A Singer’s Life Pt5
Over many years, I sang on numerous occasions in Francophone countries.
Handel’s Acis and Galatea in Luxembourg in the wonderful Midsummer Opera production was a treat. It was a sort of open air theatre in the Ardennes, and the production which originated in a lovely garden in Ealing worked very well. The basic concept was that it took place in a country house in the 1920s, with Galatea as a young debutante, and Acis as a tennis-playing chappie over for the weekend. Polyphemus (me) was played as a W G Grace figure, a loud cricketer with a splendid beard and no notion of how to behave in polite society. Damon was the butler, offering advice on how to deal with the fair sex, while supplying cigars and brandy. Poor Acis was dispatched with a square cut of my cricket bat to the forehead. Original instruments played beautifully, and we took this production all over Britain, including, bizarrely, the theatre under Blackpool Tower and my only appearance up to now at Edinburgh’s Festival Theatre. Such are the vagaries of being an international singer who rarely sings in his own country!
I sang many times in France, at the Opera de Paris at the Bastille, a story for another day, at the Lyon Opera many times, in Caen, Montpellier, Nancy (more stories), Saint Etienne and Strasbourg. In Switzerland, I sang in Geneva and Lausanne, and in Belgium, in Liege and Brussels in the French-speaking bit, as well as in Antwerp and Ghent.
However, today’s little article will take us to the Festival d’Aix-en-Provence and to Monte Carlo, continuing my theme of Britten in Francophone places. I had appeared at the music festival in Aix twice before, in a wonderful Figaro directed by Sir Richard Eyre and an extraordinary modern opera called Thanks to my Eyes. These will feature in future articles but, in 2015, I was cast as Snug the Joiner in Britten’s fabulous A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
I have a long history with this piece, as one of my first roles for Scottish Opera back in the 80s was as Theseus. It was a revival of the brilliant production premiered in 1972 by Toby Robertson, which I had seen as a schoolboy and loved, and I was thrilled to appear in this iconic show. The staging was quite old fashioned by modern standards and a lot of the original movements had lost their purpose over 11 years. Consequently, I found myself doing a lot of random arm waving for no apparent reason. One of my favourite moments came in one of the stage rehearsals. The singer cast as my bride- to- be, Hippolyta, was ill that day and the understudy was a young Scottish girl from the chorus. There were two similar bits of the staging when Oberon came onstage alone and again when I was due to appear with Hippolyta. The cover wandered onstage in the earlier bit, to discover the fabulous counter tenor James Bowman, about to sing. She whispered “Are you Brian Bannatyne-Scott’s understudy?” Now I was in my second year as a professional and largely unknown, and James was a legendary figure in British opera, having among other roles, created the Voice of Apollo in Britten’s Death in Venice. He whispered back “No, I’m James Bowman!” Compounding her error, the young mezzo insisted “Yes, but are you BBS’ understudy?” Cue serious bluster from the famous singer! In later years, whenever James and I sang together, most notably in the Coronation of Poppea with Richard Hickox at Spitalfields Festival and on the splendid CD released in 1988, he wasted no time reminding me of the episode!
I sang Theseus again with Sir Colin Davis and the LSO in the Barbican and on the Philips CD, and then moved on to the lugubrious, and not very bright, Snug the Joiner with Opera North.
So, it was with great pleasure that I returned to Snug in Aix in the famous production by Robert Carsen, which had originated there in 1991. This was a different take on the play, but nonetheless iconic. Aix had assembled a fantastic international cast, with Sandrine Piau as Tytania and Larry Zazzo as Oberon, and with the splendid Brindley Sherratt as Bottom. We were initially worried about having a French singer in such a major role as Tytania, but she had really done her homework and was fabulous both vocally and in her clear English diction. By a strange coincidence, the excellent Japanese maestro who had conducted my Peter Grimes in Brussels and Bilbao (see Part 3) was the conductor for this show. His English had hardly improved, but his French was now much better, and we had a terrific success with the performances. Aix is a lovely city, and to spend much of the summer in Provence was a joy. Trips down to the Mediterranean were de rigeur and we had a most enjoyable time. The production toured to Beijing the following autumn, and also met with great success, as the first performance of the piece in China. The only drawback there was that we had to sing with the Beijing Symphony Orchestra, who were unacquainted with Britten’s music. The poor conductor for the tour, a very fine English maestro, nearly had a heart attack trying to arrive at some semblance of the correct style!
