Opera della Luna, Empire Theatre, Eden Court, Inverness, 4 May 2011

ZANY- yes. Unconventional – certainly. Comic – really it transcended into farce and pantomime. Perhaps it is just me, but no matter how hard everybody tried and no matter how much thought and effort had gone into it, this production of Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus by Opera Della Luna left me somewhat underwhelmed. Basically, it was a BBC three performance playing to a BBC Two audience. It was Wills and Kate getting married in a registry office rather than Westminster Abbey.
What is it about opera directors that they have to exercise their artistic egos and reinvent the operas they are directing? What has happened to the old adage, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”? The last production of Fledermaus that I saw had Eisenstein as a professional footballer and Orlofsky as an east European oligarch in a Hearts shirt. Topical at the time, but what happens if the production is revived?

Opera della Luna's Die Fledermaus

In similar vein, this Opera Della Luna production had Eisenstein as a rich businessman with a cocaine habit, and, instead of being sent to prison for tax misdemeanours as Strauss would have us believe, he is committed by a court to a week in a rehab clinic, increased to three weeks on appeal. Now I don’t claim to know much about addiction therapy, but I would have thought clinics are used by people who accept they need treatment rather than being sent there by the courts.

This twist on the conventional plot is not original. Ten years ago in Salzburg the director, Hans Neuenfels turned the waltzing revellers into orgiastic cocaine fiends. Many Strauss fans were offended and one even sued the Salzburg Festival. And on the eve of the Scottish Parliamentary elections, it did not help to read the programme essay by Simon Butteriss, entitled “A British Bat” referring throughout to the English and their attitude to operetta.

The other factor that did not help was when I tried to find out something about the company, Opera Della Luna, as this was the first of their productions that I had seen. Google did its duty, and there was an excerpt from the production on YouTube, surrounded by several cuts from the film of the 1984 revival of the Royal Opera production that had its first performance on 31 December 1977. I was lucky enough to be at that first performance and seeing those cuts reminded me of just how spectacular it was then and how fresh it still is in 2011.

Now, I do not expect Opera Della Luna to come up with a cast headed by Hermann Prey, Kiri Te Kanawa and Benjamin Luxon, with an orchestra conducted by Placido Domingo and an on-stage cameo act during Prince Orlofsky’s party by Daniel Barenboim. But I do level at them exactly the same criticism as I levelled at Scottish Opera’s small scale Fledermaus a few years ago. Eight characters make it a mighty inadequate champagne party in the second act, especially for a party at the home of a rich prince.

Gabriella Csanyi-Wills’ set for the opening act, in the Eisenstein apartment, was Daliesque, with picture frames and coat-stands suspended in mid-air, a rather nondescript back-cloth and modern furniture. I got the feeling it was designed for a space much more constricted than the ample area of the Empire Theatre.

The set for the party at Orlofsky’s was just as eccentric, with snow covered trees in the backdrop, a quartet of polar bears and the antics of a troupe of escapees from The Rocky Horror Show appearing to take place in the open air. But why was it chronologically moved to Hallowe’en Night? Die Fledermaus is based on the French farce by Halévy and Meilhac, Le Réveillon, the name given to an all-night party which to this day in Francophone countries celebrates both Christmas Eve and Hogmanay. And the third act set, in the Frank Clinic for Addiction Therapy, of five cubicles covered in black and white hallucinogenic shapes around a central desk was enough to remind the inmates why they were there.

Jeff Clarke’s direction, too, was conceived for the smaller space, or so it would seem from the lack of projection by the singers who were overpowered by the musicians from start to finish. Or maybe that was a technical matter with the piano, flute and percussion being over-amplified. According to the programme there was also a clarinet, an oboe, a cello and a bass in the pit, but they cannot have been amplified at all. Certainly, this was a chamber production expanded for the fuller stage.

Perhaps this lack of balance can be attributed in part to the singers having to conserve their voices for the punishing schedule that finance imposes on small independent touring opera companies such as Opera Della Luna. Just look at this week for the company. Two shows in Aberdeen, followed by one in Inverness, then Whitley Bay, Arbroath and Berwick, with everything and everyone packed into a box van and a minibus. Whoever said that the life of an opera singer was exotic?

It is accepted that this much-loved old friend has received a directorial mauling, but it must be left with some redeeming features. Firstly, it is reassuring to see eight young operatic artists who are able to act as well as to sing. From the first moment when Helen Massey as Adele the maid arrived on stage, without exception the cast displayed a sense of comic timing that drew the best from Jeff Clarke’s new translation from the original German.

As Rosalinde, Sarah Redgwick was suitably flirtatious as she reluctantly fought off the attentions of Alfred, incessantly sung by tenor Carlos Nogueira, and imperious as she played the mysterious masked Hungarian Countess at Orlofsky’s party. Both know Scotland well, although they are two graduates from the Guildhall in London, as she has had several roles with Scottish Opera and he went on to become a prize-winner at the RSAMD.

Stephen Svanholm, an Opera Della Luna stalwart, oozed revenge as Falke, Eisenstein’s friend who had been the victim of a practical joke, determined to get his own back. He is the master of ceremonies for the whole plot with everyone else dangling from his fingers like puppets.

The forces available to the company dictated some doubling up of roles, notably Angela Simkin who played both Adele’s sister Ida, a dancer from the ballet, and Dr Blind, Eisenstein’s lawyer who is normally a tenor. By making this character a trouser role, it opened up the hilarious episode in the last act of a cross-dressing Eisenstein. Then again, Strauss scored the role of Prince Orlofsky as a mezzo-soprano which has resulted in no small number of memorable performances over the years by many of the great names of the operatic world. In this production the role was most effectively played by Oliver White, a convivial if suitably blasé host for the champagne party.

But for sheer comic brilliance, the trophy must be shared by Andy Morton and Philip Cox as Eisenstein and Frank. The concept of having them as drunken revellers going through the audience like pantomime comics during the short break between the second and third acts was plain genius, even if their flamboyant fancy dress costumes were covered by coats.

I remain to be convinced whether it is necessary, or even desirable, to reinterpret well-known operas and operettas to suit somebody’s idea of modernisation. Die Fledermaus was conceived in and works well in a mid-19th century setting and I have yet to see a modernised version that even begins to measure up to a traditional production. What would have improved this Opera Della Luna production would have been to stay at Eden Court for two evenings, but in the more intimate setting of the OneTouch Theatre.

© James Munro, 2011

Links

• Opera della Luna