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(ear)
Sun, sand, sea and infidelity
Lovers in disguise: Gary Griffiths (Guglielmo) and Robin Tritschler (Ferrando) set out to seduce their respective fiancée. Pictures: Catherine Ashmore Cosi Fan Tutte Welsh National Opera Birmingham Hippodrome **** BENJAMIN Davis’s first full-blown
production for Welsh National Opera moves Mozart’s lightweight opera
from Naples in the 1700s to a British seaside resort somewhere in the
1950s. It reminded me of Scarborough for some strange
reason, apart from what appeared to be Vesuvius glowing in the
background, although this being WNO I suppose we should have been
thinking of Pwllheli, Llandudno or Porthcawl or somewhere more Cymry. The imaginative set by designer Max Jones with
its two floor Botticelli’s Gelateria - allowing scenes in the
upstairs bathroom - and the pier ticket office-cum-Punch and Judy show
adds beautifully to the illusion of a seaside resort frozen in time. The authenticity extends to the costumes which
are a mix of Donald McGill postcards – including a lady decked in
bathing costume complete with cap who is the size of Great Orme, if we
are having a Welsh theme - and scenes from a Butlin’s brochure from the
Coronation Year of 1953, complete with Redcoats. Hi-di-Hi and all that. Daniele Rustioni conducts the orchestra in a
lively and light interpretation with James Southall a delight on the
harpsichord. To complete the seaside theme all the bulbs are there for
the illuminations but somehow the production rarely manages to have them
all switched on at the same time. Something was lacking, that spark that lifts the
merely good to the memorable.
Robin Tritschler and Gary Griffiths were fine as
the Italian sailors stationed in the British seaside resort (don’t ask
too closely about fine details) and Tritschler’s light tenor Un’aura
amorosa (a loving breath) praising his fiancée Dorabella and her
fidelity (don’t count your chickens son) is one of the highlights,
beautifully sung. The two fiancées Helen Lepalaan as Dorabella and
Camilla Roberts as Fiordiligi, sisters visiting from Italy, could hardly
be faulted either and their duets are a delight as is Dorabella’s È
amore un ladroncello (Love is a little thief) as she admits her
infidelity. The plot is simple. The two sailors claim to
their friend Don Alfonso, an Italian immigrant who just happens to be an
end of the pier entertainer, that their beloveds would be faithful for
ever and a day, or at least until the end of the second act. Don Alfonso, played with a sort of wide-boy
roguish charm by Neal Davies bets them a hundred chips (no fish) that
all women are lacking in loyalty and putting trust in them is futile. This is a less cynical Alfonso, who looks like a
bookie from an Ealing comedy incidentally in his tartan suit and trilby,
who does not come over as disenchanted and betrayed in love as the more
embittered bloke found in some versions. To him it is all a bit of a
laugh and a wager between mates. To prove his assertion he has the sailors in
uniform pretend to go off to war. Despite the fact they are the only two
from the entire garrison heading off to a war no one has heard of the
sisters are distraught (and gullible). The men then appear as disguised strangers – bad
false noses and moustaches, red coats and, in Guglielmo’s case, a pair
of shorts that would only be at home in the 50s - to attempt to woo
their fiancées. Don Alfonso, with 100 chips at stake, then
involves Despina into his dastardly plan. She is the Italian immigrant
single mum waitress and chambermaid at the ice cream parlour-cum-guesthouse
where the sisters are staying and, without knowing who they are, is
persuaded to look after Don Alfonso’s new best mates ever.
Despina has a rather low opinion of men, claiming
they cannot be trusted – especially when they are off playing at
soldiers – and suggests the sisters should have some amorous fun while
they are away - a bloke in the hand being worth two in the war so
to speak. The girls take a bit of persuasion but eventually
fall to the charms of their disguised fiancées except Dorabella falls
for Guiglielmo and Fiordiligi ends up with Ferrando. Claire Ormshaw adds a bit of humour to the role
of Despina, her toilet brush moment is priceless, as well as a fine
soprano voice which is big enough for the role except for some reason
when she pretends to be the notary marrying the strangers off to each
other’s fiancées when she not only appears as small as a child but has a
small child’s voice as well. The crowd scenes are a bit confusing with
fairground characters, strong man and the like, along with blokes in
cloth caps wandering about, particularly at the wedding scene when it
looks almost as if they have been pushed on stage and told not to get in
the way. In the parallel production of Turandot you
felt the crowd scenes were choreographed, here they look a bit of a
mess. The miniature fairground pulled on stage by a
dragon train in the second act is also a bit strange. It is either a
nice touch or incomprehensible depending upon your point of view but the
flashing lights on the helter skelter and the annoying constantly
changing colours of the miniature merry-go-round, centre stage, were
certainly an unwanted distraction for the rest of the performance.
With both sisters’ virtue having gone out with
the tide Don Alfonso wins his bet and tells the men that all women are
like that – Cosi fan tutte – and when the two sailors cast off their
Redcoat disguises and return as themselves their respective fiancées are
distraught again, this time with shame and when Despina reveals herself
as the notary they have the added shame, along with the now angry
Despina, of all having been duped. But Don Alfonso has the last word telling
everyone they have learned a lesson and to accept things as they are as
everyone is forgiven and is set to live happily ever. The production brings the story out well and
keeps up a good pace with some lovely, deft touches and, most of the
time, fine singing although a couple of times the ensemble and orchestra
did appear to be having a little competition amongst themselves. As said earlier all the elements are there and
apart from a few quibbles there is nothing wrong with what is an
imaginative production but that spark of inspiration is missing. To
continue the fairground analogy – close but only a small cigar.
The final performance is on Saturday, 11-06-11. Roger
Clarke
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