Philip Glass - Akhnaten
English National Opera, London - 2019
Karen Kamensek, Phelim McDermott, Anthony Roth Costanzo, Rebecca Bottone, James Cleverton, Colin Judson, Zachary James, Katie Stevenson, Keel Watson, Charlotte Shaw, Hazel McBain, Rosie Lomas, Elizabeth Lynch, Martha Jones, Angharad Lyddon
The Coliseum, London - 2 March 2019
36 years after it was first performed, it's still difficult to place Philip Glass's Akhnaten alongside either traditional or contemporary opera. Where it fits in Glass's repertoire is easier to identify. Akhnaten (1983) is the third part of the composer's Portrait Trilogy of operas, following Einstein on the Beach (1976) and Satyagraha (1980), three works still very much informed by Glass's experiments with minimalism or repetitive music with gradually changing parts. By Akhnaten we also see the composer move gradually away (with changing parts) from the rigid minimalism of his earlier works to incorporate more traditional forms and instrumentation, even if it still remains largely distinct from the classical idiom.
If it's still hard then to pin-down that 'in-between' cross-over period of Glass in the early eighties musically (for me personally his most interesting, creative and indeed even highly influential period, taking in his soundtracks to Mishima and Koyaanisqatsi), the visual presentation and performance aspect of any opera is vital to better assess the quality and nature of a work, and there Akhnaten aligns a little easier with a more traditional medium, albeit still (just about) within that cross-over experimental period that makes it more interesting. Essentially Akhnaten is Grand Opera, or the minimalist equivalent of Grand Opera.
Traces of the philosophy behind the artistic experimentalism of the New York scene of the 70s still remain in Akhnaten, not least Glass's early work with theatre director Robert Wilson and dancer and choreographer Lucinda Childs. It's the overall concept or underlying philosophy behind the works in the Portrait Trilogy that are important and the influence that their central figures have over modern views on science (Einstein), politics (Gandhi) and religion (Akhnaten) are too expansive and intangible to be reductively made to fit a narrative.
Einstein on the Beach is the most abstract of the trilogy, Glass, Wilson and Childs collaboratively creating an environment for the music, theatre and dance to interact to create an alternative form of musical/theatrical narrative. Satyagraha is structured very differently, built around distinct real-life incidents in Gandhi's life, tying them to his influence on Tolstoy and Martin Luther-King and setting the whole thing to a libretto sung in Sanskrit and taken from the Bhagavad Gita. By the time we get to Akhnaten, there is still no clear or traditional narrative line to follow, but there is a linear progression of Akhnaten's coronation following the death of his father Amenhotep, his marriage to Nefertiti and his foundation of a new monotheistic religion.
The setting and ceremonial aspect of the situations (funeral, wedding, religion) perhaps makes it unavoidable, but in terms of presentation and performance, Akhnaten has less to do with the experimentation that informed Einstein on the Beach and Satyagraha and resembles nothing so much as Aida. There's less of an effort to fit anti-war sentiments into a romantic melodrama narrative, and yet Akhnaten does have those qualities in its own peculiar way, and it certainly achieves an impact that is commensurate with Aida. Anyone who thinks that Glass's repetitive rhythms and arpeggios are mechanical and devoid of emotional content need only listen to the love duet of Act II to see that there is an expression as deeply romantic as any of the love duets and arias of Aida and Radamès.
After his spectacular new production of Satyagraha, it was inevitable that Phelim McDermott would be the director capable of putting a strong visual and thematic stamp upon Akhnaten. It proves to be one that not only matches the setting and period of the work in an otherworldly manner, but it works along with Glass's abstract presentation of the scenes that rely on ancient Egyptian texts and inscriptions, which are used not so much for 'authenticity' as for attaining an almost spiritual or transcendental dimension. In this Akhnaten's repetitive rhythms, marching beats and building crescendos are texturally much richer than the operas that precede it.
Another important quality to the presentation is simply engaging the audience's attention in the absence of any traditional musical or dramatic narrative; the audience still needs something to keep them amused during the long repetitive instrumental or chanted choral scenes that evidently are not subtitled (and wouldn't be all that more meaningful if they were). The idea of having a framing backdrop with posed figures like moving hieroglyphics is an obvious idea, and it does look spectacular. It doesn't strive for 'naturalism' otherwise it would (and indeed has in the past) just look like Aida. McDermott's stylisations, rather like the original English premiere of the work, go for an almost science-fiction world to emphasise the mysterious alien quality of ancient Egypt.
Other tableaux scenes are equally impressive in their lighting, colouration and movement, although for the latter McDermott relies too heavily here on jugglers; it's hypnotic for a few minutes, but nearly three hours of juggling routines is stretching it a bit. Those long building instrumental passages cry out for the kind of dance choreography Lucinda Childs would have provided or the abstract mood that Robert Wilson lighting and spacial geometrics might have produced. A troupe of jugglers throwing balls in the air only goes so far and certainly doesn't engage with the spiritual dimension that the opera aspires towards.
In terms of musical and singing performances however the ENO production is right on the mark. Akhnaten's arrangements have their own challenges and it can't be easy to balance those swirling keyboard runs with brass fanfares, flute and string arrangements, and get the choral and individual singers to weave through it all. Conductor Karen Kamensek however delivered a superbly hypnotic performance that hit the dramatic ceremonial high points and brought out the human emotional undercurrents superbly. Anthony Roth Costanzo really soars, his voice pure and otherworldly in this register to this type of score and Kate Stevenson is no less incredible alongside him. Rebecca Bottone also impresses as Queen Tye, the chorus are superb. With this kind of revival Akhnaten, like the other recently revived works in the Glass Portrait Trilogy, are proving to be special works that still hold a unique place in the world of opera.