The following year, I had the great pleasure of singing Bottom for the first time in Victoria on Vancouver Island in Canada with Pacific Opera Victoria. This was my third experience with this fantastic company, having previously sung La Roche in Richard Strauss’ Capriccio and the title role in Verdi’s Falstaff (the only time in 40 years that I had the dressing room with the STAR on the door; being a bass precludes stardom to a certain extent!). Victoria is a great place and this company is one of the best I have ever appeared with. Set up as a vehicle for Canadian singers to shine, it has discovered many wonderful artists, and the atmosphere is marvellously conducive to good music making, with lovely hotel suites for the soloists and every care taken for the comfort and well-being of all. I had watched many fine singers playing Bottom, particularly Robert Lloyd with the LSO and Brindley at Aix, but hadn’t realised how difficult the role was until I started learning it. It was as if Britten had a grudge against the original singer, Owen Brannigan, back in 1960, but after a lot of hard work, I got to grips with the role and it was most rewarding. My Tytania was a lovely Canadian soprano to whom I remarked as we snuggled down in Act 2 that she was my first romantic partner in nearly 40 years of performing (another drawback of being a bass!), and the fact that I was wearing an ass’s head was typical.
My most recent foray into singing Benjamin Britten in France was Peter Grimes in 2018 in Monte- Carlo. I was back singing the lawyer Swallow here, having sung it a few years back with Opera North and at the Endellion Festival with Richard Hickox. It is my favourite bass role in Grimes, as he has a rather more rounded character than Hobson, with the proviso that all the smaller roles other than Grimes, Ellen and Balstrode are quasi caricatures, representing the flawed nature of the people in the Borough. Swallow is a marvellously pompous lawyer who acts as the local coroner as well. We first see him at the inquest into Grimes’s boy apprentice who has mysteriously died at sea, and his public admonishment of the rough fisherman Grimes is a splendid example of condemnation without using the actual words. His verdict of Accidental Circumstances causing the death is undermined by his warning not to employ another boy and his suggestion that Grimes’ behaviour is “the kind of thing people are apt to remember”.
He continues to be seen as an upright member of society until the village fete in the 3rd Act where he is seen drunkenly trying to seduce one or other of the two girls employed at the pub to “serve” the customers. It’s a perfect example of important men as hypocrites!
The Opera de Monte-Carlo in the Principality of Monaco is situated in the famous Casino building built in1879 by Charles Garnier, the architect of the sumptuous Opera House in Paris. Known as the Salle Garnier, it is accessed through the Casino, except when the Prince is present, entering by the grand entrance. Monaco is the second smallest country in the world, and the most expensive. It has been ruled by a member of the Grimaldi family since 1297!
All the performers lodge in the adjoining French town and every day, we crossed the imaginary border to rehearse.
They had assembled yet again a fantastic international cast, mainly of English speakers, and most of us were extremely interested to see how the famous Argentinian tenor Jose Cura would both direct the opera and sing the title role. Truth be told, we feared the worse as a) he is not a native English speaker and b) it is usually a recipe for disaster when a famous singer directs his own production.
Well, we could not have been more wrong! Yes, his English was accented, leaning slightly more towards Buenos Aires than Aldeburgh, but his diction was really clear and he had obviously studied the role carefully, and thought about all the nuances. As a director, he was a revelation, since he knew exactly how to work with singers, and had eminently sensible ideas about the staging. In addition, he proved to be a wonderfully delightful colleague with a fine turn of phrase in English complete with seriously good expletives! In addition, the local chorus, typically living in nearby France or Italy, had been very well drilled in English diction by the, thankfully, British coach provided. The only drawback was that this was the year of the Beast from the East, and Monaco experienced its coolest February and March for years. Our vision of balmy nights by the Med were sadly stymied, in fact one day it snowed! I am not sure how the Monegasques took to this revelation of hypocrisy and vendetta in Suffolk, and indeed they made a mistake in advertising the First Night as a Gala Night. The great and good of Monte-Carlo turned up in their, very fine, finery, but by the second half, there were swathes of empty seats in the auditorium. Fortunately, the next performances were attended by more opera friendly patrons, and were soundly applauded, and we were able to enjoy some splendid functions, including a swanky dinner in the Casino. And no, I didn’t!
