Donizetti - Zoraida di Granata (Wexford, 2023)

Gaetano Donizetti - Zoraida di Granata

Wexford Festival Opera, 2023

Diego Ceretta, Bruno Ravella, Claudia Boyle, Konu Kim, Matteo Mezzaro, Julian Henao Gonzalez, Rachel Croash, Matteo Guerzè

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House - 24th October 2023

For 72 years, one of the principles of Wexford Festival Opera has been to present rare, lost and forgotten opera that is worthy of a fresh look. With a history of 400 years of opera to look through, there are hundreds of composers, never mind works, that have been neglected over this time. Donizetti is not a composer you would think of as neglected, but surprisingly few of around 75 operas written by the composer are regularly performed, and it is only through the efforts of Wexford and the Donizetti Festival in Bergamo that more of his works have been rediscovered. Thanks to a joint co-production between Wexford and Bergamo it's Zoraida di Granata that has been dusted off this year and given a smartly polished performance in its world premiere at Wexford.

And it is a bit of a coup for Wexford, since it isn't often that you get to see the world premiere stage production of an opera that was written 200 years ago - one by Gaetano Donizetti no less. The original version of Zoraida di Granata composed in 1822 was never performed due to the death of the lead tenor playing the role of Abenamet in an unfortunate accident. The opera had to be rewritten for a contralto and scenes reduced to suit the hastily arranged replacement. Donizetti took the opportunity to revise and extended the work further in 1824, but the original 1822 version for tenor Abenamet has consequently never been fully staged. What is interesting is that this co-production with Bergamo is being performed in two different versions, Wexford putting on the only performances of original 1822 version, Bergamo working with the revised 1824 version. This was an occasion then that was worthy of being greeted with fireworks - as is traditional at the start of the Wexford Festival - and even the Taoiseach Leo Varadkar in attendance at the premiere performance.

Photo: Clive Barda

Written in 1822, Zoraida is an early Donizetti, his sixth opera and his first great success that led to greater things. Based on its presentation at Wexford, it's not difficult to see why. The plot is relatively straightforward for a Donizetti opera, not as convoluted as some of his works and it benefits from its directness. While it has short sections of recitative, musically there is no "filler", the writing passionate and lyrical in its setting of a traditional story of three-way romantic conflict in a time of war. There is no mad scene or any such extravagance, each of the three principals having an aria to express their condition, the soprano in particular having a beautiful aria in the second act that hits all the emotional points. The villain Almuzir also has a powerfully written aria in Act 1, expressing his desire for Zoraida, which serves to balance the work and give added poignancy to Zoraida's aria at her fate.

In terms of the plot it's set in the roughly historical period of 1480, with the city of Granada taken by the Moors but still under siege. Almuzir has deposed and killed the king of Granada and is determined to marry his daughter Zoraida. Zoraida however is in love with Abenamet, the head of the army and Almuzir's rival. Unable to 'persuade' Zoraida to marry him, Almuzir instead plots to be rid of Abenamet, sending him out in command of troops to repulse the Spanish counterattack, but warning him on the pain of death that the city's standard must remain safe in his hands. Almuzir of course plans to ensure that even when Abenamet is successful in battle, that the standard is taken from him. It's only when his scheme is undone that Almuzir feels shame for his actions and repents, accepting the union of Abenamet and Zoraida.

Photo: Clive Barda

That unlikely resolution and change of heart amused the audience at Wexford, which is entirely the point of Zoraida di Granata. It's opera as unsophisticated entertainment, or so you might think, but in reality the musical qualities of Donizetti's composition are evident in the flowing lyricism of the score and wonderful melodic invention. It's actually beautifully balanced musically and dramatically, direct in its focus on the romantic drama of the plot, giving equal concision and precision in the expression of the three leads, never letting it turn into a showpiece for the soprano as you might find in later works. That's the case for the 1822 original version, and you would suspect that there is nothing to be gained and much to lose in forced revisions that could hardly improve on this.