Links: English National Opera
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Idomeneo
Buxton Festival, 2018
Nicholas Kok, Stephen Medcalf, Paul Nilon, Rebecca Bottone, Heather Lowe, Madeleine Pierard, Ben Thapa, Richard Dowling, Julian Debreuil
Buxton Opera House - 19th July 2018
As well as working on a trilogy of rare early Verdi works over the last couple of years, the Buxton Festival have also been presenting a number of Mozart's early operas that aren't quite as well known and rarely staged. Like early Verdi these can be a mixed bag but very worthwhile if you can find and show the qualities and the promise in the works. La Finta Giardiniera proved to be an absolute delight in Buxton's staging, wonderfully effervescent and playful, but Lucio Silla last year on the other hand came across as rather dour and uneventful. Idomeneo is certainly the best of early Mozart and consequently it is always worth exploring, but in contrast to some exciting and ambitious recent readings of the work elsewhere, Buxton's approach doesn't initially seem to have a great deal to bring to the work.
For an opera that is very much connected to the sea and the curse of Neptune, Stephen Medcalf's production somewhat counter-intuitively sets the whole three acts of Idomeneo within a dry room that is semi-buried in a sand drift. It's a simple enough image that does capture some sense of the domestic drama at the heart of the plot as well as the forces of nature at the heart of the work without having to be overly literal. If Roderick Williams and Iain Burnside could bring all the heart-freezing sentiments of Schubert's Winterreise fully into being earlier in the day during one of the hottest summers on record in the UK, well there's no reason why Buxton can't likewise test the effectiveness of Mozart's setting of Idomeneo. And you wouldn't bet against Mozart winning through.
With the same set designed by Isabella Bywater unchanged for all three acts, and only open doors and windows for the characters and chorus to make their entrances and exits, there was no other apparent concept or original reading applied. If there was any area in which Buxton's Idomeneo differed from other recent productions, it was that Stephen Medcalf took a rather more balanced view of the contrasting forces at work in the opera. This was one of the kindest and most gentle Idomeneos I've seen, particularly in its sympathetic treatment of Electra and Idomeneo, more often seen as the villains in the piece. That does actually place a very different perspective on the work, but you really have to wait a long time in this opera seria for its impact to come through.
In terms of characterisation and relationships and how they are expressed through the opera seria medium, the production is fairly 'dry'. Idomeneo's indecision, vacillation and agonising over his rash promise to Neptune to kill his own son as a sacrificial offering doesn't cut much ice in terms of eliciting sympathy. Idamante and Ilia's romance feels rather wet and unlikely to ever get off the ground, each of them delicately stepping around the subject. In such a situation where everyone is being 'nice' and non-committal, Electra seems to have the best potential to break through here and shake the opera up, but she too seems to take it rather philosophically, mildly disappointed at her rejection by Idamante rather than filled with righteous vengeance.
How much is down to the direction and how much down to the characterisation adopted by the singers and even how much of it is down to Mozart's music potentially being rather too generous is debatable. The singing is good all around, but little of it seems to express any real personality, particularly when you want and expect an Electra full of fire and fury. But as the opera exerts its own momentum a strong central figure does emerge, and in contrast to the tendency to portray him as weak, indecisive and no longer fit to rule, it's Idomeneo who surprisingly takes centre stage. After all, the opera is named after him, so there is merit in looking more closely at his role in the drama.
And when you're looking towards characterisation in a Mozart opera, the best gauge of that is by listening to the music that Mozart writes for the characters. Mozart at this age may perhaps not have the depth and insight into human nature that is evident in is greater mature works, but he is by no means restricted by the conventions of the opera seria format, and even at this stage shows tremendous ability to create fully rounded characters out of what is a very limited dramatic situation. And it's only fully rounded by the time you get to the end of the work. So as austere as the production and the music might seem, Mozart's personality, his innovations with the form, his undoubted attention to Gluck's reformist agenda and his own sense of melody and dramatic flow still strike you as astounding. Austere it is not, but rich in detail, alive at every moment and never indulgent.
Conducted by Nicholas Kok, the music was allowed to exert its own force and carry the momentum of the accumulated scenes. Stephen Medcalf follows this line also and allows Idomeneo's curse, fate and fall to emerge from it as the true heart of the work. Idamante's love, generosity and humanity are important and Heather Lowe gives voice to that, just as Madeleine Pierard expresses Electra's anger but doesn't allow it to overwhelm and dominate. In line with Mozart's music, it's Paul Nilon who makes every moment of Idomeneo's agony to be truly felt, seemingly possessed by an evil spirit that forces him to enact the promised sacrifice, fighting with himself and his guilt at surviving the sea-wreck. Quite brilliantly supporting this interpretation, Neptune, when he makes his appearance at the end of the opera speaks chillingly through the possessed body of Idomeneo.
If the Buxton production of Idomeneo shows us anything it's that Mozart's writing is capable of supporting other readings and interpretations, but even in its purest and most austere form and despite its serious nature, it's a rich and involving work in its own right. Allowing each of the characters voice (although Arbace is inevitably cut back here, he's far from essential to the overall impact), allowing the set pieces to have their place - the placing of the Act III quartet 'Andrò ramingo e solo' absolutely pivotal and hugely impressive here - allowing the chorus - likewise impressive - to contribute their part, is what really drives this work and makes Idomeneo an endlessly fascinating work if you stick with it and most importantly, give Mozart's music its place.
Links: Buxton Festival
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
