Disclaimer: though I started as a writer and critic in theatre, I stopped reviewing live performances a few years ago because I stopped enjoying it. My brain does not like assigning stars to performances captured in real time, only on celluloid.
However, I now have thoughts about theatre, so I’m trying something less structured. This blog and its second and third parts (both out later this week) are my first attempts at theatre writing since before the pandemic. They are far too scrambled to be proper reviews, including some tangents on recent theatre news, but there’s enjoyment in looking at how all these factors intersects in the experience.
There may be a few spoilers on staging or plot points…
Also, times are tight! Travel is expensive! There’s a theme around how much each show costs to attend, and a theme of the experience that resulted.
Enjoy!
Last Sunday (26 February) I returned to ENO for their new production of The Rhinegold - the first, but their second new production in a Richard Jones-directed Ring Cycle that will almost certainly be curtailed. This was my first visit to ENO since The Valkyrie in late 2021 (the second Ring Cycle instalment, but programmed first - perhaps due to that ubiquitous helicopter music). Much has changed since then. Omicron had put a damper on the Valkyrie audience; the Rhinegold room was full to bursting. More importantly, this was my first visit to England’s national opera company since the announcement that they were to lose all ACE funding - semi-reversed in a one-year reprieve after mass outcry. Others have spoken more eloquently and passionately about that than I have: for the record, my belief is that arts funding in the UK is a travesty and the vast resources and jobs created by opera require public funding to remain within the normal theatregoers’ budget and to support the standards expected from national performing companies. But enough of politics…
As a result of this funding uncertainty, the final two Ring Cycle operas - Siegfried and Twilight of the Gods - have been cut from the schedule. It is unclear whether The Metropolitan Opera, ENO’s co-producers, will step in to finish the Ring, or whether they will pick up another new production elsewhere. The latter seems likely, in recent news. If true, it will be the second most disappointing news out of the Met in recent weeks (the former being that they’re hiring the director of Netflix’s Persuasion to direct a new Carmen which, from the concept description on their website, seems to dial the anti-Romani stereotypes up to 11. Sure, it can’t be judged before its New Year’s Eve premiere, but for god’s sake, it’s 2023, and mediocre white British women can still only fail up).
After seeing Rhinegold, it would be even more of a shame not to see this concept through to its end; while character moments in Valkyrie were strong, production elements felt frustratingly half-complete (and just frustrating, when the actors playing horses had to shift from one foot to another on stage for almost an hour with nothing to do). Rhinegold shows Jones fully in control of technical elements and storytelling - irreverent, witty, brash, and dramatically coherent. He begins the saga before Alberich steals the gold and forges the ring of power, instead with Wotan cutting down the World Ash Tree, gaining knowledge, clothes, and a spear in the process, losing only an eye. It is a canny move for Ring newcomers, and the light presentation works alongside the grandeur of those opening E-flat chords to establish a world ruled by gods, giants, men, and all their petty follies.
The next four scenes unfold in constant motion; even the ever-flowing scene-change music, without dialogue, sees characters pass in front of the curtain on their journeys, as Valhalla is created and a hoard of gold cursed. The production design is bargain bin and bright, but the aggressive plastic and nylon fades into the background as astute performances ascribe motivation to every interaction and proclamation.
John Relyea’s sonorous Wotan is luxury casting in the Coliseum, and he plays the god as a shrewd dealer confident in his abilities - including his ability to get out of promises - even before he learns of the ring. He rounded out a captivating trio with two other standout performers: Leigh Melrose as Alberich and Frederick Ballantine as Loge. Here, Alberich is both tormented and tormentor, stealing the gold as a last-ditch desperate measure (and Melrose singing valiantly as he was physically held and lifted by a pack of dancers representing the Rhine) and then turning his power to the fear and misery of his underlings. But he evoked true pathos when Wotan stole the ring through trickery - a move that felt less like just deserts than yet another blow. Ballantine is one today’s most charismatic singers whose voice continues to grow to new roles, and he makes Loge’s quick-thinking, quick-talking charm and high tessitura feel second nature. His dream of Peter Grimes is hopefully not far off.
Not all of the low-budget effects work: Donner summoning thunder through lighting and confetti is more awe-inspiring than Alberich the half-pangolin dragon, and the projections bring to mind a PowerPoint. Some of them, however, are loads of fun: Alberich the toad (stuffed rainforest tree frog) wears the same suit the Nibelung does. Fafner throwing Fasolt into the wings to drag on a dummy and bludgeon him to death with a brick is the type of silly schlock that should undercut the solemnity of the ring’s first victim and Wotan’s realisation thereof; the brazen commitment of this stunt, however, brings chills. By the time Wotan and all the gods (minus a grieving Freia - a strange oversight considering the gods’ determination to keep her and her golden apples) have locked themselves in Valhalla’s vault and shut the stricken Rhinemaidens out, the doom machine is set in motion and their victory rings gloriously hollow. This can only end in violence upon violence.
Wagner’s score finds wonder and dramatic momentum under Martyn Brabbins’ baton, and John Deathridge’s English translation is very singable (German operas work very well in English, in my mind). Even if ENO are based primarily in London - something ACE have used against them, though this makes no sense considering the capital’s population and dearth of other major opera companies when compared to European cities - the company does so much for outreach and accessibility, especially for young opera-goers. Tickets are free for under-21s, and under-35s have access to affordable tickets throughout the auditorium.
I spent barely more on my third row dress circle ticket than I did on my Five Guys lunch beforehand. That, by the way, was a mistake. Bad pre-Wagner meal. The blood sugar is far too erratic after a burger and a milkshake.
There are two performances of The Rhinegold remaining: I urge anyone in the area to see it, and see ENO at their best in their London home - may it be their home for many, many years to come. Sure, Wagner’s drama is 2 hours and 45 minutes with no interval, but so is John Wick Chapter Four.
Before Part 2 arrives…
What I’m watching
I’m at Glasgow Film Festival! My favourites so far that I’m not reviewing are God’s Creatures (chilling), Therapy Dogs (joyous and rending), and How to Blow Up a Pipeline (very well edited, very very inspiring).
Also at GFF - as an X sceptic, I had a fantastic time with Pearl. The Technicolor stylings and sweeping Max Steiner-esque score by Tyler Bates situate it as The Wizard of Oz’s twisted cousin. Here, Dorothy doesn’t need a tornado to take her away - she creates her own hellscape right in Kansas (or rural east Texas, but the cornfields and barnyard life hearken back to cinema’s most iconic young dreamer).
I've finally started Abbott Elementary. It’s as warm and wry as everyone says, a return to the earliest days of Parks and Recreation before the bitter aftertaste of its saccharine later seasons kicked in.
What I (very highly) recommend
This blistering, funny observation by Hugh Morris on cheap tickets and young person’s schemes in opera and classical music - their necessity and the fact that they sometimes (often?) feel like an afterthought - is a must-read.