If the quality of the work was evident it was wholly down to the production and the performance of the opera at Wexford highlighting its qualities. The playing of the Wexford Festival Orchestra under Diego Ceretta brought out all the colour and dynamic of Donizetti's vivid score. Claudia Boyle as Zoraida was bright, clear and passionate in delivery, the soprano role nonetheless challenging with some coloratura flourishes in repeated lines, but nothing too extravagant. It suited the directness of the director's approach, delving into the emotional core and content of the work that ties it in with the theme of this year's festival, Women & War, and Boyle came into her own impressively in the second act. Matteo Mezzaro was a little bit wavering as Abenamet, but likewise stormed through in the second act, giving the impression that the cast were buoyed by the progression of the music and plot. Rachel Croash was superb as Ines, but it was South Korean tenor Konu Kim as Almuzir who took the honours and the loudest applause at the end of the opera. He didn't have to play the eye-rolling evil villain, but put everything into flashes of anger and lust, letting it roar out with superb control and projection.

Directed by Bruno Ravella, the production design also played to the strengths of the work with no elaborate special effects being required. The set remained largely the same across the two acts/two halves of the opera with a ruined classical structure backdrop and the ground littered with debris. Only the occasional lowering of a pillar and framework of a destroyed stained glass window as required for dramatic purpose. The lighting was just as effective for varying and matching the tone of each scene dramatically. The challenge for the director - for any director doing a Donizetti opera - is to make a 200 year work with old-fashioned opera conventions feel immediate and relevant, as well as serve the demands of the plot and retain the particular balance that makes this one such a successful opera.

Photo: Clive Barda

There was one other element that the director had to consider which fitted perfectly with the Women & War theme of the 72nd Wexford Festival Opera. While work on this production would have been on-going for some time for it to make any meaningful point about current conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza, it was hard not to see obvious parallels with the devastation currently being shown on our TV screens and sympathise with the idea of innocent people caught up in it all. And indeed the women who are victims of these atrocities, one of the first scenes you see being a dead woman pulled out of a pile of rubble. It couldn't have been foreseen that such scenes would be playing out at the same time in the real world, but on the other hand not surprising at all really that so little has changed and that war continues to bring nothing but suffering to all those caught up in it.

This performance of Zoraida di Granata has been filmed and will be available to view on OperaVision from 3rd November 2023.

External links: Wexford Festival Opera, OperaVision

Rossini - La Cenerentola (Dublin, 2019)

Gioachino Rossini - La Cenerentola

Irish National Opera, 2019

Fergus Sheil, Orpha Phelan, Tara Erraught, Andrew Owens, Rachel Croash, Niamh O'Sullivan, Graeme Danby, Riccardo Novaro, David Oštrek

Bord Gáis Energy Theatre - 11 November 2019

Rossini's La Cenerentola departs from the familiar traditional Cinderella story in a number of key areas. There's no there's no fairy godmother, no magic pumpkin coach and mice coachmen, there's not even a lost slipper, but in no respect could you say that Rossini's opera lacks magic. To state the obvious it's in Rossini's music as well as in the fairy-tale romance, in the tale's moral of kindness and goodness being its own reward. Rossini unquestionably makes this come to life, but that doesn't mean it can't have a helping hand in the stage directions.

Since the moral is timeless, there's no reason however why La Cenerentola needs to be done in fairy-tale period costume. It could work just as well in an adventurous modern day setting (as in Opera North's entertaining production), although perhaps not so much in a "real-world" setting. Orpha Phelan, directing her first production for Irish National Opera, decides to embrace the fairy-tale side of the work, but she does so in a way that plays to the opera and the story's inner life, which is its belief in the power of imagination.

It's by no means an original idea to set a fairy-tale inside a book, but it's a nice effect that works with the nature of Cinderella, the fold-out house set of the first Act attesting to the simplicity and poverty of the situation Cinderella finds herself in; a servant to Don Magnifico and her demanding step-sisters, who despite the grandness of the family name and their pretensions have hit upon hard times. Cinderella however, when she gets a moment's peace from the ministrations imposed on her, finds her escape in her books, sitting in a corner reading classic tales of romance and adventure.

