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Conductor
Harry
Christophers
Director
David Alden
Designer
Ian MacNeil
Lighting
Wolfgang Göbbel
Choreographer
Michael
Keegan-Dolan
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English
National Opera
London
Coliseum
6
- 27 March 2002 |
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This
was the second revival of
David Alden's much praised
production of Handel's Ariodante
at English National Opera.
First seen in 1993 its impact
has worn well with its sense
of a crumbling civilization,
symbolized by bare brickwork,
foppish courtiers and a pervading
air of lust and corruption
marvelously illustrating and
interpreting Handel's, and
librettist Antonio Salvi's,
1735 masterpiece based on
a story from Ariosto's Orlando
Furioso. Many points in the
production magnificently reveal
the plot's nuances and characters,
such as the imaginative use
made of the dances which end
the first two acts. The benign
and malign dreams specified
at the end of the second act
superbly portray Ginevra's
tortured mental state as she
thinks all she had hoped for
has now been destroyed by
deceit and uncompromising
lust. Michael Keegan-Dolan's
imaginative and stylized choreography
is not only apt but beautifully
executed by the dancers. This
is the place where the play
within a play of the production
comes into its own.
This revival sees some cast
changes, the most notable
of which is the replacement
of a counter-tenor in the
title role by the mezzo-soprano
Sarah Connolly. She is the
outstanding success of the
evening. From the moment she
enters singing her arioso
"Qu" d'amor nel suo linguaggio"
she commands the stage, and,
as required by Handel's dramaturgical
style, she is master of every
situation. She appears both
physically and vocally the
commanding hero, and her telling
use of her rich lower registers
made her every inch a noble
prince. Sarah Connolly was
completely in control of all
the difficult coloratura her
role demands, but perhaps
her most striking characterization
was in the second act aria
"Scherza infida" for which
Handel's inspired orchestration
makes a feature of bassoons
to underline Ariodante's grief
caused by his thinking he
has seen his intended bride
Ginevra in the arms of his
rival Polinesso. Alden's production
requires Ariodante to sing
this aria sliding down the
side of the roof-dome from
which he has been shown the
deception. Though this is
a graphic portrayal of the
character's slide into despair,
or even perhaps near death,
I found myself closing my
eyes to imagine more powerfully
the desolation Sarah Connolly
managed to invest in this
slow, deeply moving aria.
No physical act was needed
to make obvious what was so
clear from her spell-binding
vocal portrayal.
Also
outstanding amongst the new-comers
to the production was Mary
Nelson who sang Dalinda, Ginevra's
lady-in-waiting, who, disguised
as her mistress, is the means
of Ariodante's being deceived.
Her dazzling vocal acrobatics
were not only outstanding
in themselves but completely
right for her frightened and
manipulated character. Paul
Nilon's Lurcanio, Ariodante's
brother, was similarly well
sung and characterized. Handel's
Dalinda and Lurcanio are the
opera's 'other lovers' who
in the end come together but
who during the story seem
driven ever further apart.
Unsurprisingly Handel drew
on stock characterizations
both for the proud Lurcanio
and for the confused Dalinda.
Yet as always he could give
each individual turns of phrase
and to these both Nelson and
Nilon respond with passion
and exuberance.
Catrin
Wyn-Davies's Ginevra was well
sung, but the vocal characterization
of what is almost the most
significant part was a little
too bland. Even her mad scene
seemed too like all other
mad scenes, and, though her
technical prowess remained
in tact, her character failed
to excite the sympathy it
should. She, after all, has
to move from the ecstasy of
her impending marriage to
Ariodante, through the despair
of her unjustified degradation,
banishment from the Scottish
court by her father and imprisonment
in her room to a recovery
of her ecstasy as Ariodante
is found alive and her innocence
proved. This is a tall order
and, on the evening I saw
it, not entirely realized.
The
most controversial portrayal
of all was Sally Burgess as
Polinesso, the villain of
the work. His eyes are set
on succeeding to the Scottish
throne (not the first in drama!)
and achieve this by stealing
Ginevra from Ariodante. Sally
Burgess decided almost to
over-dramatize this part by
using all the edge her usually
magnificent voice could muster.
Spitting words and almost
speaking some notes, she left
the audience in no doubt how
evil Polinesso is. Yet, this
made her portrayal something
of a caricature. She seemed
more like the witches from
Macbeth than a credible contestant
for the throne. If Iago is
played as the wicked uncle
in a melodrama then Desdemona
will be safe from Othello's
passions. Similarly here,
Polinesso has at least to
persuade the dazzled Dalinda
to work for him in the first
act, to convince Ariodante
that he is Ginevra's lover
in the second, and make a
show to the King of Scotland
that he will defend Ginevra's
honour in the third. He needs
at least some public respectability
even if in private he can
be as wicked and demented
as he likes. Sally Burgess
vocally made him seem bad
on all occasions and thus
robbed his character of subtlety
and credibility.
Musically
the whole evening was, for
this revival, under the new
hands of Harry Christophers.
Christophers's direction was
at its best in the slow scenes
where long lines and good
legato were needed. In these
his long choral conducting
experience was most telling,
and the English National Opera's
players responded in familiar
vein. In the more fiery scenes
his rather too cautious direction
rather lacked guts and energy.
This after all is an opera
not only about despair and
languid love, but about passion,
envy, lust and greed. It needs
a bit of hate as well as sympathy
and this Christophers never
quite achieved.
Ariodante
is one of Handel's last operatic
masterpieces, and, as the
excellent programme booklet
(compiled for the 1993 production
by the late and much missed
Nicholas John) indicates a
truly Shakespearean investigation
of the murkier sides of human
nature and conduct. Despite
having the necessary eighteenth-century
happy conclusion to show that
in the ideal world of the
stage good will prevail over
evil, Handel shows his real
colours in the portrayal of
characters at their most extreme
such as Ginevra in her madness
and Ariodante in his suicidal
despair. This is work not
to be missed in a revealing
production dominated by a
superbly performed characterization
of the title role.
Roderick Swanston |
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