Showcase Reviews 2003

The Times, June 2, 2003
Hilary Finch

The National Opera Studio’s annual Showcase is always a small miracle of casting – an operatic panorama from a dozen or so trainee singers – and cohesion, binding dislocated tableaux into a satisfying whole. But this year, as the Studio looks forward to moving at long last into a new home, its head of music, Roy Laughlin, conducting the Royal Ballet Sinfonia, ensured that it excelled even its own increasingly high standards.

So how to move from Der Freischütz to Carmen, and on to Eugene Onegin and Don Giovanni, visiting Donizetti, Humperdinck and Masenet on the way? Daniel Slater, directing, and Yannis Thavoris, designing, had devised a single scenario: an art gallery, on the night of the private view, all hung visuals, installations, and the obligatory – to opera as much as to art – unmade bed.

As Der Freischütz’s Agathe is waiting for her lover, a picture ominously falls off the wall. Well, that gives the cue – and Rebecca von Lipinski’s chic gallery-owner of an Agathe looked out into the night and sang her melancholy aria with true lunar beauty. No sooner had the beloved appeared than he was transformed into Don José (Adrian Dwyer), to Doreen Curran’s leather-clad, feisty mezzo of a Carmen. If her castanet-dance, preceding his edgily robust Flower Song concentrated sex more into the body than the voice, then the transition, via an army officer who instantly became Belcore of L’elisir d’amore, was no less canny.

This was Mathias Hausmann, a stongly focused, highly intelligent dark baritone who would later appear as a much put-upon Leporello to Adam Green’s formidably characterised, snorting, shooting-up Don Giovanni. If directorial virtuosity threatened to upstage the young singers for whom, after all , the evening existed, then the wide-eyed, bright-hued voices of Trine Bastrup Moller’s Hansel and, particularly, Claire Ormshaw’s Gretel restored the focus. Emma Gane’s admirably idiomatic and Gallic Cendrillon met her Prince Charmant in the outstanding mezzo Caitlin Hulcup who, in silvery Beckham gear, was a reminder of the gently pervasive theme of a glittering yet doomed celeb culture. Young singers and entrepreneurs beware!

On to Eugene Onegin, and one of the real shooting stars of the evening, Camilla Roberts, whose Tatyana bared every nerve of Tchaikovsky’s writing in a gleaming and fearless soprano. And, finally, Don Giovanni’s descent into a drug-induced hell brought back Roberts as Donna Anna, von Lipinsky as Elvirea, and the entire cast to point the finger and take the bow.

Opera
Patrick O’Connor

The annual concert by singers at the National Opera Studio was also a celebration of 25 years of the organization’s work and progress. Later this year the studio will at last have a home of its own in a converted chapel in Wandsworth. In his concluding speech, Donald Maxwell, the NOS Director, drew special attention to the contribution of the répétiteurs, Benjamin Bayl and Jeremy Bines, who work with the singers. This crucial aspect of the work of any opera ensemble clearly pays off, since all those involved gave performances of confidence, with every sign of in-depth study of the music. Roy Laughlin conducted the Royal Ballet Sinfonia in scenes from German, French, Italian and Russian operas and, in the absence of any English Opera, the final scenes from Don Giovanni were given in David Parry’s translation.

Sopranos first – Rebecca von Lipinski and Emma Gane started the evening with a scene from Act 2 of Der Freischütz. It was easier for Gane to bubble as Aennchen than it was for Lipinski quite to mount all the hurdles of ‘Leise, leise’, but she suggested the anxiety of Agathe’s longing. The whole of the Carmen-Don José duet from Act 2 of Bizet’s opera followed, Doreen Curran, whose earthy mezzo already has plenty of individuality, overwhelming the José of Adrian Dwyer. The Flower Song was achieved without disaster, but also without the sort of soft singing one was really hoping for. Maybe having José undress while Carmen was dancing wasn’t such a fine idea.

Part of Act 1 of L’elisir d’amore was next, the scene in which Nemorino agrees to sign on as a soldier. Nicholas Sharratt was charming as Nemorino, seeming totally inside a distinct and individual reading of the part. Mathias Hausmann, singing Belcore, was the most experienced performer (he has already sung this role in at least one production and has several recordings listed). He has a well-produced baritone with plenty of body in the tone, but I thought he was more convincing later in the evening as Leporello. The same goes for Adam Green, who seemed miscast as Dulcamara but proved to be a sleazy and dangerous Don Giovanni.

Trine Bastrup Møller made a bouncy Hänsel and Claire Ormshaw a touching Gretel in a scene from Act 1 of Humperdinck’s opera; Emma Gane reappeared to sing the Sandman. She was the only singer to take on three roles, starting the second half with the beautiful scene for Cinderella in Act 1 of Massenet’s Cendrillon. This was followed by the Princes’s aria from Act 2, with Caitlin Hulcup projecting a voice that sounded rich and characterful, even though some of the climactic notes were slightly over-stressed. The duet that followed produced the finest singing of the evening, Hulcup’s mezzo blending perfectly with Gane’s soprano.

The most ambitious duet of the night was one that clearly found favour with the audience: Christopher Dixon and Camilla Roberts in the final scene of Yevgeny Onegin. The Russian sounded authentic, the passion was there, and after giving their all in this, it is a tribute to their stamina that both singers were back a few minutes later for the final sextet from Don Giovanni. Before that, Green and Hausmann were joined by Martin Robson as the Commendatore for the graveyard scene.

The excerpts were directed by Daniel Slater in a single set by Yannis Thavoris. This represented a modern art gallery, with objects on display that were used in the course of each scene: a portrait on the wall for Agathe, which later served as the Commendatore’s monument; a flask in a case for Nemorino; a bed for Carmen and José that was later occupied by Giovanni. It was harmless fun, sometimes like a parody of so many updated productions. However, I still object – no matter what timeframe it’s placed in – to Don Giovanni eating his supper, à la Calixto Bieito, like some drunken lout, in this case throwing a Chinese takeaway all over the sheets.