A poster on Paddington tube station advertising the recent Ellen Kent and Opera International production of Carmen drew the viewer’s attention to why it was clearly going to be an unmissable event.
Was it the quality of the principal singers - their vocal and dramatic integrity? Was it the honesty of the dramatic intentions behind the production - the clear attempt to investigate and resolve the psychological tensions of the piece? Was it even the high level of the orchestral ensemble? None of the above. The focal attractions of the production were to be ‘the famous Romale Gyspy Dance Troupe and the white Spanish stallion featured in the film Gladiator’. A glance at the company’s web site warns prospective attendees that the ‘horse appears at selected venues only’. Goodness, that could have been a big disappointment. Remind me not to miss Rigoletto either - that will feature hunting dogs and hawks.
The question must be what does the presence of these animals - dear as they may be - contribute to the audience’s understanding and enjoyment of the opera.
Does one really suppose that Bizet and Verdi wrote their operas envisaging the use of wild beasts, which they would surely see only as detracting from their work and reducing the production to the level of pantomime? Even Mozart, for all his excesses, would probably have shied away from the prospect of a starring role for a giant iguana in the opening scene of The Magic Flute.
The justification for these extravagances is quite clear, of course. To bring opera to the so-called masses, the music is evidently not enough, and the public must be lured by something else - the bigger, brasher and more anachronistic the better. The drawback to this is obviously not only the cost involved but also the underselling of the true product. The music of Rigoletto is sublime and the story compelling - can hunting dogs and hawks possibly enhance it? Interestingly, the West End production of Les Miserables - like Rigoletto, based on a Victor Hugo story - relies on no such enhancement.
The sets are large, but not excessive, and the colour provided by the skillfully drawn range of characters and the memorable, lyrical score.
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The need to subliminate the real heart of the operatic genre -score and libretto - to a policy of the bigger and more extravagant the better is a sad reflection on what producers believe the modern audience requires.
Whilst it may certainly draw in the crowds, it cannot possibly give anyone, least of all a novice opera goer, a genuine appreciation of what opera truly has to offer. The recent Calixto Bleito production of A Masked Ball at the ENO is a case in point. Who can remember anything about them other than the opening scene in a men’s lavatory and the homosexual rape? If these were the elements which drew the attention of the critics, and inevitably the audience, the production has become the master, not the servant, of the score.
I have been fortunate enough to be involved in productions of La clemenza di Tito, Orfeo ed Euridice and Idomeneo which have been produced on a shoe string budget. Money is spent on a 20+ strong professional orchestra; imagination is spent on production.
With a chorus of 12, dressed simply in black with coordinating eye masks, starkly effective modern military costume for the male/trousered principals, and nothing but a simple chair and red and gold drapes as set dressing, the West End News wrote of Tito: ‘An atmospheric production, helmed by an obviously competent director’. No horses or elephants, no swimming pools, no costumes designed by Chanel; nothing but the integrity of Mozart’s score, and of a cast committed to producing the best for each other, for the audience, and for composer and librettist.
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