Orpha Phelan uses the opera's overture to give the audience a glimpse into the reasons for her retreating into a dream world by showing us something of the tragic circumstances of her personal background. As I said when I saw the Wexford Festival Opera's production of another Rossini short opera two weeks ago - L'Inganno Felice (featuring another unjustly mistreated young woman in similar circumstances), Rossini's overtures are just too good to waste and Phelan directs a lovely opening that also takes in scenes and figures from all the classic fairy tales that Cinderella escapes into; Sleeping Beauty, Red Riding Hood, Puss in Boots.

It's a theme that is expanded on further and impressively when the cardboard book is wheeled off the stage and the Prince's palace is shown to be filled with oversize books of classic stories, many with an Irish connection, from Yeats, Wilde and Joyce to Hans Christian Andersen and Charles Perrault, from Treasure Island to Clara Louise Burnham's The Right Princess. If you thought that the set for Act I was a little basic, it was just so that set designer Nicky Shaw could make an even greater impression in Act II, the glorious set showing that the opera in this production is all about the power of storytelling and the imagination, with characters escaping from the books and running around the stage as Cinderella's ability to realise her dream falls into place.

Cinderella's dream however is not necessarily to marry a prince but to be loved and respected and to be able to feel part of a family, no matter how cruel and mean her own are to her. It's the dream of a better world where kindness and fairness is rewarded or is its own reward. It's not a deep philosophy, a little bit utopian and not entirely realistic about human nature (although to be fair, the Magnificos show no desire to reform or accept Cenerentola as one of their own), but we can dream. What would we do if we couldn't dream or didn't have books (and opera) to make it a better place?

You can't ask for more from La Cenerentola than to get that idea across and it's done wonderfully in the INO production, not least in Fergus Shiels' wonderful elegant run through Rossini's delightful, beautiful score. The stage direction of the performances was superb, never overplaying or exaggerating the comedy, but allowing the essential human side of it to come through. As Cenerentola, Tara Erraught is back home again this season after debuting the INO's inaugural production (The Marriage of Figaro) and we're fortunate to get the opportunity to see her over here when she is in demand in Europe and New York. She handles the demands of a Rossini mezzo-soprano exceptionally well.

It's also a pleasure to welcome American tenor Andrew Owens to Dublin. He is outstanding as the Prince, Don Ramiro, a perfect voice for Rossini and bel canto, lovely Italianate phrasing with real steel and volume behind those top notes. For all the challenges faced by the principals, La Cenerentola is an ensemble piece really with rapid delivery, comic timing and interaction that places demands on Rachel Croash and Niamh O'Sullivan as Clorinde and Thisbe, Graeme Danby as Don Magnifico and particularly Riccardo Novaro as Don Ramiro's squire Dandini who gets a bit above himself and has to take all the attentions of the step sisters. That's hard work. In the context of the literary nature of the production it was also a nice idea to have David Oštrek as the tutor/philosopher Alidoro acting as a kind of author/narrator, directing or scripting the outcome. There's no question that the whole affair of INO's La Cenerentola was very well directed towards a successful outcome.

Links: Irish National Opera

Mozart - The Magic Flute (Wexford, 2019)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Die Zauberflöte

Irish National Opera, 2019

Peter Whelan, Caroline Staunton, Anna Devin, Nick Pritchard, Gavan Ring, Kim Sheenan, Lukas Jakobski, Rachel Croash, Sarah Richmond, Raphaela Mangan, Andrew Gavin, Amy Ní Fhearraigh, Padraic Rowan, Nicholas O'Neill, Seán Hughes, Oran Murphy, Fearghal Curtis, Robert McAllister, Matthew Mannion, Peter O' Reilly

National Opera House, Wexford - 17th May 2019 

You're taking a big risk if you attempt to remove the magic fairy-tale elements from The Magic Flute and downplay its Masonic underpinnings, but then Irish National Opera have been bold in their interpretation of other popular works this season (Aida, Madama Butterfly), often with impressive results. I'm not sure that their Die Zauberflöte works entirely without all the usual crowd-pleasing set pieces, and I'm not sure you can set out to make the opera work with any basis in the real world, but on the whole it's a worthwhile effort, certainly from the standpoint of the musical and singing performances.

