Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Lucio Silla
Buxton Festival, 2017
Laurence Cummings, Harry Silverstein, Rebecca Bottone, Fflur Wyn, Joshua Ellicott, Madeleine Pierard, Karolína Plicková, Ben Thapa
Buxton Opera House - 20th July 2017
There are only five principal roles singing arias in Lucio Silla, the early opera composed by a 16 year old Mozart, but there's a feeling that the opera is a lot more complicated than it needs to be, and a lot longer than it needs to be as well. That being the case, the last thing an opera like this needs then is to be static in its delivery and unfortunately, there wasn't much in the 2017 Buxton Festival production to make this intriguing work with all its potential a little more engaging.
Even by opera seria standards, with the familiar situation of a harsh ruler using his power to disrupt the love lives of others and thus endanger his position, there's not much reason for Lucio Silla to be quite as complicated as it is. Having seized power in Rome, the dictator Lucius Cornelius Sulla intends to make a point by marrying Giunia, the wife of Cecilio, the son of the deposed former ruler, who is believed to be dead. Giunia is understandably upset by this and makes those feelings known in no uncertain terms and at length throughout the opera. She occasionally spares a thought for Cecilio, who she has discovered isn't dead, and worries about her fate, but mostly it's all about her hatred for Silla.
Meanwhile Silla's sister Celia is in love with Cinna, but that really shouldn't complicate things as much as it does (although all the similar sounding names doesn't help matters), but Cinna backs Cecilio and wants to remove Silla from power, and Celia is torn between her love for Cinna and her love for her own brother the Dictator of Rome. That's basically it, but it takes a back-and-forth sequence of repetitive arias from each of the characters to eventually sort out how to deal with Silla after an hour or three, until Silla takes the noble and unexpected option of renouncing his claim as ruler. Could have saved a lot of despairing arias if he had come to this conclusion a little sooner...
Fortunately however, the arias are very good, even by Mozart's standards and at such a young age. If somewhat conventional in their form they are elegant, delightful and not without some sense of feeling for situation and character. You wouldn't know this however from the direction which makes no effort to support what little character detail there is but saddles the performers with standing statically in place, with only an angry stride or two and the occasional imperious flick of the head over the shoulder to add emphasis to their words.
That's about as expressive as it gets here in Harry Silverstein's production, but the performers are nonetheless often able to make a little more of it, mainly through the quality of the singing. Rebecca Bottone takes the honours as Giunia, handling Mozart's precipitous high to low leaps and demonstrating some lovely coloratura. Fflur Wyn's sweet-voiced delivery and presence were more than capable for the challenges of Cecilia. Although the lead figure in the opera, Silla never feels like the main player here and he is further hampered in this production by conforming to stock 'baddie' mannerisms, but Joshua Ellicott sings the role well.
Most of the roles and much of the colour of Lucio Silla however is determined by the fact that most of the arias are given over to sopranos. It doesn't really help differentiate characters or provide much in the way of musical variety, but in the 'masculine' roles, Madeleine Pierard's singing of the castrato role of Cecilio was assured and well-performed. Karolína Plicková too brought some character to the trouser role of Cinna, managing to raise a laugh at his character's indecisiveness when the chance comes to assassinate Silla and he is left standing there with a knife in his hand and shrugs at his inability to do anything with it. Aufidio doesn't have any arias to sing, but Ben Thapa likewise finds ways to bring character and humour to the role.
The production design had nothing much to offer the interpretation in the way of visual interest. The stage is mostly bare, with the only real decoration being projections and colour for the floor patterns of the stage. In modern dress with generic military uniforms, there are no Romanesque arches or buildings, and no differentiation to suggest the hanging gardens or dungeon locations, public spaces or private chambers specified in the libretto. The backdrop consists of an undecorated wooden framework structure that we unaccountably appear to be looking at from backstage. A throne-like chair, some modern signs (the M and RI of the defeated Marius eventually replaced by LUCIO SILLA) are the only real variations of prop decoration.
Fortunately the fine singing made up for the lack of imagination in the direction and set design, as did Laurence Cummings's conducting of The English Concert orchestra, his direction from the harpsichord keeping the pace and rhythm of the opera flowing.
Links: Buxton International Festival
George Frideric Handel - Tamerlano
Buxton Festival, 2016
Laurence Cummings, Francis Matthews, Rupert Enticknap, Paul Nilon, Owen Willetts, Marie Lys, Catherine Hopper, Robert Davies
Buxton Festival - 21 July 2016
The key to making an opera like Handel's Tamerlano transfer successfully to the modern stage is to find an appropriate emotional level that will make the necessary connection. You could probably say the same about any opera really, but it's particularly important for baroque opera. What might have been appropriate nearly 300 years ago might not necessarily be the case now, so there's a difficult balance to judge between fidelity to the original intentions of the work and how it can be best viewed by a modern audience. Director Francis Matthews seems to be aware of the particularities and the peculiarities of Tamerlano and this 2016 Buxton Festival production gets the essence of the work across very well indeed.
