REVIEW: Tannhäuser, Longborough Festival Opera gives you a lovely glimpse into the character of the Cotswolds, whether that is through history, landscape, architecture, local life or a memorable day out.
You will find the background, local detail and small points of interest that make REVIEW: Tannhäuser, Longborough Festival Opera worth knowing about, especially if you enjoy the stories behind the Cotswolds.
14/06/2016
Rating: ★★★★☆ By Colin Davison @IamColinDavison
Tricky things, orgies. Wagner wanted one – nymphs, sirens, satyrs all dancing around Venus and her lover, not to mention some dodgy mythological business between Leda and a swan.
Tricky things, orgies. Wagner wanted one – nymphs, sirens, satyrs all dancing around Venus and her lover, not to mention some dodgy mythological business between Leda and a swan.
But Longborough has always known how to make the best of its limitations. So whereas the Met opened its recent production with the full works, its little Cotswolds cousin substituted a mime of the composer torn between ideas of heaven and hell.
The device works tolerably well, reflecting Wagner’s own pre-occupations with the sublime and more earthly matters, before the composer-figure re-emerges as his opera’s conflicted hero Tannhäuser.
It’s a dramatic compromise; musically the evening most definitely is not. I could not take my ears off it, due in large part to a towering performance by Neal Cooper, one of two singers taking the title role during the short run.
Cooper, nephew of heavyweight boxer Sir Henry, has a suitably commanding presence and a thrilling, heroic tenor voice that could shake the foundations of a larger auditorium than Longborough.
Here the power, clarity and passion sounded sensational, even if quieter passages seemed less certain. Hearing him in this intimate setting felt as luxurious as being taken to the shops in a Ferrari.
He was well supported by the honey-toned Alison Kettlewell, confusingly transformed from Wagner’s silent wife into a luridly-lit Venus, a delectable temptress in a flouncy frock on a Fragonard swing,
Erika Mädi Jones evinced real flesh-and-blood intensity as the flip-side love, the angelic Elizabeth. Anyone who can open her account so movingly with a love song to a building, “You, dear hall,” gets my vote even before an impressively poignant Act 3 lament to the Virgin sung over sorrowful woodwinds.
Hrolfur Saemundsson was a lyrical Wolfram, Donald Thomson a gravelly Landgrave, while conductor Anthony Negus achieved subtle, masterful transparency in the orchestra.
The functional, adequate set by Kjell Torriset will have saved a few bob, and conformed to the official designers’ code for easy understanding: light-bulb = inspiration; red = sin and/or sex; ladder – descent and/or get me out of here.
One of the joys of Wagner at Longborough comes from its clubbishness, the casual talk of stars and past productions, a bit like a Star Wars or Rocky Horror convention, but with marginally better dress code. And for this performance, coinciding with the official royal birthday, it included the finest audience rendition of God Save the Queen I’ve ever heard.
For Wagner fans there are further performances on 14, 16 and 18 June, and for others of Figaro, Jenufa and Handel’s Alcina until August.
Colin Davison
The device works tolerably well, reflecting Wagner’s own pre-occupations with the sublime and more earthly matters, before the composer-figure re-emerges as his opera’s conflicted hero Tannhäuser.
It’s a dramatic compromise; musically the evening most definitely is not. I could not take my ears off it, due in large part to a towering performance by Neal Cooper, one of two singers taking the title role during the short run.
Cooper, nephew of heavyweight boxer Sir Henry, has a suitably commanding presence and a thrilling, heroic tenor voice that could shake the foundations of a larger auditorium than Longborough.
Here the power, clarity and passion sounded sensational, even if quieter passages seemed less certain. Hearing him in this intimate setting felt as luxurious as being taken to the shops in a Ferrari.
He was well supported by the honey-toned Alison Kettlewell, confusingly transformed from Wagner’s silent wife into a luridly-lit Venus, a delectable temptress in a flouncy frock on a Fragonard swing,
Erika Mädi Jones evinced real flesh-and-blood intensity as the flip-side love, the angelic Elizabeth. Anyone who can open her account so movingly with a love song to a building, “You, dear hall,” gets my vote even before an impressively poignant Act 3 lament to the Virgin sung over sorrowful woodwinds.
Hrolfur Saemundsson was a lyrical Wolfram, Donald Thomson a gravelly Landgrave, while conductor Anthony Negus achieved subtle, masterful transparency in the orchestra.
The functional, adequate set by Kjell Torriset will have saved a few bob, and conformed to the official designers’ code for easy understanding: light-bulb = inspiration; red = sin and/or sex; ladder – descent and/or get me out of here.
One of the joys of Wagner at Longborough comes from its clubbishness, the casual talk of stars and past productions, a bit like a Star Wars or Rocky Horror convention, but with marginally better dress code. And for this performance, coinciding with the official royal birthday, it included the finest audience rendition of God Save the Queen I’ve ever heard.
For Wagner fans there are further performances on 14, 16 and 18 June, and for others of Figaro, Jenufa and Handel’s Alcina until August.
Colin Davison