It's certainly worth giving it a go though since, as director Caroline Staunton observes in her programme notes, Mozart's work is almost miraculous in how its compositional ideas and execution far surpasses its origins as "a dramaturgically chaotic narrative intended for a bawdy beer-hall in late 18th century Vienna". The Magic Flute has a lot more to offer than just a romp through its comedy routines and an often pompous approach to its ceremonial elements.

Inevitably, trying to tie that "dramaturgically chaotic narrative" into something real-world, meaningful and coherent is problematic, but even if it doesn't always hold together in the case of INO production, it does throw up a few good ideas and insights. Bringing an Irish element into the work in a late 19th century context means that Caroline Staunton (who has worked with Dmitri Tcherniakov and Claus Guth at the Berlin State Opera) can replace some of the fairy-tale elements with Irish folklore, but it's not simply a matter of introducing another type of fantasy, and is a little more ambitious than that.

The division is not so much the traditional one of obscurantism versus enlightenment, as much as the ordinary Irish people in opposition to the colonisation of their land by English landlords. In that context, the Queen of the Night can certainly be very much seen in terms of a banshee, her Three Ladies spreading tales of her power and danger. What is obvious to the viewer however is that these are not mythological creatures, but common people in disguise, forging stories and legend to strike fear into ordinary labourers like Papageno as to what will happen to them should they step out of line.

But it's not just to control the likes of Papageno, or indeed create a fantasy in order to get Tamino to serve their purposes. It's also to create a force of resistance against Sarastro, who likewise is not entirely what he seems to be, and certainly not the great font of wisdom that he pretends. Surrounding himself with followers and books, setting up a system that works for his own purposes, in reality all he is doing is imposing another form of outside order on the people of the land, his abduction of Pamina akin to the seizing of their inheritance.

So where do Tamino and Pamina fit into this arrangement? Well, Sarastro sees the trials as a way of conditioning both Tamino and Pamina to his way of thinking. His desire for their marriage is a way of imposing a patriarchal authority through a formal arrangement, through marriage, the wife respecting and honouring the man's position at the head of it. Pamina, in this production, isn't having any of that.

If you're used to seeing the Magic Flute in its traditional way of playing out, this revision obviously confuses how you might think you ought to feel about the work. Mozart and Schikaneder's late 18th century viewpoint was of its time and perhaps some of its views and attitudes can feel a little dated today. Perhaps Die Zauberflöte isn't meant to be taken that seriously and trying to impose a modern-day perspective on it risks distorting the true meaning of the work, but there is indeed a message of enlightenment in the work and it deserves to be given serious attention.

Rather than distort the work's thoughts on enlightened thinking overcoming myths and superstition, on male and female finding accommodation and acceptance of the roles each has to play, it's worth taking a more critical look at the values as they have been perpetuated down through the years. If this was true of the late 18th century, or the late 19th century in this production, we ought to be much further down the path to peace, love and enlightenment than we are as a society, and it's worth considering why we haven't progressed much further to achieve that balance that Mozart clearly believed in and wanted to see established.

What makes such an idea work in the INO production, despite the contradictions that it might sometimes run into, is the central performances and again the perspective on that is not the traditional one. Tamino and Pamina can appear to be rather bland figures in other productions, lacking the colour and wonder of Königin der Nacht and Sarastro (and indeed even Papageno and Papagena), but not here. It's Tamino and Pamina who have the strength to call the shots, to change direction, to find a path that doesn't peddle myths. They are rightly the true heart of the work in this production.

And if that works it's on account of two terrific performances in the Wexford opening night of this production from Nick Pritchard and Anna Devin as Tamino and Pamina. Lyrical and authoritative, they breathe personality into these characters, showing them as they ought to truly be; beacons for a new way, rejecting the ways of the past, steadfast in love above everything else. No guru, no method, no teacher, as another famous Irishman once put it, which fits with the Irish theme of the production and the references that Staunton draws with J.M. Synge and Brian Friel.

