PAUL BUNYAN
The Surrealists in Paris in the 1920s and 30s used to enjoy randomly entering cinemas, unaware of what was showing. They would watch a few minutes of the film and move on to the next cinema. They considered the incomprehensible kaleidoscope they witnessed to be truly Surrealist. They believed it was not necessary to understand something in order to appreciate it.
Opera is not about understanding. Opera is about appreciation; it is about being borne along on a tide of emotion and wonder, it is about of the deluge of the senses. If you know the basic plot it is not necessary to understand every word any more than it is with rock ‘n’ roll. I detest the distracting idiot boards that are now the norm at every opera performance, placed so that the audience can watch words sliding past on a screen rather than watch the spectacle on stage. Yes, I know Paul Bunyan is sung in English, but they still had the screens. Don’t get me started.
You may wonder where this is going. Well, Paul Bunyan, English Touring Opera’s first presentation at the Everyman Cheltenham was surrealist (small “s”) and incomprehensible. It is essentially the story, a metaphor, for the birth and growth of America based on their folk hero Paul Bunyan. It was written by Benjamin Britten in New York while the Second World War was brewing up nicely in Europe. Coincidentally, many of the Paris Surrealists had also de-camped to the Big Apple in order to avoid Hitler’s very unsurrealist advances.
Described as a ‘choral operetta’, Paul Bunyan is set in a logging camp in the wild-west opening with the old trees lamenting the passing of the good old days and the new sassy saplings wanting to see the world. The chorus (this is essentially a choral work) is then taken up by a trio of wild geese, like three wise men, heralding the arrival of their saviour, Paul Bunyan. I won’t go on, it’ll only confuse you. The influences, references and in-jokes are manifold and, rather like the Surrealists’ movie kaleidoscope, the mixture is astounding and intoxicating. I loved not knowing what the hell was happening.
The surrealist influence is even more pronounced in the visual presentation. Mr Bunyan is represented by a talking ladder with a stars and strips and a battered hat draped from it. There is one breathtaking scene when a group of men appear (some sort of dream sequence?) carrying axes and wearing giant masks made from planks of wood. They were like the facial artifacts, notably from Papua New Guinea, so beloved and collected by André Breton, the Surrealist founder and leader. The lighting was superb throughout and visually it was hard to fault the production. The singing was fine although a little quiet at times but with very little opportunity for individuals to excel. There are lots of musical references but few what you would call arias. One outstanding moment was Caryl Hughes’ song lamenting the death of her mother.
One aspect of the production that went (literally) unnoticed was Damian Lewis doing the voice-over as Paul Bunyan, acting as a sort of narrator. From where I was sitting (in the front stalls) it was virtually inaudible. The recording itself seemed muffled and the volume was way too low, often being drowned out by the orchestra. This was a major issue and one I hope will be addressed.
If you want a visual feast and the chance to have your senses stimulated and your mind boggled by what one could fairly described as an obscure work, the ETO’s Paul Bunyan is for you. ★★★★☆ Michael Hasted
KING PRIAM
Michael Tippett’s King Priam is a much more dramatic kettle of fish than Paul Bunyan. Dramatic in every way. It has to be said there aren’t many laughs in Homer’s Iliad nor in the Fabulae of Hyginus on which the opera is based, but the opportunities for strong characterisation and striking set pieces are exploited to the full.
ETO’s production is dramatic with a capital “D”. The costumes are original and spectacular in luscious tapestry-type fabrics, fur, leather and animal skull head-gear but I loved the way the Old Man and the Nurse were in modern dress. It takes a great deal of skill and confidence to present such bold concepts.
As always, Guy Hoare’s beautiful and ever changing lighting added more layers to the already rich mixture. Visually the whole production was spectacular, the scenes too numerous to pick out. One I particularly liked was the scene at the camp where Achilles has left the battlefield and sings O rich soiled land to Patroclus. The tent is dramatically lit with its shape echoed by dozens of triangles of light held by the shadowy chorus in the distance. Breath-taking.
The male singing in King Priam is dominated by basses and baritones adding to the richness of the piece. A special mention must be made of Roderick Earle in the title role. His physical stature, adorned with an amazing costume, imposed itself on the whole performance and his singing and acting were excellent throughout.
There are lots of meaty parts for the ladies too. For me, the high spot of the evening was the trio at the beginning of Act III with Queen Hecubar (Laure Meloy), Andromache (Camilla Roberts) and Helen of Troy (Niamh Kelly) slogging it out. Visually stunning, beautifully sung and worthy of any TV soap for its vitriol and bitchyness.
The music of Michael Tippett is not everyone’s cup of tea; you either like it or you don’t. It is difficult to compare King Priam to, say, Madame Butterfly; it’s like trying to compare the merits of a painting by Renoir to one by Mark Rothko. Although the raw materials are the same, the terms of reference are quite different. However the impact remains the same.
I’d like to say I strolled home humming the tunes, but I can’t. That doesn’t mean ETOs King Priam hasn’t indelibly left its mark though. ★★★★★ Michael Hasted
THE MAGIC FLUTE
While Paul Bunyan could be described as puzzling, King Priam as demanding, The Magic Flute could be described as fun.
While the Mozart opera is certainly better known and more popular that the other two, ETO did not take their foot off the pedal thinking it would move along nicely under its own steam. On the contrary; if anything it was more spectacular and innovative and undoubtedly more enjoyable because it was familiar and accessible.
From the moment the curtain rose (metaphorically) to reveal an orgy as the overture played, it did not let up. The party culminated, as all good parties do, with the miscreants forming a chain which gradually metamorphosed into the serpent.
It would be difficult to pick out high-spots of The Magic Flute, there were so many. Samantha Hays singing the Queen of the Night Aria was certainly one and Stirb, Ungeheu’r, durch unsre Macht (The Ladies’ Trio) in Act 1 was entrancing. All the performances were outstanding and one of the (other) great strengths of ETO is that the company can all act as well as they sing. I was glad to see they had abandoned the idiot boards for this production. Sung in English with a lot of the libretto spoken, it was easy enough to follow.
Visually the production was even more breathtaking, innovative and exciting that the previous two evenings. I loved the doors on either side of the stage which lent an almost farcical air to the proceedings. I loved the trap doors in the stage through which hands, props and bits of scenery would appear and I loved the girls dressed as standard lamps. A nice, befringed, suburban standard lamp was beautifully transformed into Papageno’s fantasy ideal lover.
Wyn Pencarreg as a Welsh Papageno came closest to stealing the show and for me one of the best moments, and certainly the funniest, was when he and Papagena (played by Caryl Hughes as a sort of Giulietta Masina in La Strada) had finally cemented their relationship and sang their duet Pa..Pa..Pa surrounded by all the chirping future little papagenini. Totally intoxicating; I loved every moment of it.
It wasn’t just the flute that was magic. ★★★★★ Michael Hasted
