Stanford - The Critic (Wexford, 2024)

Charles Villiers Stanford - The Critic

Wexford Festival Opera, 2024

Ciarán McAuley, Conor Hanratty, Rory Dunne, Ben McAteer, Ava Dodd, Gyula Nagy, Dane Suarez, Oliver Johnston, Meilir Jones, Andrew Henley, Hannah O'Brien, Carolyn Holt, Mark Lambert, Tony Brennan, Jonathan White, Arthur Riordan, Olga Conway

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 24th October 2024

Opera is usually considered a serious business and comic works are often neglected, confined usually to operetta in the opera houses and mostly to Offenbach and Johann Strauss's Die Fledermaus. The greatest composers - I'm thinking of Mozart principally - manage to incorporate comedy as part of the wider richness of human experience. Works of pure comedy are relatively rare and perhaps don't stand the test of time: what is considered funny 100 or more years ago might not tickle the same way now. Such rare works are not neglected at Wexford, this year's festival theme almost inviting nothing but comedy, which indeed that turned out to be the case (unfortunately, from my perspective) to the exclusion of anything a little more substantial. When you have a pedigree like Charles Villiers Stanford working with a comedy written by Richard Brinsley Sheridan however, The Critic must be a promising prospect. Unfortunately, the 'Theatre within Theatre' idea that is the theme of this year's festival operas tends to neglect any meaningful commentary, and in the case of The Critic not much humour either other than in the broadest sense of laughing at bad opera.

Can you make a good opera out of bad opera? Well, Ariadne auf Naxos had already proven that point by the time Stanford came to compose The Critic, his penultimate opera, in 1916. Sheridan’s 1779 play pokes fun at critics, at the vanity puffery of writers, and the efforts of theatre producers to please everyone. In The Critic, Mr. Puff - the author and Mr. Dangle - the composer/impresario, have invited Mr. Sneer - the critic, to attend the rehearsal of a love story drama set around the invasion of the Spanish Armada. There is undoubtedly much here that could still be seen as relevant in its satire of theatrical conventions, but also a lot that isn't.

Essentially then The Critic operates as the rehearsal of a very bad opera with a ludicrous libretto and stagey acting, with occasional interruptions by the authors pointing out the cleverness of the drama, explaining some of the odder passages that seem to make no sense and appear to have no relevance to the main thrust of the rather disjointed drama. The first act of 'The Spanish Armada' involves a lot of posturing from Sir Walter Raleigh and Sir Christopher Hatton at Tilbury fort about the approach of the Spanish Armada, followed by a lament from the heroine Tilburina about her forbidden love for the captured Spanish officer Don Ferolo Whiskerandos, where she is constantly forced to repeat and improve her movements. Act II shifts to what appears to be a scene from an entirely different opera, an obligatory fight scene that goes through a number of retakes before one of the protagonists walks off leaving the other to shadow fight, and the opera ends with an incongruous masque to celebrate Queen Elizabeth's victory over the Spanish Armada. 

The Critic definitely fulfills the remit of a play within a play, but unfortunately there is little real meaningful connection between the presumed opera and the framing device other than interruptions from Puff and Dangle insisting on the final moments of silly arias and pompous choruses being delivered in an even more ridiculous way. Since the framing device is entirely spoken by actors, that means that the fake opera 'The Spanish Armada' is what actually constitutes the opera The Critic proper. Which means for almost the entire opera, we - the contemporary audience - are treated to what is simply a dreadful opera of ham acting, constant interruptions and exaggerated flourishes delivering a portentous libretto and improbable nonsensical plot.

The names are at least amusing and I have to say I did laugh at the scene where Lord Burleigh silently and solemnly ponders some obscure dilemma before eventually grunting thoughtfully and walking off the stage. Perhaps that's because you could enjoy the actual music, which is of course ravishing, but how much of it is meant to be pastiche and parody? All of it? How do you judge whether it is good music to bad opera or pastiche bad music to match and highlight the absurdities of the plot and libretto? Can we take it seriously when it only emphasises the silliness of the plot? We are perhaps meant to recognise the styles being parodied? None of them are obvious, so any attempts to be clever there also failed.

