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Music
&
Libretto by
Ralph
Vaughan
Williams
Director
Ian Judge
Conductor
Oleg Caetani
Falstaff
Andrew Shore
Ford
Alastair
Miles
Mistress
Ford
Jean Rigby
Page
Russell Smythe
Mistress
Page
Marie McLaughlin
Anne
Page
Sarah Fox
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English
National Opera
2
March - 1 April 2006 |
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Some
might quibble that a less
than landmark opera in the
shape of 'Sir John in Love'
by quintessentially English
composer, Ralph Vaughan Williams
is not worthy of the current
revival at the Coliseum, given
that it has not been performed
since 1958 andÝwas onceÝwritten
off as parochial. Others would
take a more supportive view.
Perhaps this is exactly what
should be venerated by the
ENO given the current crisis
of domestic confidence - which
has seen the venerable institution
rattling from appointment
to disappointment, losing
sight of its patriotic brief
and modus operandi.
This is a dream of England:
where regional accents - however
unlikely - prevail; folk-songs
are remembered and classic
themes revered - indeed, Henry
VIII's attributed composition
'Greensleeves' is never lovelier
than in this Vaughan Williams
arrangement. The time frame
is Edwardian - the cast's
genteel dress and pastimes
evoking long, bucolic summer
days of croquet, cream teas
and contentment. True, there
is an element of burlesque
as the tale ricochets from
subterfuge to imbroglio and
one is hard-pressed to transcend
the farcical (howeverÝfamiliar
with Shakespeare's 'Merry
Wives of Windsor' upon which
the opera is loosely based)
let alone suspend disbelief.
In spite of this, the action
rolls with gusto, optimism
reigns and the audience, contra
mundi, appear to engage with
this new production.
Unfortunately, the first act
is flawed (almost a forgone
conclusion, as it is conspicuously
the weaker half) because the
staging is too fussy. It muddles
along, but is overly concerned
with set changes - time and
time again, two timbered,
tudor skeleton buildings are
dragged around in largely
superfluous scene shifts.
A pity, because when stationary,
the effect is pleasing. Thus
the action lags, but is not
without merit as it manages
to convey the bones of the
story: the blustering humour
of guest artist Andrew Shore's
Sir John (he is a veteran
of Verdi's Falstaff) and his
pursuit of wealthy, married
Mistress Ford and Mistress
Page (Jean Rigby and Marie
McLaughlin). The latter's
daughter (a slightly matronly
Sarah Fox, perhaps not the
nonpareil Shakespeare had
in mind) is fighting off suitors
of her own and trying to stand
her ground in the face of
parental pressure. Conducter
Oleg Caetani is a little timorous
to begin with, but gathers
momentum later in the evening
when he elicits fine performances
from the orchestra, and probably
has better material to work
with. Above the stage, the
controversial surtitles appear,
slightly delayed at the request
of the director to protect
the comedic element. Although
helpful, the practically phonetic
renderings of dialect can
be irritating at times.
While Alastair Miles' Ford
hams up the role of tortured
husband and imagined cuckold
for laughs, his solo berating
the 'epicurean rascal' and
Mr Toad look-alike, Falstaff,
is powerful enough to make
him the star of the show.
McLaughlin's Mistress Page
also sings a pretty turn,
putting the other wives rather
in the shade.
As noted, Act II is arguably
far superior to its predecessor.
It ushers in a May Day-style
celebration complete with
a welcome change of scene.
An unexpectedly large company
of villagers carouse, flirt
and sing with passion. Revenge
is planned on the lubricious
Knight by the happy couples
and he is lured into Windsor
forest, dressed as an antlered
Herne the Hunter, inverting
the convention of a cuckold's
horns. Cue a masquerade of
fairies, sprites and magically-costumed
locals to tease and torture
him when he arrives for his
illicit rendezvous beneath
the famous oak. With their
lanterns held aloft, both
singers and stage look suitably
phantasmagoric and a smoking
vermilion-flamed fire is so
realistically presented that
one almost fears for the theatre.
Falstaff finally learns his
lesson and munificently endorses
the elopment of Anne Page
with her beloved Fenton. The
opera climaxes to more displays
of jolly revelling which were
positively infectious. Enthusiastic
applause spoke volumes: even
if another fifty years passes
before it is staged again
- and despite its obvious
limitations - the latest version
of 'Sir John in Love' has
converted a new generation.
Caroline Kellett Fraysse |
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