So what traditional delights do we miss by going down this route? Well, there's no giant serpent at the start, there are no birds caught by Papageno, Königin's entrance is underwhelming, there's no aged-crone version of Papagena. That means that we miss out on a lot of the glamour and comedy which is unfortunate, but how much does that really add to the work anyway? We lose the Queen of the Night's aura of mystery and majesty, we lose Sarastro's grave presence and the solemnity of the rituals of initiation, but again, it removes distraction and obscurity and allows for a more useful and meaningful employment of Mozart's music and ideas.

What we aren't short of is an impressive set design that matches the tone of the music to a more down-to-earth depiction of beauty and wisdom. There's also a warm and rich account of the marvellous score by the Irish Chamber Orchestra under Peter Whelan, and it's there more than anywhere that the brilliance and wonder of The Magic Flute really comes alive. We also have a great cast of singers - INO always impressive in their casting choices - with Gavan Ring particularly good as Papageno and Kim Sheehan impressing with her "Der Hölle Rache" as Königin der Nacht. Sung and spoken in German, with an ambitious twist to reinterpret the meaning of the work, you really can't ask for much better treatment and respect for Mozart and a great opera like this.

Links: Irish National Opera

Puccini - Madama Butterfly (Dublin, 2019)

Giacomo Puccini - Madama Butterfly

Irish National Opera, 2019

Timothy Redmond, Ben Barnes, Celine Byrne, Julian Hubbard, Brett Polegato, Doreen Curran, Eamonn Mulhall, John Molloy, Niamh O'Sullivan, Rachel Croash, Brendan Collins, Robert McAllister, Kevin Neville, Cormac Lawlor

Bord Gáis Energy Theatre, Dublin - 28 March 2019 

In his programme notes, director Ben Barnes quotes Woody Allen, "People marry and die. Pinkerton does not return" and follows it with the personal observation, "Would that he had never come in the first place". It's by no means a new idea to see Madama Butterfly as a condemnation of American political and cultural imperialism rather than just a romantic tragedy; the marriage of an American sailor to a naive Japanese child bride certainly invites that response to a modern audience. The director's observation however is a bold statement of intent all the same and I hoped to see that developed in the Irish National Opera's new production of Madama Butterfly. Barnes certainly followed through on that idea, not as boldly as he might have, but in an opera as popular as Madama Butterfly, it's perhaps wise not to stray too far from audience expectations.

To be fair, taking Madama Butterfly out of Japan is no minor adjustment. I've seen a lot - and I mean a lot - of Madama Butterflys in my time and quite a few updatings, but none have dared to dispense almost entirely with the pretty Japanese imagery of its Nagasaki setting. I say 'almost' however and that's because an Asian element is still apparent and pretty much essential to the purpose of the clash of both the romantic and cultural ideals. Director Ben Barnes sets the INO production to all intents and purposes in Vietnam in the 1950s/60s and makes a few minor modifications to the surtitles to hide the references to Japan and Nagasaki, even though the libretto remains unchanged.

The pan-Asian set design however doesn't depart too far from what you might expect to see on the stage in a production of Madama Butterfly, but it extends the range of the work considerably from the romantic delusions of one couple in Nagasaki. It also makes it easier to see it in terms of a critical look at American imperialism that essentially views Asians as all the same and ripe for exploitation for their own interests.

It's refreshing then to see characters wearing Chinese pointed bamboo hats and robes instead of kimonos and obis, even though the customs referred to in the libretto remain Japanese and the house still very much the traditional shoji style paper panel screens, but every effort is made to not rest on the standard imagery and ceremonial representations that are all too familiar in productions of Madama Butterfly. Credit should go to Libby Seward who shows great inventiveness in the choreography and colour of Act I, finding the flow and mood of the work perfectly and mirroring it in the arranging of the chorus, in little movements and gestures. It's visually splendid and makes the observations of character much more engaging than Act I usually is, particularly as I say, since the production is not terribly bold here with any overt political commentary.