I'm not sure the period setting, Conor Hanratty's direction or the production design really helps. The stage within the stage set and the costumes are marvellous, the opera looking absolutely gorgeous. Some 'cheap' props and effects are thrown in for additional amusement, but it's all very obvious. Although the intent is that the performers are taking it all very seriously, it's not really funny if it's played as broadly as this. There is nothing to let the audience find their own amusement or any clever device that might hint at a relevant satire they can recognise. I'm thinking for example of the Buxton Festival's 2022 production of Le convenienze ed inconvenienze teatrali (as Viva la Diva), an opera that is also part of the programme in Wexford this year (an obvious choice considering the theme), which satirised all manner of modern production excesses, as well as modern theatrical practice. (I await the Wexford production to see how they fare, but they have a lot to live up to).

Putting the deficiencies about my sense of humour and expectations aside, there can be no dispute about the quality of the orchestra playing under the musical direction of Ciarán McAuley or the singing performances here. The singing was definitely good, or at least good at being bad - I'm not sure how you would evaluate it on that basis. A challenge for the critic indeed. No, the singing was of a high standard, but there was nothing too challenging here, not even the traditional 'mad scene'. The libretto was atrocious, intentionally so, the plot nonsensical, but everyone has different tastes, so if you find that amusing - and the gentleman in the box beside me in the O'Reilly Theatre chuckled away throughout - then The Critic is a definite hit. Just not with this critic*. (But judge for yourself). Certainly we can all do with a little bit of lightness considering the state of the world at the moment, but this was a disappointing year at Wexford Festival Opera for lovers of 'serious' opera. Next year's programme of rare Verdi (Le trouvère), Handel (Deidamia) and Delius (The Magic Fountain) however promises to be very serious indeed!

External links: Wexford Festival Opera, RTE Streaming on YouTube

The critics about The Critic

★★★★★ “Outstanding … doesn’t miss a trick.” - The Irish Times ★★★★★ “Hilarious … a Wexford Festival Opera knockout.” - Bachtrack ★★★★★ “Impeccable.” - The Stage ★★★★ “A superb Ava Dodd … an equally terrific Dane Suarez.” - The Arts Review ★★★★ “Ciarán McAuley’s superb conducting” - The Arts Review ★★★★ “Conor Hanratty’s masterful direction” - The Arts Review *Somehow I can't see my review being added to the above

★★ 'A very bad opera with a ludicrous libretto and stagey acting' - OperaJournal

Caruso - The Master (Wexford, 2022)

Alberto Caruso - The Master

Wexford Festival Opera, 2022

Alberto Caruso, Conor Hanratty, Thomas Birch, James Wafer, Annabella-Vesela Ellis, Lawrence Gillians, Andrii Kharlamov, Dan D'Souza, Isabel Araujo, Anna Gregg, Zita Syme, Emma Walsh, Arlene Belli, Dominica Williams, Gabriel Seawright, Stephen Walker, Chris Mosz, Emma Jüngling, Deirdre Higgins

Jerome Hynes Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 3rd November 2022

I can't say I had any prior expectations of The Master before attending one of the first performances of the new work at the 71st Wexford Festival Opera. I'm not familiar with Alberto Caruso (despite later discovering that I was sitting beside him at the performance of The Spirit Knight the day before) and I haven't read Colm Tóibín's book - or indeed any of his work - although I have read a lot of Henry James, the subject of his award-winning book of the same name. I had previously read several articles by Tóibín talking about his appreciation of opera and, being a native of this part of the world (just up the road in Enniscorthy), his early visits to this opera festival. Collaborating with Caruso on an adaptation of The Master as a chamber opera, not even a main stage opera at the festival but as one of their 'pocket opera' programme, it was nonetheless something to look forward to, and I was at least assured of the highest quality of performance. We got that, but also a whole lot more than I expected.

