The lid of the biscuit tin will stale even the greatest of art, and it’s this threat of over familiarity which challenges the subtlety of Puccini’s Tosca. It’s the world’s favourite secret-policeman’s opera with its diva and daggers, firing squad and suicidal finale; the high drama easily becomes melodrama and its characters clichés. In this new production directed by the acclaimed soprano Catherine Malfitano, refreshingly, the clichés are re-moulded and well-worn scenarios are injected with a surprising sense of psychological realism. Tosca’s diva-ish tantrum in the first act is played here as pure tease, a tantalising trip and tug of feelings as Cavaradrossi and Floria Tosca dance their mutual attraction across the stage, every flirting nuance of their erotic charade underscored by the flamboyant, intuitive and perfectly timed conducting of Edward Gardner. It is a sheer delight and builds an instinctive intimacy between the two principles which makes perfect sense of the events that follow.
      Amanda Echalaz and Julian Gavin soar together as Tosca and Cavaradossi. Julian Gavin brings a big hearted, unstintingly powerful, heroic sound to the artist’s role, and Echalaz’s Tosca returns his ardent tones with a compellingly rich and finely balanced voice that thrills with its honesty and strength. In place of vamping there is a tenderly observed sensitivity to the music from Echalaz and fine acting which consistently impresses with a sense of truth and urgency. Perhaps it is the director’s own pedigree in this role which informs her sympathy for the diva, but this production brings us a human Tosca who captures our hearts in the first scene and makes perfect sense of the personal entanglements that characterise Puccini’s masterpiece. Even if Echalaz doesn’t manage to achieve the fragility and vulnerability to truly captivate with Tosca’s moment of anguish in the second act, her bold clarity and strength of range seem to promise a great future for this soprano.
      Anthony Michaels-Moore gives us a plangent, dark, menacing and slightly mad Baron Scarpia. His erotic malice is clear from the outset as he and his spooks descend on the church with their ominous intent. The orchestra is on superlative form at the ENO these days and, as the action moves across the city, it entrances with a sweeping evocation Rome, distant dreamy bells easily conjuring the eternal city out of the Colloseum. It may be churlish to carp at such a frankly enjoyable production but the set designs of Frank Philipp Schlossmann, which carry us in conventional form from the Sant’Andrea della Valle church to Scarpia’s office in Palazzo Farnese, seem to drop off a symbolist cliff in Act 3. Rather than the battlements of Castel Sant’Angelo, the execution of Cavaradossi and Tosca’s suicidal jump take place off what looks like a skateboard ramp on another planet. Nevertheless, the music and the performances effortlessly weather this incongruity. Gripping, riveting, moving and tender; this is a remarkable production and remains delicious to the final drop.
Charlie Taylor