For the most part then we had to make do with the singing, and when I say 'make do' I really mean just be absolutely floored by the quality of the cast and the beauty of the performances. There was more than enough here in the definition of the characterisation to make up for the lack of any apparent deeper purpose in the production. Celine Byrne, an international star only now getting the opportunity to perform back home in Ireland with the creation of INO last year, was simply stunning. She almost made singing Cio-Cio-San look easy, which is no mean feat, but that doesn't mean she coasted at all either. This was a heartfelt performance with intelligent phrasing and technique that let little insights into Butterfly's character show. Combined with a luxurious timbre, no harshness or strain evident, just a clear ringing rounded delivery, everything you could want from Puccini's tragic heroine is present here in an engaging and masterful performance.

There was no slacking or weaknesses anywhere else; it was as if everyone had to up their game to be on the same level as Celine Byrne. Julian Hubbard was a fine Pinkerton, a little neutral in characterisation, but sometimes it's necessary not to overstate Pinkerton as a 'villain' since he doesn't see himself that way (although it's annoying that audiences still insist on treating him as a pantomime character, booing the villain at the curtain call), but just let the work speak for itself. Brett Polegato was a wonderfully sonorous Sharpless and Doreen Curran's Suzuki was perfectly pitched in voice and character to complement Byrne's Cio-Cio San. There was plenty to 'make do' also in Eamonn Mulhall's Goro, John Molloy's Bonze and in the lovely chorus work. The INO really have an impressive pool of talent to draw upon here.

It's only during the Intermezzo between Act II and Act III that Ben Barnes really lets fly and hits home with the impact that up to then had been left to the singers to deliver. Projections onto the closed shoji screens of Butterfly's house show everyday people's lives in Asia being gradually overturned by American involvement in the East; politicians and soldiers seem oblivious to the reality and inhumanity of what takes place in Vietnam as bombs are dropped and villages are burnt. It's dropped in so suddenly without any prior notice that it's a bit jarring and doesn't fit well with what has come before. A few hints might have integrated this better into the production as a whole, but on the other hand the element of shock is just as effective and it actually doesn't seem heavy-handed (or at least not any more heavy-handed than Puccini's score, should you see it that way), and it opens up the work's dramatic scenes of betrayal and death on a much larger scale than it being just an isolated little incident of romantic tragedy.

I must admit that I sometimes get tired of the idea of going to see another Madama Butterfly, but that only lasts up to the moment that I hear the first few bars of the score and I am immediately gripped and transported by Puccini's genius and his ability to make this intimate little story so momentous. That magic works again under the conducting of Timothy Redmond, the RTÉ Concert Orchestra giving a balanced reading that shows no heavy-handedness either. When you get to the Humming Chorus, you know that the spell is working by how this moment commands absolute reverence on a popular and emotional level in a way that few other pieces of music or opera can achieve. The response at the conclusion of this Irish National Opera production shows that they successfully connected the heart of the work with the hearts of the audience in Dublin.

This production can now be viewed steaming on-line on the RTE Player.

Links: Irish National Opera

O'Dwyer - Eithne (Dublin, 2017)

Robert O'Dwyer - Eithne

Opera Theatre Company, Dublin - 2017

Fergus Sheil, Orla Boylan, Gavan Ring, Robin Tritschler, Brendan Collins, Eamonn Mulhall, Imelda Drumm, John Molloy, Robert McAllister, Rachel Croash, Eoghan Desmond, Fearghal Curtis, Conor Breen 

National Concert Hall, Dublin - 14th October 2017

Economies of scale and a troubled political history have prevented the idea of a national opera from ever really being able to establish a foothold in Ireland. It's only recently that steps have been taken to form a national opera company to replace Opera Ireland, one of the arts victims of the economic crisis that struck Ireland almost a decade ago. Irish National Opera doesn't officially come into being until 2018, but in the meantime a few of the component groups that will form the new company have been working hard to keep opera alive in the country. There has been a resurgence in contemporary opera commissions in recent years and now, quite thrillingly, there's been the rediscovery of one of the most important works in the history of Irish opera, Robert O'Dwyer's Eithne.

