Spring at E.N.O presents the extremes of tragedy and comedy in Donizetti’s oeuvre. From the poison of Lucia di Lammermoor to the popcorn of The Elixir of Love, we confront polarities – an interesting dichotomy for those lucky enough to witness both interpretations.
      Jonathan Miller’s new production of Elixir features scenery and costumes provided by the New York City Opera originally created for the Royal Swedish Opera. Relocated to Fifties’ small-town America by set-designer Isabella Bywater, her stylised, mid-west diner emerges from tumbleweed plains, a lone windmill or petrol pump relieving the landscape’s infinity. It is a spare set (with one revolved alternative prospect) fit for purpose, yet pared to the point of economy. Hanging out at Adina’s soda fountain, the chorus of hayseed hicks interact in dungarees and boiler suits; while their womenfolk parade prom gowns, tea dresses, and floral pinnies - the latter bizarrely reminiscent of our own, late-lamented television char Ena Sharples.
      Elixir is another conflicted opera. On the one hand, it references the philtre of Tristan and Isolde as a Wagnerian template for the snake-oil with which hopeless Nemorino attempts to win pragmatic Adina; offering the odd apposite insight on love in the process. On the other (de haut en bas) the protagonists are rather bathetic, with unsympathetic, shallow lives overshadowed by a heavy-handed, ‘Happy Days’ makeover.
      Kelley Rourke’s U.S-based translation of Felice Romani’s original libretto does not always help. There is no denying that it rattles along in an amiable parody of post-war bonhomie - but excessive slang (‘holy moly’, ‘mind-blown’, ‘listen up’, etc.) demeans the tale a peg too far, and we are reluctantly drawn into matey, soap-opera territory.
      Presentation may wobble, but Miller’s cast are wonderful – the chorus glad and forceful of voice, with a passion that transcends context. All the soloists step up to the Yankee plate, with Andrew Shore’s mini-magus Dulcamara outstanding as singer, actor and comic. Slender bombshell Sarah Tynan is also a smash, playing good-time girl Adina: rocking her mop, voice reaching for the stars while keeping feet (and heart) on the ground. Old-school swain Nemorino (tenor John Tessier) attempts an unconvincing character-arc from loser to bruiser, but his piercing Act II aria ‘If you would love me, I would not ask for more’ is quite lovely.
      There is fun to be had from this candy-coloured vision of Donizetti’s Elixir of Love. Miller’s take on the piece might be showy, but he never neglects the opera’s fundamental draw - fortuitously, music and voice delight.
Caroline Kellett Fraysse