Something between a sigh and a gasp slipped from the audience as the curtain raised on this production of Mozart’s Idomeneo. There was undoubtedly disappointment for some was that this rarely performed masterpiece was presented to us in modern dress but there was also delight that it was a set of breathtaking architectural poise and balance. Idomeneo’s Cretan Palace was an achingly hip hotel and we were looking a stage in cinemascope, raised, foreshortened and creating the illusion of stretching the scene from left to right. Shipwrecks, Poseidon and sea monsters are to be expected in Idomeneo and in the middle of the back of the stage, framed by modern marble walls was an enormous window onto a rippling azure ocean view. The sea itself, due to some outlandish video conjuring from Fifty Nine Productions, constantly moves with breakers splashing up spume from an unseen sea wall.
Idomeneo was the young Mozart’s first Opera Seria, it comes before the great run of Nozze di Figaro, Don Giovanni and the rest and, though the score is fabulous and there are some extraordinarily sensitive arias in the third act, it remains unpopular with modern companies. It lacks the playfulness of Nozze or the humour of Cose fan Tutti and it is extraordinarily static, which must explain why this its first outing at the ENO for nearly fifty years. The opera can appear like a series of tableau in which there is little for the performers to do but stand, or more commonly in this production – sit, and sing. Katie Mitchell’s bold response to the challenge of the libretto is to introduce action around the performers: cleaners, waiters, mandarins and the constantly rolling video sea all do their bit to add a sense of movement and turn back a turgid tide in the staging of this all but forgotten opera. Sadly, the staging does often distract from the main action, and sometimes worse.
      The opera opens with Sarah Tynan’s Ilia sitting on stylish sofa, on which she remains rooted whilst a stream of suited extras enter stage left or right and proceed across the field of vision, the trajectory of their passage accentuated by the letter box shaped stage. She is the daughter of King Priam and is a captive here after the Trojan Wars and finds herself excruciating over an unexpected love for the son of her father’s enemy. Tynan brings an adept sensitivity to role but the bizarre busyness of the Cretan court deflects from the seriousness of her predicament. Something similar happens in the Third Act when Robert Murray’s Idamante implores her to requite his love. The son of the Cretan King has been driven to the edge of reason by his father’s refusal to demonstrate any affection for him, feels imprisoned by his passion for Ilia and is about to throw himself into exile. These high sentiments and beseeching energy are rendered ludicrous by the unexpected bathos of a constant passage of oblivious waiters. What kind of a palace is this where the Prince can’t declare his love at full volume without someone turning up to take an order for biscuits and cheese? Unsurprisingly, Robert Murray never achieves the heroic stature needed to give this opera its dramatic force, an effect further heightened by the spoilsport decision to cut out the sea monster he is supposed to kill and replace it with some noxious fumes.
      Paul Nilon as Idomeneo brings an impressive technical mastery to the challenging Fuor del Mare and is rewarded by spontaneous applause. Edward Gardner conducting offers a darkly dramatic rendering of the score which causes the blood to surge; but it is Emma Bell with her dangerous, tempestuous, covetous Electra who truly rings out from what is otherwise a noble but misguided attempt to grapple with the challenges of the opera. Electra is a refugee from another more bloody story and is hanging around in Crete in the vain hope of getting lucky with the Prince. She is a decidedly peripheral character but the verve Emma Bell brings to the role, sending back a corked bottle whilst singing an aria, scaring the waiters, drinking too much and her attempts to seduce with her direct, clear and richly coloured voice puts her centre stage. Ultimately, in the absence of the sea monster and with a preponderance of walk-on waiters, it is her performance which most excites.
Charlie Taylor