained in the repertoire of opera companies around the world ever since.
Gluck and his collaborators were keen to move away from the heavily ornamented rococo style that characterised the Baroque period, where much of opera seemed to have become more of a showcase for the singers’ skills than a celebration of the music and its emotional core.
In the manner of the neo-Classical period, Gluck was seeking what he called ‘a beautiful simplicity.’ That he achieved it is demonstrated by the opera’s longevity. Consequently, this is not a score full of fireworks and exaggerated vocal virtuosity; it relies on the simple lyrical beauty of the melodies and the emotions conveyed by the performers to capture the audience.
Opera North has a long association with the story, having presented numerous versions over the last 20 years, ranging from the traditional to the radically re-imagined. This production was a staged concert, omitting the dance sequences that pepper the opera and bringing the focus squarely onto the music. This seems an eminently sensible way of serving the spirit of the composer.
The central platform from the production of ‘La Traviata’ served as an effective minimal form of staging. The chorus were in black and the soloists wore modern clothes that are evocative of their roles. Unlike previous staged concerts, the orchestra remained in the pit, with the harp in solitary splendour on the stage, presumably as a symbol of the lyre played by Orfeo.
Baroque specialist, Laurence Cummings conducted Opera North’s wonderful orchestra with great sensitivity, carefully bringing out the beauty of the music, whilst interweaving expertly with the soloists and the splendid chorus. It was a joy to hear traditional instruments like the harpsichord and the cornett. A very different instrument from the modern cornet, as was explained to me by my brass-playing companion.
The soloists were highly skilled and superbly attuned to the style and emotion of the piece. As Orfeo, Alice Coote, one of our pre-eminent mezzo sopranos, showed all her quality. Lyrical, fluid and heartfelt, she carried the main burden of the evening with little apparent effort. Impressively in control of her instrument, she gave a performance of real strength and controlled virtuosity. ‘Che faro senza Eurydice’, the signature aria, was movingly rendered and the duet section with Fflur Wynn’s sparkling and earnest Eurydice, as she seeks to make Orfeo show his love, was almost unbearably poignant.
Completing the trio of soloists in this somewhat stripped-back opera was Daisy Brown, an authoritative Deus ex Machina as Amore, with presence and a flexible and appealing voice.
The key word for me about the evening was balance; between music and story, between singers and orchestra, all serving the piece, and the audience magnificently.
This piece is in repertoire with Orpheus, a melange between Monteverdi’s opera and Indian classical music. I will be fascinated to see how the two pieces inform and illuminate each other.
Finally, I must acknowledge my debt in writing this review to the erudite and informative programme notes by Stuart Leeks and George Hall.
La Traviata
By Giuseppe Verdi
Produced by Northern Opera
At Theatre Royal Newcastle
Reviewed 1 November 2022
Runs until 3 November 2022 and touring thereafter
Based on Dumas’ La Dame Aux Camélias, La Traviata premiered in 1853 and has long been a favourite with audiences. As a tale of true love in the midst of decadence and debauchery, the story of Violetta, the bewitching courtesan who sacrifices her happiness for the sake of the man she loves continues to hold audiences in thrall. Verdi’s music, of course, is an important part of the enduring appeal of this version of the story.
The score was in safe hands here, with Opera North’s splendid orchestra and Jonathan Webb’s sensitive conducting.
Alfredo, a young man of solid Provençal family is besotted with Violetta, a celebrated Parisian courtesan, and has been calling daily for news of her, knowing she has been unwell. They meet at a decadent party to celebrate her recovery and he declares his love. She teases him but is touched by his sincerity and despite her protestations that she is destined for a life of pleasure, they leave Paris behind for a quiet life together in the country. Alfredo’s father visits her and begs her to give Alfredo up for the sake of his sister’s marriage plans and his own respectability. There follows a chain of tragic events leading up to her eventual death after a last-minute reunion with Alfredo.
In this performance, Violetta was sung by Alison Langer in a performance of great charm and skill. She combined apparent worldliness and a vivacity to justify the adoration of the Parisian demi-monde with an underlying innocence and a paradoxical purity. Her voice is more than a match for this demanding role, controlled and effortless whether in the quietest passages or in the full flow of the celebrated arias that punctuate the piece.
Nico Darmanin’s Alfredo is dashing and convincingly romantic with a strong, lyrical, tenor; at times caressing the notes, at times delivering them in a full, ringing but never strident tone. Their voices blend beautifully, to poignant effect, particularly in the tragic final act.
Damiano Salerno is believable and sympathetic as Alfredo’s conflicted father, with a strong, fluid baritone voice. The supporting cast are consistently good. The chorus do excellent work both dramatically and musically and Madeleine Boyd’s sumptuous costumes and imaginative set provide the perfect setting.
Past productions have sometimes sanitised the narrative to some extent, glossing over the more lascivious elements and glamourising the heroine’s illness. Alessandro Talevi’s production does not shrink from showing the underbelly of Parisian society, with hints of polyamory and lesbianism, though there is nothing so graphic as to offend the average opera-goer. Similarly, when Violetta enters her final illness, she is shown as believably feverish and frail, even with blood on her pillow, showing the advanced state of her tuberculosis. I am not sure, however, that we needed the cartoon-like graphic before the final act, showing her lungs being consumed by the disease.
In all, this is an accessible and stylish production, elegantly balancing the needs of the music and the drama, making for a thrilling and memorable evening.