So what is the dominant mood or emotional level that the Buxton production pitches for? Well, strangely, it plays Tamerlano as something of a drama of manners. The drama of Tamerlano isn't that different from most baroque opera plots. There's a ruler who wants to marry the lover of his closest friend or ally, not realising or caring about the trouble it is going to cause. Afraid to confront the Emperor's wisdom and authority, the other protagonists whose lives have been turned upside down then embark instead on a series of laments of woe and betrayal before those sentiments start to turn towards feelings of anger and a desire for vengeance.
With a few other complications thrown in to set everyone at cross purposes, that's Tamerlano in a nutshell. Handel however, while he has no option but to adhere largely to the conventions of these emotional plot points, is much less strident about their severity. Which strikes you as unusual, because the dramatic plot seems to be dialled up to 11 here in this particular opera with several regicidal death plots of stabbing and poison, the threat of a political prisoner being executed by beheading, a heartbreaking familial conflict between a father and a daughter that plumbs the agonies of betrayal, and several other political and marital complications thrown into the emotional bouillabaisse.
Handel however, certainly as far as it is applied here in Matthews' direction and supported in the period instrument musical arrangement of Laurence Cummings conducting the English Concert, plays all the emotional turmoil of Tamerlano as a delicate question of manners and etiquette. How should Bajazet, the defeated Turkish Sultan, conduct himself before the Tartar victor? And should Tamerlano treat his prisoner with mercy or justice? Should Andronicus defer to the decrees of the Emperor, even if it means he cannot be with the woman he loves, Asteria, the daughter of Bajazet, who the Emperor himself wants to marry and then execute her father? And where does this leave Irene, who Tamerlano was originally supposed to marry? It's a troubling conundrum and one must be seen to be behaving in the right manner at all costs.
The question of etiquette being the dominant concern here is very much within the libretto of the work itself, with frequent pronouncements and accusations of arrogance, pride and anger blinding people to the correct way of behaving. Much is directed against Tamerlano, but he also sees any challenge to his authority - particularly on the part of his reluctant bride-to-be - as improper and is convinced that the 'superba' (arrogantly proud) Asteria will surely recognise what is the right way to behave in this situation and come around. The emphasis on manners is also brought out in this production by the silent courtiers who do the king's bidding, issuing proclamations to make sure protocol is followed and documenting any infractions of them.
The elegant and gentle expression of Handel's music explores the ambiguous and complicated space between intent and behaviour wonderfully, and this is brought out well in the period instrument performance and the conducting of Laurence Cummings. There's a persistent rhythm but the use of instruments and melody suggest more complex emotional workings and plays on these rather more nuanced positions that aren't quite up to the gravity of the conventional opera seria situations. There is a risk that a modern audience might still find such concern over manners and protocol a bit silly, but the production and playing takes this into account without betraying the intent of the work or turning it into a light comedy.
The position and the performance of Tamerlano and how he is characterised is important in keeping that balance. Wonderfully, the Buxton production employs a countertenor for the role (with a second countertenor for Andronico) and Rupert Enticknap plays the part of the Emperor absolutely perfectly, certainly at least as far as the tone and intentions of this production are concerned. There's an edge of arrogance in his bearing, demanding respect for his position but also wanting to appear fair to his friends and enemies, and be loved. It's amazing how much of that can be fed into Enticknap's little trills and ornamentation - just pushing his self-importance and self-confidence too far.
Other little "dramatic" gestures and mannerisms play upon the overheated pronouncements and the artificiality of how they are presented on the stage. Paul Nilon's Bajazet, for example, really milks the situations for sympathy and anguish, yet this is exactly how the role is devised and how the arias are composed for it. Yet, there's an underlying suggestion in the music that it's the proud act of a defeated man and failed father - again those roles and manners that need to be followed - and by playing it that way (undoubtedly directed to be played that way), largely straight, letting the music tell us more than the words and the gestures do, it allows a modern audience to see beyond the conventions of the opera seria form.
Adrian Linford's set designs are curious and difficult to place in any period. It's not quite a 'Night at the Museum' idea, but it does fit with the overall tone adopted which is to suggest something of a 21st century view of an 18th century depiction of the 15th century Ottoman empire, again emphasising the artificiality of it all. Aside from the two fine countertenors, Rupert Enticknap as Tamerlano and Owen Willetts as Andronicus, Marie Lys also made a great impression as the "superba" Asteria, a strong character who knows her own mind and always has a plan. She cuts through the hesitancies and uncertainties of the male characters bemoaning their fate and is more in favour of taking direction action, moving everything along as it should.
Links: Buxton Festival
