When my PGCE was coming to an end this time last year, one
of my key motivations in applying for teaching jobs in London was... opera.
When I lived in Yorkshire, I frequented Opera North and made the most of
travelling productions, but I spent a huge proportion of my time desperately
trying to acquire tickets for coveted London performances. Friends would put me
up on sofa beds so I could get to the Royal Opera House or the Proms, and I
would sometimes look for cheap hotel deals so I could skip from one event to
another without annoying people, barely taking the time to sleep and eat in between.
The madness reached a peak in Summer 2011, when I was so
desperate to see the sold-out ROH production of Puccini's Tosca starring Jonas Kaufmann,
Bryn Terfel and Angela Gheorghiu that I queued all night for tickets and got
into the Thursday performance. On the Friday I slept and went to the first
night of the Proms, on the Saturday I was back at ROH for a matinee of
Massanet's Cendrillon starring Joyce DiDonato, and then I ran back to the Royal
Albert Hall for a concert performance of Rossini's Guillaume Tel, conducted
by Antonio Pappano. When the Prom was over, I grabbed a pillow and a warm coat
from my hotel and got back in the queue for more Tosca tickets. I slept on the
Covent Garden cobbles, getting my hands on a seat for the Sunday performance. After all
this hedonistic, yet tiring, activity, I felt that something had to give and I
headed down to the big smoke for good.
The Amphitheatre Bar- a view and a half. |
I've been in London for seven months now, and my grand
operatic plans have been a bit...lacklustre. It turns out teaching is harder
than it looks. The days of waiting on Floral Street for Bryn Terfel's
autograph, or throwing red and white carnations at Placido Domingo's feet feel as if
they are firmly in the past. They have been replaced by frantic lesson planning
and endless marking. Recently, however, my good friend Jessica (of Edesia London) came to the
rescue with her ROH friends membership. We scored tickets for the opening night
of Jonas Kaufmann and Anja Harteros in Verdi's Don Carlo, Joyce DiDonato and
Juan Diego Florez in Rossini's La donna del lago and Angela Gheorghiu and Pietro Spagnoli (crush city) in Puccini's La Rondine. Get in.
On Saturday, I got my glad rags on for Don Carlo, but poor
Jess was sick. Our lovely friend Ben came to the rescue and saved my evening.
And it was a really, really fabulous evening. After a week of naughty kids
making ridiculous comments about Othello, I needed some food for the soul, and,
dudes- Jonas Kaufmann is certainly it. In the long-running battle to get my
female friends into opera, Kaufmann has always been my secret weapon. The
aesthetics speak for themselves, but the voice is on a whole other level.
Ready for a bit of Verdi. |
A
heroic-sounding spinto tenor with the ability to break out into both romantic,
Italianate roles and heldentenor territory, I have long been a massive fan.
His dark timbre has led many an opera novice to ask "But isn't he a
baritone?" There's a long explanation of why this is not the case- you'd
be pretty bored. But to a large extent, we can put Jonas beyond classification-
in an almost Domingo-esque fashion.
Kaufmann as Don Carlo and Mariusz Kwiecien as Posa. |
Don Carlo is a meaty, passionate work- Verdian in the
extreme. Like most operas, there is a dominant love story, but it also has
strong themes of politics and religion which make it extremely relevant to
modern listeners. Who makes the decisions- Church or State? Can any heinous
activity be justified with a biblical reference taken out of context? Will
those with a strong moral compass always be screwed over?
Nicholas Hytner's
glorious direction reinforces all these major questions. Bob Crowley's
impressive red, black and gold designs enhance the drama of the intense score.
Sir Antonio Pappano brings the whole thing to life- Verdi's music is in his
blood, and I think he could conduct it in his sleep. He remains my favourite
conductor (precisely because some accuse him of over-egging the pudding, not despite it). I saved my most rapturous applause for him.
Sir Tony P. The only conductor to have made it onto the fridge of fit men. |
It was one of those overwhelming Royal Opera House evenings
that takes you through the full range of emotions- I welled up during the
beautiful Carlo/Posa duet, I was on the edge of my seat whenever the full
chorus took to the stage, and I was lulled (almost) to sleep by Ajna Harteros's
beautiful songbird voice. It says it all that the famously hard to please
Telegraph opera critic Rupert Christiansen wrote "This was one of those rare and blissful evenings in an opera house when the full nobility of Verdi’s mature genius was communicated by voices adequate to its beauties, depths and demands. I am still reeling from the impact."
Bob Crowley's impressive set. |
Sadly, you won't get a
chance to see Don Carlo- all the star-studded performances were majorly in demand and sold out extremely quickly. People were queuing round the block in the
hope of a return, and when I met Ben in the Amphi bar, he said he had attracted
some very jealous glances as he nonchalantly (and ever-stylishly) strolled into the Royal Opera
House in his dinner jacket. But I implore you to dip your toe into the operatic
water in some fashion this season: try for a cheap ticket for something else,
book to see Pappano conduct Verdi at the Proms or download some Kaufmann (I
recommend Romantic Arias if you're a beginner). Do it.
Facial reviewing: sublime, exciting. |
Laura X
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