The House Husband

It occurred to me last night as I sat in the second row of the Ambassador’s Theatre in Woking, that I’m not very knowledgeable when it comes to opera. I think I could pick a bum note and I can appreciate a good set and costumes but, basically, the mechanics of performance is not my forte.

This means I nearly always enjoy it. One of the things that (sort of) spoils theatre for me is knowing the theatrical tricks or comparing what I would have achieved in a particular role. It changes my role from passive viewer to rabid critic! But not so with opera.

So, for that reason, I can never really judge an opera with the same level of expertise as I do live theatre. It probably explains why I generally just immerse myself in it and just enjoy it. Sometimes it can even make me cry. Like last night.

I was in Woking to see the Ukrainian National Opera of Kharkiv production of La Traviata directed by some well known woman called Ellen Kent. And I loved it!

All lit up for La Traviata

An opera of great tragedy, La Traviata (based on the Dumas play and novel, La Dame aux Camellias) tells the story of Violetta, a Paris courtesan who, reluctantly, falls in love with an admirer, and gives up her dissolute life to go and live with him in the country. Her love, Alfredo, is deliriously happy until his father visits Violetta and convinces her to leave his son rather than ruin him because of her past.

Violetta, heartbroken and dying of tuberculosis, agrees and returns to her Paris life of pleasure. Alfredo, intent on winning her back, goes after her but winds up in a duel with her old lover, Baron Douphol who has once more claimed her attentions.

Eventually, Violetta is left alone in a garrett, closing in on death, the carnival just outside her walls. Alfredo returns in the knick of time, professing his love and saying they will now be together forever. His father chips in with effusive apologies. But, for Violetta, there is no happily ever after and she dies in Alfredo’s arms.

Now I’m no authority on La Traviata (it’s the first time I’ve seen it) but I thought Maria Tonina as Violetta was wonderful. Apart from being able to hold a tune, she was gorgeous, every bit the beautiful, glittering party animal she needs to be.

Image scanned from the programme - Alfredo behind her

As her descent towards death is hastened, she changes, her pain and illness changing her until, at the end, she looks pale and ghostly. If you ignore the fact that she was singing, she was utterly convincing. When she died, I cried.

I have read a review of this production that claims there wasn’t any emotional connection between the main characters but I disagree based on last night’s performance. Ruslan Zinevych as Alfredo played the smitten lover convincingly and his love for her was obvious. His desperation to understand her leaving was also intense. And when she dies, his great sorrow was obvious.

Also Ievgenii Lysytskyi (who has to have one of the worst names I’ve ever had to type) was fabulous as Alfredo’s father. Mind you, I never forgave him, no matter how much he pleaded at the end. While Violetta was obviously going to die, he didn’t have to ruin her last days!

I thoroughly enjoyed almost every bit of it. The one thing that I didn’t enjoy was Stefan Donos as Baron Douphol who I thought wooden and just ‘going through the motions’. Ok, he could sing but he could’ve turned up! In theatre we have a saying: There’s no small parts, just small actors and I think Stefan needs to take heed. The Baron isn’t a big part, it’s true, but it’s a part that should give a performer a chance to at least look interested in what’s going on. It was like watching a waxwork with moveable lips.

Fortunately the Baron wasn’t there a lot so we could just soak up Violetta and Alfredo as their lives plummeted towards tragedy and death.

There was a good crowd there – I was by far the scruffiest as most of the men were in suits – and they were very appreciative at the end, cheering and whistling when Violetta bowed. Curiously, the chorus didn’t get a curtain call, just the main singers. Saved us booing the Baron, I guess.

Last night I went into Woking to meet Tom. Given the fact that I unexpectedly ran into him on Wednesday night, it doesn’t surprise me that I ran into Lara on the way to the theatre. Actually, this shouldn’t be so surprising, I walked right by where she works and it was just after 6pm.

I arrived at the Wheatsheaf and we had a pint and a half and a jolly good old chat for an hour then walked over to the theatre. Tom was going home so I bade him farewell and made my way into the stalls.

Firstly, the house was remarkably full. I know Glyndbourne is very highly regarded and last year there was a pretty healthy audience, but I wouldn’t have thought this opera would have attracted many. But, hey, what do I know. Maybe Monteverdi’s The Coronation of Poppea is an opera fan’s favourite. The stalls were full and there were people in the circle above.

Secondly, perhaps because of the size of the audience but more likely because of the heating, it was very warm. This made it increasingly difficult to stay awake. This is not a comment on the production!

The opera was written in 1643 and was (not quite) the first to be written about a real historical event. It concerns Nero’s decision to divorce his wife, Ottavia and marry, instead, his lover Poppea. It is a wonderful celebration of the best in Roman debauch. It also features the first nude scene I’ve ever encountered in an opera.