Eithne has the distinction of being the first full-scale opera composed in the Irish language. It was composed in 1909 by Robert O'Dwyer, who was born in Bristol of Irish parents, and the opera was last performed at the Gaiety theatre in Dublin in 1910. As the fate of Ireland was caught up in the subsequent years with the War of Independence and the Irish Civil War, O'Dwyer's Irish language opera was lost and only rediscovered when the orchestral score came up for auction in 2012. It was an occasion of some national pride then to have the opera - unheard for over 100 years - reconstructed, revived and performed once again in 2017 by the Opera Theatre Company. While Eithne is no lost masterpiece, it is nonetheless an important and even an impressive work, and it certainly impressed the audience who came to see in a one-off concert performance at the National Concert Hall in Dublin.

An unheard work by an unheard of composer, it was difficult to imagine beforehand what to expect from Eithne and just how it was going to sound.  The period of composition and the subject based on Celtic mythology however gave a few important clues and indeed the few on-line rehearsal clips posted in advance suggested a lush post-Wagnerian romanticism. In the event, there is little that is Wagnerian or even Straussian in Eithne's scale or ambition, and the music itself isn't particularly Celtic sounding, although there is a fairy-tale element to the harp music and a folk element in some of the solo violin playing. It's the rhythms and sounds of the Irish language however that provides a more recognisable character for the folk legend of Eithne, aligning it more closely to Dvořák and the fairy-tale romantic character of Rusalka.

There is a recognisable connection with Die Zauberflote and Siegfried and a romantic element too in the heroic endeavours of Ceart to become the High King of Ireland. Based on the legend of Éan an cheoil bhinn (The bird of sweet music), the Irish language libretto for Eithne was composed by the noted academic and playwright Tomás Ó Ceallaigh. In the first half of the opera, characterised by rousing choral music, Ceart is unanimously acclaimed by the people to be the successor to the High King, but his half-brothers Neart and Art conspire against him, claiming that he is responsible for the killing of the king's favourite hound. Nuala, who has brought Ceart up since the death of his mother, intervenes on his behalf and, evoking the songs of the birds when she speaks, she convinces the King of the truth and inspires him even to forgive Neart and Art.

The bird's song is heard again in the second half of the opera, and it leads the King away from the hunt. Surrounded by maidens, Eithne appears and tells of her fate, that she and her mother (Nuala) have been held captive in a spell by her father the King of Tír na nÓg (the legendary Land of Youth in Irish folklore). Ceart steps forward to challenge the Guardian Spirit of Tír na nÓg and beating him he acquires a magical ring, sword and cloak that will help him defeat the King. In order to break the spell however, Ceart has other challenges to face and, proving his worth as a warrior, as a worthy husband for Eithne and, as the death of his father is announced, as the High King of Ireland.

Evidently, there's enough magic and drama in Eithne for it to be a fine stage spectacle, and perhaps one day we might get the opportunity to see it that way, but this first and only presentation of Robert O'Dwyer's rediscovered work was presented to the Dublin audience in concert performance, where it was recorded for a future CD release. Even in concert performance, this was an impressive way to experience the opera, as it gave great opportunity not only to hear the individual singers but the work of the large chorus - so prominent through - and the terrific playing of the RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Fergus Sheil, giving the lush melodic musical qualities of the work central stage.

Despite the title of the opera being granted to Eithne, who only makes an appearance late in the opera, it was Robin Tritschler's Ceart who was unquestionably the star performance of the night. The tenor has a beautifully light lyrical tone that is reminiscent of Klaus Florian Vogt in one or two places but with a little more 'body'. A virtuous, heroic tone is required for Ceart - if not quite of the Heldentenor variety - and Tritschler delivered that in abundance. The role of Eithne has challenges, but not perhaps of the Wagnerian level either, and I thought Orla Boylan (who I last saw singing the big role of Turandot) was a little too large a voice for the role in that respect, and there was some wavering as she tried to fit to the lyrical flow. Boylan however certainly carried the romantic heroism of the role with all the essential Irish qualities that are necessary there in her voice.

