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Chorus
Images: Chris Christodoulou |
Britten Theatre
Lisetta – Filipa van Eck
Doralice – Hannah Sandison
Madama la Rose – Angela Simkin
Filippo – Luke D Williams
Alberto – Gyula Rab
Don Pomponio – Timothy Nelson
Anselmo – Matus Tomko
Monsù Traversen – Julien van
Mellaerts
Donald Maxwell, Linda
Ormiston (directors)
Nigel Hook (designs)
John Bishop (lighting)
Louisa McAlpine
(choreography)
Chorus
Royal College of Music Opera Orchestra
Michael Rosewell (conductor)
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| Don Pomponio (Timothy Nelson) |
With but one exception, I am
delighted to report with great enthusiasm on the Royal College of Music
International Opera School’s summer show, Rossini’s La Gazzetta, performances and staging alike at least the equal of last
year’s sparkling Offenbach production, La
Vie parisienne. Donald Maxwell and Linda Ormiston update the action,
such as it is, to the 1990s, though I cannot help but think that their synopsis
overplays the idea of ‘the power and reach of newspapers’, in the opera at
least, if not necessarily in Goldoni’s original play. At any rate, we have an
array of madcap antics, colourfully designed by Nigel Hook, brilliantly lit and
choreographed by John Bishop and Louisa McAlpine choreographed. The Neapolitan
figure of fun, Don Pomponio, has his erstwhile assistant turn glamorous female
(and thus now Tomassina); vividly portrayed by Kelly Mathieson, despite her
total lack of words and music, this is intended as a ‘tribute to Italy’s most
famous care home assistant’, the attitude and words of other characters
reflecting that Berlusonci-like turn. And so, from the opening hotel lobby
sequence, in which hotel guests (a Welsh male-voice choir!) sing something
inconsequential, until the ‘Turkish’ disguises and inevitable, unsurprising ‘revelations’
of the finale, in which again something inconsequential is sung, visual
spectacle is impeccable.
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| Lisetta (Filipa van Eck) |
Vocal performances were
splendid too. This is not easy music to sing, but bar the odd intonational slip
here and there, every member of the cast offered something promising indeed.
Timothy Nelson’s Don Pomponio succeeded – a tricky task, with an English
audience – in conveying the ‘peculiarity’ of the character’s Neapolitan
dialogue. Filipa van Eck stole the show more than once as his daughter,
Lisetta; there is quite a range here, and estimable accuracy to boot. She
clearly also relished the stage opportunities –wonderfully tasteless costumes included
– her nouveau riche character offered.
Gyula Rab had an excellent line in the imploring, lovelorn tenor, generally
singing as handsomely as his unmistakeably Italianate costuming suggested. Hannah
Sandison’s tone hardened at times, but was for the most part focused, strong
and yet, when required, touchingly vulnerable. Luke D Williams proved himself
once again an excellent baritone with real stage presence. Angela Simkin’s
Madama la Rose proved far more than the mere foil to which the plot more or
less reduces her, possessing genuinely ear-catching moments of her own. The
roles of Anselmo and Monsù Traversen are smaller, yet there could be no
complaints concerning the contributions of Matus Tomo and Julien van Mellaerts,
likewise from the chorus of soloists who completed the action. Though small in
size, the orchestra conjured up a truly Rossini-like sound under Michael
Rosewell. If Rosewell had the overture stop and start a bit too often – largely
Rossini’s fault, but such faults can be mitigated – then precision, colour, and
vivacity were very much to the fore later on. Wind solos in particular were
highly distinguished.
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| Alberto (Gyula Rab) |
That sole reservation? The
opera itself, I am afraid. I shall not dwell on the matter, especially since
such performances are intended at least as much as a showcase for highly
talented young singers as anything else. (In that respect, I should not be
surprised to hear more from all of them over the coming years.) It is
difficult, ultimately, to imagine, however, why anyone should care about these
characters, and the ‘fizz’ soon wears off. La
Gazzetta is not a short work, and such slight material – someone placing an
advertisement in a newspaper for a potential husband for his daughter and the
all-too-typical disguiges, misunderstandings, etc. – can hardly support the considerable
length of such a work. As so often with Rossini, the music is curiously
interchangeable; would it really matter if any of it were moved anywhere else,
or indeed to a different opera? Such ‘æsthetics’ have their apologists, of
course; tedium sets in quickly for the rest of us. Parsifal seems far shorter by comparison.
Nevertheless, many
congratulations to the cast and production team for displaying such commitment
to an opera whose merits remain dubious. If you are a Rossini enthusiast, you
certainly should not hesitate; likewise if you simply wish to hear some fine
singing.