Still, I had my doubts that composer and librettist could sustain interest or indeed compress the span of the undoubtedly complex nature of the life of Henry James over a two hour long opera with no intermission. The opening didn't seem promising as the author is visited in Venice in 1899 by the ghost of an old friend Constance Fenimore Woolson. James is still smarting from the abject failure of his misguided attempt at theatre, his play Guy Domville greeted with derision from the London public in 1895, his bitterness intensified by Oscar Wilde enjoying success with what he feels is an inferior comedy An Ideal Husband just around the corner. Grudges and hard feelings between Victorian writers (even as great as James and Wilde) hardly seem to be a hot subject to bring up in a new opera, but in a sense that is what the ghost tells James and goes on to show him; that greater art will endure.

That's still a tricky thing to put into an opera, particularly since James, his private life and his sexuality were for obvious reasons kept hidden and private, with only hints and suspicions that reveal more of the man in his letters. Tóibín points out likely reasons for this, taking up the suggestion of James' supposed homosexual inclinations and taking into consideration what happened to Oscar Wilde around this time. As many writers considered exile to France in the wake of Wilde's trials and imprisonment, with talk circulating of a supposed list of figures being drawn up for investigation for similar crimes against Victorian morality, James felt secure in his celibacy that he had no indiscretions to be found out. As a European at heart, constantly travelling, James needed no further incentive following the failure of his play to continue his travels on the continent.

It's only then that you see the opportunities that open up for the opera, just as they did for a naturalised Englishman of American origin who writes about tragic figures bound by society's manners and rules whose lives are enriched, romantically, culturally and sometimes fatally by the history and diversity of Venice, Rome and Florence. The Master takes those locations in, and the diversity and the impact they have on James is put across beautifully in concise, relevant scenes taken from his life, set against the background of his great works, all set to a rich variety of musical themes by Alberto Caruso.

For a chamber opera, there are a surprising number of diverse scenes, which means that there are also a larger than usual number of principal singing roles. Among them is James' awkward bedroom encounter with Oliver Wendell Holmes, the death of his sister Alice and his meeting with the sculptor Hendrik Andersen. Despite being presented a chamber opera and featuring in the Wexford festival's side programme of 'pocket operas' and despite being performed with piano accompaniment music only (played by the composer), it seemed to me that this had the range and ambition of a full scale opera in conception and in execution. All the ensemble characters and the social situations with chorus who come into contact with James have an important part to play in defining who he is and who he is not, in as far as can be speculated upon. Taking on the difficult challenge of writing a libretto from his own novel, Colm Tóibín makes a convincing case not just for which scenes to include, but in how to make them work in isolation and in terms of the work as a whole.

While I think those choices are superb - every scene having something of interest to impart on James, on art, on love, on friendship, on life in general - Caruso's score, even in piano reduction, brings it all together, making it feel less a series of isolated scenes than something that has that bigger picture in mind. Between them Caruso and Tóibín's familiarity with opera conventions, there is clearly the ambition to use and enrich the work with its distinctive qualities, the creators being consistently creative in overlapping exchanges, quartets, choral arrangements. And they are not used lightly, but in the service of getting to the heart of what is important in each scene and how it contributes to the whole.

Away from the stage, it's hard to convey with words alone how the creators have managed to turn such a story into a compelling opera - and a modern opera that runs to almost two hours - but there is not a dull moment anywhere. Of course, a lot of the success of the work and its performance here is down to the cast and they are superb, not just Thomas Birch as Henry James and Annabella-Vesela Ellis as Constance Fenimore Woolson - whose challenges are considerable considering they are on stage singing for most of the running time - but all the supporting roles were undertaken with great character and thrilling singing. Caruso brought the full character of the score to light in his piano playing. Mostly however, the success is down to how well the creators and performers make use of the unique ability of opera to conjure scenes and bring them to life. Magic & Music is the main theme of this year's Wexford Festival Opera, and The Master created its own kind of magic.

The intimacy of the smaller Jerome Hynes Theatre at the National Opera House undoubtedly helped. There was little required in the way of sets or props, but everything that was needed to draw you in was there in the singing, in the beautiful period costume design, in the excellent choreography and direction by Conor Hanratty that ensured that this flowed through without any need for an interval. I'm sure however that the quality of this work is enough to expand equally successfully to a larger stage and orchestration without losing anything of its heart and intimacy.

Links: Wexford Festival Opera