Showing posts with label Owen Willetts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Owen Willetts. Show all posts
Sunday, 21 July 2019
Caldara - Lucio Papirio Dittatore (Buxton, 2019)
Antonio Caldara - Lucio Papirio Dittatore
La Serenissima, 2019
Adrian Chandler, Giulia Nuti, Mark Burns, Robert Murray, William Towers, Owen Willetts, Rowan Pierce, Elizabeth Karani, Eleanor Dennis, Gareth Brynmor John
Buxton Opera House - 13th July 2019
As the director Mark Burns observes in the programme notes, there is a challenge about approaching an old forgotten work as a complete blank slate, particularly a work as rare as Antonio Caldara's Lucio Papirio Dittatore, composed in 1719 and almost unheard of since. Composed for the royal court of the Holy Roman Emperor in Vienna, for which Caldera was Vice-Kapellmeister, it's a work nonetheless that proves to be deserving of revival and sympathetic treatment. Its qualities are certainly borne out by an outstanding performance from period music specialists La Serenissima and some magnificent fine singing, but the direction proves to be unable to do much to enliven the rather dry long drawn out conventions of the opera seria.
It really needs a little more because in many respects Lucio Papirio Dittatore is to the untrained ear indistinguishable in content and approach from the opera seria of Vivaldi, Scarlatti and even Handel in his dryer works. Others too that I may have forgotten or have failed to register in the memory because aside from the bigger names who have been mined in recent decades, baroque opera has slipped slightly out of the picture as far as I can see. All the more reason to be delighted when a company like La Serenissima are prepared to dig a little deeper into what still remains largely buried treasure. Any one of Caldera's 40 or so surviving operas would be a true rarity and surely deserving of the kind of sympathetic treatment of a period music performance.
A largely static period production of a baroque opera seria won't do it any favours or win over any casual opera goers at the Buxton Festival. It's true that there's not a whole lot you can do with a work that is about the traditional struggle between power, authority and love and make it feel fresh, modern and exciting without shoehorning in a lot of contemporary references. We've had all that already in Buxton with Donald Trump, Boris Johnson and David Cameron all referenced in Orpheus in the Underworld, and in Georgiana too to a less obvious nod-and-a-wink extent. Even in a work where a plebiscite or referendum takes place and is eventually overruled, there's no such highlighting of any obvious parallel, preferring to let the content and treatment of Lucio Papirio Dittatore speak for itself.
To his credit, the director Mark Burns does attempt to modernise the themes with a reference to the building wrapping art installations of the Bulgarian artists Christo Vladimirov Javacheff and Jeanne-Claude Marie Denat, the Roman arches and monuments here draped in a fine muslin-like cloth. A casual viewer who hasn't read the programme notes is unlikely to notice this or catch the reference to the artists' background under Soviet Communist rules and its implications of tyranny of the weak. As it stands, with the cloth hangings the same colour as the stone and marble it just makes the arches look a little rough and bumpy, but perhaps on some level it informs the production.
As far as the performances go there appears to be little to the direction other than blocking, moving forward and backward, making entrances and exits. On the other hand it has to be said that the drama, what little of it there is considerably drawn-out, plays out with admirable clarity and holds attention. That is no mean feat in a work of this type, particularly when it appears to be played in full without any cuts, even going as far as to include the coda in praise of the Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI. If you are going to the trouble of reviving a rare work like this you want to do it without compromise, but inevitably that's going to come at the cost of accessibility. I can't fault La Serenissima for their choice and the director has had to work within those constraints, and to be fair, since many like me come to Buxton for the opportunity to experience rare works performed nowhere else, I wouldn't have it any other way.
What provided visual interest on the stage however was the decision to put the orchestra up there with the drama. It's a large ensemble too, occupying a full third of the stage. This was a complete joy to see and it provided the accessibility that that drama didn't, permitting the audience, particularly those with a higher view than the stalls, the opportunity to see how Caldara uses different sections of instruments to vary mood and situation, which part used harpsichord, theorbo and cello continuo, which called on the brass fanfares, which brought in the whole ensemble with percussion and woodwind. Without a conductor, there are two musical directors then for the diverse parts of the work and recitative, Adrian Chandler leading on violin, Giulia Nuti on harpsichord. All the drama is in there and you would miss much of that if it was consigned to the orchestra pit.
Without getting into the technicalities of the plot, like most opera seria works derived from Zeno or Metastasio, Lucio Papirio Dittatore is actually quite simple in outline but needlessly complicated in detail. During the Second Samnite war in 324BC, the Roman army general Quinto Fabio has disobeyed the orders of the dictator Lucio Papirio and launched into battle with the Samnites. No matter that he was victorious and won the day, ending the war almost single-handed; his failure to follow orders amounts to treason and he must be punished. There's only one sentence according to the law and that is death, no matter that Quinto is married to Papirio's daughter, Papiria. Quinto is assured of his actions despite being warned that "Innocence cannot save you from power and envy". In true opera seria fashion, the situation inevitably introduces a lot of lamenting and pleading on the part of Papiria.
That's drawn out to about an hour and a half in the first two Acts, which is tough going. You can see parallels with power and envy clear enough without it having to be spelled out but mainly you see a lot of conventional opera seria. In the second half Papirio shows that he is not actually motivated by envy and is willing to spare Quinto if the people of Rome vote in his favour. Unfortunately the people of Rome, for some reason, decide they want their hero executed. Lucio proves magnanimous and commutes the sentence, forgiving Quinto. The soldier is so overwhelmed with this gesture that he decides he would happily die. And then somehow it's all wrapped up with a happy ending. Don't ask me to make sense out of any of that. There's a fuller synopsis available in the Festival programme, but I'm not sure it's worth the effort, at least not as far making sense of the plot.
What matters is that Caldera's music makes it work, and it is absolutely beautiful music with wonderful sounding period instruments - including a harpsichord, theorbo and chalumeau - delivering vivid exciting rhythms and sounds that are unlike anything else. And it works too because of the singers. Owen Willetts's Quinto Fabio is superb, a countertenor with strength and impressive control, he is able to handle the flights of emotive expression. Rowan Pierce's Papiria too is impressive. Initially saddled with laments for the most part, she nonetheless makes the role sympathetic with an edge of defiance against her father. Eleanor Dennis's Cominio is also excellent in the subplot romance that I've intentionally neglected to include in the plot description for fear of making it any more complicated, but again, the performances make it fit, hold attention and overcome any issues there might have been with the otherwise static stage direction.
Links: Buxton International Festival
Monday, 1 August 2016
Handel - Tamerlano (Buxton Festival, 2016)
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
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
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