Handel's Partenope comes from his last period of opera-composing when the Royal Academy of Music had gone broke and the Beggar's Opera had seen Italian opera seriaoff the stage for a while. It opened at the King's Theatre, Haymarket (on the site where, with some irony Phantom of the Opera is playing at Her Majesty's Theatre!) on 24 February 1730. By then Handel's style had changed a little. In the Academy heyday his most conspicuous talent was in depicting heroes in heroic mood with demonstrably flamboyant virtuosity. Some of this remains, but Partenope tells a more intimate story and Handel a simpler, and often sweeter, voice to depict the troubled loves of Partenope's suitors. Partenope is a comedy, a genre that Handel had not used since his Venetian triumph Agrippina. This allowed him a new lee-way in the succession of da capo arias by introducing some ensemble numbers. It marked a slight change of direction, which was also necessitated by having to cast many of the characters with women's voices as only one castrato was available, so the style may have been adapted to suit their voices as much as dramatic reasons. Whatever the case Partenope turned out to be a reasonable success with its seven performances and subsequent revivals. It is thus makes a welcome return to a new production at ENO.
       The cast was excellent, both vocally and in characterization. Rosemary Joshua was outstanding as the Nancy Cunard look-a-like Partenope, who in the original story is really a serial temptress, but in this production a cynical manipulator of her rival lovers. From the beginning her rock-solid coloratura was displayed with vigour, as in L'amor ed il destin. Rosmira, who is disguised as a man, was likewise magnificently portrayed in her almost endless confusions by Patricia Bardon. John Mark Ainsley's Emilio, Partenope's thwarted lover, made a suitably mock-tragic figure mixing sweetness and virtuosity in La speme ti consoli, for instance. Equally strong vocally were Iestyn Davies's Armindo and James Gower as Ormonte. But the show stopper, and thank goodness it stopped the show, was Christine Rice as Arsace. All the nonsense of the production melted away in the 3rd act with her "Chi'io parta?" when Arsace thinks he has lost his beloved Rosmira for the last time. All the singers were matched by deft orchestral playing and some neat if not always sympathetic conducting. Once or twice with attention diverted by the orchestra, the ensemble with the singers slipped and the rhythmic nuance that the best modern performances of Handel achieve was not always achieved.
      And now the production. This posed more problems than it solved. It was a good idea to shift the action and story away from classical mythology to bring out the perennial elements in Stampiglia's account of the founding of Naples. The opera is about sexual rivalry, disguises and the tensions of an inward-looking, upper-class society: a small group who mostly are set on playing havoc with each others' lives. They have little concern with the outside world and by setting the work in flapper Paris post-1918 Christopher Alden hoped to expose this social bubble set against the chaos of Europe in the 1930s. To reinforce this idea the production is suffused with surrealist paraphernalia, obviously hoping that nonsense would acquire meaning by association. Emilio, returning from the outside world, is the only character who seems remotely connected and affected by the outside world.
       Yet such an idea seems rooted in reading the opera as a play. The concept might work if the words were spoken, but Alden reckons without the music. Not only is there too much business while the music is articulating another story, but Handel's characters are not what is being exposed on the stage. Producing an opera without a keen ear for what the music is saying is a recipe for misconceptions, and these appeared in droves. Is Emilio really the one with the insight to photograph and by implication understand what is going on? Is Partenope really the gambling flapper? Only in the intimate scenes between lovers does the production really work, such as when they sit on the stairs and their interior lives are revealed by how they say what they say. When I voiced this criticism to a friend next to me, a woman in front whipped round and staunchly defended the production as 'fun'. Fun it may be, but is fun enough? Is Partenope really only about fun? No. This is too superficial, but then Alden's production seems ideally suited to pleasing such an opera-goer. Apart from the overall concept, some scenes seem too unlikely even for surrealism, which after all attempted to go beyond symbolism to the crazy world of dreams. Even so, would one ever get so vexed and upset that you would bury yourself in the hotel lavatory up to your next in unrolled lavatory paper? Such images are more distracting than revealing, just as is Emilio as Man Ray camera-man.
      Amanda Holden's translation was most witty and effective, though sometimes a keener ear for how words would sound sung, especially with the impeccable diction of all the cast, would improve. Somehow clichés such as "fortune favours the brave" (Fortuna fortes adiuvat) grate in a way that the liberal use of swear words does not. The characters would use these, but 'quotations' is less likely.
      This is a very recommendable performance of Handel's Partenope superbly sung, but don't bother to work out the action or the production. Don't be fooled into thinking pretentious fun is all there is to be had from Handel's masterpiece. Real emotions and situations pop out frequently enough for Handel and Stampiglia to win the day with their warriors the singers.
Roderick Swanston