The male solo parts were originally written for castrata so all but one were sung by women, men not likely to be able to hit the high notes while in possession of their testicles. In saying that, the guy playing Ottone (Christopher Ainslie) managed to do it, though his voice wasn’t that strong. Anyway, what this meant last night was there was an awful lot of unintentional girl-on-girl action! Still, I digress.

After a prologue featuring a bet between a few gods, we are straight into Poppea’s bedroom. Nero is there as well and they’ve clearly just had a good time. She doesn’t want him to go; he doesn’t want to go. After some singing and groping, and almost ending up back on the bed, Nero leaves.

It was at about this time that a mobile phone went off. Very loud. Right next to me. As the man scrambled to get it out of his pocket, the volume increased enough to drown out the singing. Very annoying. Apparently it was a delivery company telling him when his bookshelves were due to be delivered. He told most of us this at the interval.

Like jamming devices, I think there should be activation devices which make all mobile phones within range ring at the same time. These should be activated just before the show starts. It would solve the problem. I know exactly what Karen is thinking if she’s reading this and I don’t think we should go into that.

Act 1 dragged a bit. There was a lot of relationship stuff and not a lot (read none) of action. All necessary, of course but it made it hard to stay awake. Actually, I wasn’t very successful and managed to doze a few times.

Acts 2 & 3, however, were much better. While not exactly full of action, there was a lot of tension. Particularly noticeable was the scene where Nero drowns a guy in a bath. Nero (played superbly by Lucia Cirillo) was menacing and evil. He reminded me of a small mafia boss who enjoyed his power so much that he actively engaged in murder because he could. Ms Cirillo was wonderful to watch, her voice strong and controlled. If for nothing else, the show was worth seeing for her.

My favourite scene, however, was Drusilla in the bath. A bath on wheels had been wheeled on for the murder scene and remained for her to sink into (surrounded by maids in order to protect her privacy). A long line of servants then filed onto the stage holding trays with something strange wobbling on them. They would vanish into the midst of the maids then reappear without the wobbly stuff, the trays now empty. When the lights came up and the maids dispersed, Drusilla was revealed, lying back in the bath, her body covered in foam. For that was what was on the trays.

Drusilla (the gorgeous Manuela Bisceglie) spent most of the scene in the bath until the man she loved, Ottone, appeared to tell her he had to go and kill Poppea on the orders of Ottavia. She grabbed a towel and slipped out of the bath in that clever way woman can, showing nothing. The rest of the scene was spent in the towel her legs glistening with bath water. And she wasn’t faking it either. At one point she flashes Ottone by holding the towel open. While we could only see her from the side, she was definitely naked.

Everything ends happily for some and pretty bad for others and the opera finishes with a wonderful duet between Nero and Poppea. The sound of their voices stayed in my head all the way home. I’ve found a version on Youtube and have embedded it below. No real pictures but the sound is lovely.

Which leads me to say that there were no real tunes in Poppea. I know it’s an opera and not a musical (it would make a fantastic musical though – someone should tell Sondheim) but most operas have a memorable song or two. Poppea has none. This is not necessarily a bad thing as it makes it all a bit more realistic even while being just a bunch of people warbling in Italian to each other rather than talking.

Suffice to say that I enjoyed it. Not as much as last year but still quite a lot. Not enough tragedy, I guess.

If you’d like to know more about the opera, there’s a wiki page here.

I worked in the garden this afternoon, removing the two strawberry plants I put in two years ago. They had managed to completely cover the bed they were in, multiplying to around a thousand plants. Unfortunately, among the strawberry plants and the assorted weeds were some nasty nettles. After a chance brushing against my hand, I put my gardening gloves on!

Of course this was in the afternoon after lunch in town with Mirinda. The day wasn’t as hot as it has been and our wander round St Katherine Docks and the Tower was very pleasant.

We discovered an amazing sculpture. It is a massive sundial, designed by Wendy Taylor in 1973 and seems to be floating in space because it is held in place by three big chains. There is a gnomon poking through the middle of the circular time piece. It is this that the sun strikes and casts a shadow. But here’s the thing, although the sun was out and we were casting shadows, the sundial had no shadow! I figured the batteries were flat.

The sundial is just down from Tower Bridge, which looked fantastic so close. We wandered back to the gherkin along the river bank, passing the tourist hordes milling around the many entrances to the Tower.

Another lovely Wednesday.

Sundial at entrance to St Katherine Docks

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I watched a programme about the opera singer, Danielle de Niese tonight. Apart from an amazing voice, a great, sparkling personality and a wonderful talent, she was the youngest person to ever win Johnny Young’s Young Talent Time! She was 9. Of course, she’s Australian. You can read about her here.