Another Opening, Another Show

I was informed today that, on the Scottish Opera website, there is free streaming of a documentary on STV of the Tour undertaken by the Opera in 1978 to the Festival of Aix-en-Provence, for the production of Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas with Janet Baker in the title role. Having just written about Purcell in my new series “A Singer’s Guide to the Great Composers” and having myself appeared at the Aix Festival on three occasions, I thought I might write a little piece about this documentary.

First of all, one must be prepared for a style of television that seems even more antiquated than something just over 40 years ago. The production values and, especially, the voice-over could have been pre-war! The narration was read by Duncan Carse, who had been an arctic explorer before finding some sort of fame as the voice of “Dick Barton, Special Agent” on BBC Radio from 1949-1951. It is a voice and an accent that one only hears among the older Royal Family these days, and as a vehicle for a documentary about Scottish Opera by STV, it seems to us now a strange choice. In addition, many of the words he had to speak betrayed an attitude of astonishing ignorance about Scotland and France. Such patronising vocabulary would be edited out at the first moment now, but it did add to the flavour of a piece which defined its era wonderfully.

It starts with the director, John Copley, informing the cast and chorus about how crazily short the rehearsal schedule will be, and how difficult the process would be. We are taken through early rehearsals, discussions about costumes and sets, problems with a schedule that beggars belief (chorus unavailable for three days, no time to make costumes, no sign of Janet Baker) and demonstrates an entirely unrealistic attitude to the whole project. I am not sure how much of this was a set-up for the benefit of the TV audience, and whether it was actually more smooth than it seemed? We need to get some feedback from my friends Linda Ormiston and Claire Saunders (Livingstone then), who feature silently in the film. Linda is seen as the rehearsal understudy for Dido, in the unexplained absence of Janet Baker for the rehearsals in Glasgow, but is never heard. The soloists are not named at any point apart form Linda, Janet and Alan Titus (the Aeneas, who we only see briefly being told how to sing a phrase by Janet, and then on stage in a fetching Greek costume, revealing fine legs). There is no cast list and no mention of anyone else on stage.

The fine legs are also part of the whole set up, which is almost a parody of “Are you being served”. All the production staff and the choreography seem straight out of “Carry on Camping”, which adds to the feeling of a bygone age. It’s all very amusing, and, with the flared jeans and frilled blouses on view, it reminded me how our society has changed over the last 40 years.

The scene shifts from chaos in Glasgow to more chaos in Aix, with the added delight of a chance to laugh at the funny French people. It was made clear that the lorry carrying all the costumes, props and sets from Scotland to Provence was going to be crucial to the story, and indeed we were not disappointed. With no mobile phones, no SatNav and monolingual lorry drivers (indeed Glaswegian drivers to boot!), it was inevitable that 10 minutes of the film would be spent with anxious people in Aix waiting for news of the lorry. French Customs (of course) proved enormously difficult and annoying (this was just after the UK had joined the Common Market, but old habits died hard -  beware Brexit!) and the chorus and orchestra were delayed by baggage handler strikes at Marseilles Airport – cue more jokes about useless foreigners! There were endless shots of cool looking French people and hot and grumpy Scots, and there were lots of misunderstandings due to language problems. It seemed that no one had thought to employ interpreters at all, and also that none of the Scottish Opera people spoke French. It shows how much more international the business has become over the last decades, both in the provision of interpreters and the linguistic skills of our compatriots. That has been another of the unspoken benefits of the EU, that travel around Europe and real interaction with foreign cultures has enriched our own culture. You couldn’t make a documentary like that now, poking fun at the French all the time, and going on and on about how hot it was and how the pale Scots were melting in the sun! However, it is really hot in Aix, and there is a definite problem about only being able to rehearse in the theatre at night.  The Théatre de l’Archevêché is a theatre made out of the courtyard of the old Archbishop’s Palace in Aix and, with its mediaeval vaults and 16th and 17th century buildings, it is a wonderful venue for opera, but not ideal for modern opera production. It has been enormously improved and modernised since 1978, but then was a truly old-fashioned place with no technical facilities to speak of. It was interesting to see that, right from the start of rehearsals there, they had problems with the connection between the orchestra pit and the stage. There were obviously serious difficulties with the “fold back”. A bit of technical information here: in modern theatres, we use a sort of speaker system on stage which allows the singers to hear the orchestra directly when often it is under the stage and inaudible. This has now been resolved at Aix, but in 1978, they had a real problem. If a singer can’t hear the orchestra, they lose their place in the music and sometimes the pitch. It can be a nightmare. You can see Charles Mackerras (for it is he who was conducting) and John Copley having real problems with the lack of contact.

There were huge problems with the costumes and make-up too. Stefanos Lazaridis was an excellent costume designer but these huge unwieldy costumes with enormous hair pieces and headgear proved extremely trying for the actors, and particularly the dancers, of whom there were several (Dido has a lot of dance movements). The heat, even at night, proved troublesome for the make-up, as it apparently kept melting. The shows start at 9.30 pm in Aix, when it is at last cool enough for an audience to attend and for musicians to play, but this also means that all the lighting and technical work can only be done during the night. Production staff have to be very heroic. It was mentioned that the strict working hours normally in force in British theatres could be modified in Aix, but it was pointed out that no one could work all day and all night, and so compromises had to be made. 

It seems that Janet Baker, who had not been part of any rehearsals in Glasgow, was relatively comfortable with the production. She had often worked with Mackerras and John Copley, and knew their work. I have never worked with Uncle John, as he is now styled, but met him a couple of times at Covent Garden in the last decade, where he seems to be part of the furniture, and found him a charming old man. It was noticeable that the first clip STV showed of Dame Janet in the film confirmed the view that she was an excellent, indeed phenomenal, artist. Right from the start, one is aware of her aura, and the wonderful magic of her voice, and it seems that her connection with Scottish Opera from very early days was genuine and sincere. Apparently, French television was also closely involved in the show, and indeed, they were seemingly almost in charge of the Dress Rehearsal. This meant that the First Night was even more scary than usual, and the atmosphere around the premiere was clearly not relaxed. It was interesting that there were no interviews with any singers or with the conductor, something that would occur nowadays, but that the cameras were rolling when the cast were relaxing by the pool or at a grand reception. Indeed the poolside clips were marvellous in their interest in the topless French beauties sunbathing nearby!

I felt the final patronising depths were plumbed in the interview with Lord Donaldson, the British Minister of the Arts at the time. His pomposity and utter lack of awareness was shocking, and fascinating. He rambled on about the great English singer (Dame Janet), the marvellous Scots who could hardly believe their luck when a chap from Sadler’s Wells was sent up to found the company in 1962 (Sir Alexander Gibson/Richard Telfer - hello??), about the Australian conductor, about the fine British music of Purcell, all combining to show off the British Empire at its best (he did indeed commend the Empire!). He spoke warmly of the excellence of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra (who, before the founding of the Scottish Opera Orchestra played all smaller scale operas) but admitted he had not heard them play before! O Tempora O Mores!

The whole enterprise seems to have been a success, however, and it was lovely to see all those people from long ago. I joined Scottish Opera in 1982 for three years, and recognised many of the chorus and smaller role singers from my time there. It was obviously quite an experience for them, and it was good of Scottish Opera to offer this film as part of their website. I would encourage all our readers to go online and have a look. It’s a historic document, funny and moving in its way, and it lets us see a little (although not nearly enough) of the magic of Dame Janet Baker.

As John Copley says to the camera just before the start of the premiere, in another quirky aside - “There is nothing like a Dame!”