There were other impressive performances in Irish-singing cast. John Molloy's smooth baritone boomed imperiously as the rumbling Giant, the Guardian Spirit of Tír na nÓg. Nuala too has a substantial presence in the first act, and singing along to the flute birdsong accompaniment, Imelda Drumm was absolutely captivating. Gavan Ring, who was instrumental in bringing Eithne back to the stage, sang the role of the High King of Ireland wonderfully and in full possession of the elevated status of the role. The heightened Irish legend qualities were boosted considerably by the chorus of the Opera Theatre Company, bringing the audience to its feet at the opera's epic conclusion. It now seems that Irish national opera not only as a future, but it now has a glorious past history to look back on as well.

Links: Opera Theatre Company, Irish National Opera, RTE webcast

Britten - Owen Wingrave (Dublin, 2017)

Benjamin Britten - Owen Wingrave

Opera Collective Ireland, 2017

Stephen Barlow, Tom Creed, Benjamin Russell, Christopher Cull, Peter O'Reilly, Roisín Walsh, Rachel Croash, Amy Ní Fherarraigh, Sarah Richmond, Andrew Boushell

O'Reilly Theatre, Dublin - 16th September 2017

Up until now Owen Wingrave has been the only Britten opera that I haven't had the opportunity to see or write about. And as good as this 2017 Opera Collective Ireland production was at the Dublin Fringe Festival - and there are certainly qualities to admire in the work - I think however I can see why it is so rarely performed. It's an opera with some very obvious flaws and certainly a lesser work by the composer.

I don't think however that anyone can question the sincerity of purpose of the opera, or Britten's fervent belief in and commitment to spreading the gospel of pacifism. Henry James's short story Owen Wingrave and the opportunity to present the work to a wider audience as a television opera might have seemed like a good vehicle to get that message across, but both seem to involve some measure of compromise with both the medium and the message.

Being written for TV presentation isn't necessarily the problem, since Britten had reservations about the new medium and strove to ensure that the opera was composed to also work as a stage drama, but there is still little of real dramatic interest in the piece. It might be a little reductive - which I think is also a fault with the opera - but essentially it seems to me to be about a young man from a family with a proud military history who says he's had enough of this war lark and doesn't want to train to be a soldier. The remainder of the opera is a series of condemnations and accusations of cowardice from his family and his fiancée's family who line up to take turns to castigate him for his decision.

There is also a ghost story element that is added to bring another dimension to the work and to show the difference between cowardice born out of fear and genuine conscientious objection to the horror of war. The supernatural element however is nowhere near as effective or of an essence to the piece as it is in Britten's other Henry James adaptation The Turn of the Screw, and it feels oddly out of place with the rather more serious intentions of the work.

Like the previous adaptation however, Britten does develop a distinctive, eerie and often challenging musical treatment for the work with greater emphasis here on percussion and use of the gamelan. Britten also makes an effort to introduce some arias and haunting 'Malo malo' moments, but the discoursive nature of the piece means that it is heavily reliant on preachy recitative. And posh preachy recitative at that, much too tied up in old family traditions and class concerns to really touch upon the essential matters at the heart of the subject.

The production design for the Opera Collective Ireland production directed by Tom Creed made some effort to update the work with references to Kandahar and the Falklands, as well as seeking to find some other ways to represent it visually, but none of them managed to enliven the work, make it any more engaging or even illustrate the at times difficult to make-out words of Myfanwy Piper's libretto. Instead of family portraits and a mansion we have a room filled with stuffed birds of prey and an isolating border wall. Projections also contribute to representational undercurrents of blind nationalism in an imposing Union Jack, and to the more sinister side of it in shadows of the hawks coming to life.

On the performance side, a good cast made the most of the roles and did their best to give them distinguishing characteristics and personality that is hard to find elsewhere in their almost unanimous condemnation of the reluctant soldier. Benjamin Russell's clear-voiced baritone was well suited to the role of Owen Wingrave and in how it blended in with Stephen Barlow's conducting of the Irish Chamber Orchestra, and Andrew Boushell's tenor soared as Sir Philip and the ballad singer. The stand-out performance however was Amy Ní Fherarraigh who cut through all the manners and mannerisms and gave us a steely, determined and frankly intimidating Mrs Julian. If only the horror of war and the supernatural elements had been depicted half as vividly as her Mrs Julian, the fate of Owen Wingrave would indeed have been something truly to fear.

Links: Opera Collective Ireland