Scottish Opera: ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’
Festival Theatre - 05/03/22
We have been waiting for nearly two years to see Scottish Opera’s ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. Planned in the 2019-20 season as a follow-up to their ground-breaking production of ‘Nixon in China’, it’s now reached the end of its run, with enthusiastic reviews and appreciative audiences in Glasgow and Edinburgh. The Festival Theatre on Saturday was busier than it’s been for any opera performance since Nixon in February 2020 (though judging from advance sales the midweek houses were probably sparser). There was an excited buzz in the auditorium and an exciting array of percussive instruments along the back of the pit.
I was disconcerted by the original impression of Tom Piper’s set: the box-frame with mirrored rear wall was hazy, claustrophobic and cluttered with chairs. But fears that this was a symbolic lockdown production receded as the other-worldly voices of the children’s chorus and swooping cello glissandi introduced us to Britten’s soundscape. Above them rose Tytania’s silvery soprano, soon to be joined by her husband Oberon, the King of the Fairies. They’re quarrelling and so it is appropriate that the opera should have this uneasy start. Meanwhile we get to appreciate these unusual, ragged fairies. A mixed chorus of boys and girls, their singing whether in unison or in harmony can’t be faulted, and physically they are strong, energetic, and acrobatic – no soppy creatures with pink wings here!
Oberon is sung by US singer Lawrence Zazzo, whose splendid counter-tenor is accompanied by the celeste and harp. This was the first role written for the voice in modern times and was a shock for the original audience. It’s still a distinctive, even ethereal, voice and Zazzo is one of its best exponents. It’s good to report that Edinburgh soprano Catriona Hewitson, with an excellent record already in her roles for Scottish Opera, is a match for him. Tytania is a high lying role, which she sings with verve. She interacts well with the chorus and is terrific in her comic scene in Act II. The quarrel between them is over a Changeling Boy, whom she has adopted. No fan of puppetry, I’ll simply note that I found the wooden creature a bit creepy!
Puck enters like a breath of fresh air. Splendidly acrobatic, Michael Guest, recently graduated from the Royal Conservatoire, turns in a great performance in this non-singing role. His speech and movement are accompanied by snare drum and trumpet. We really do believe that he can girdle the earth in forty minutes, when a ‘double’ flies across the back of the stage. Oberon’s scene with him sets up the main plot -to use the juice from a magic flower to humiliate Tytania by making her fall in love with an ugly creature. After this spiteful decision Oberon sings the Purcellian aria, a setting of the lyrical lines “I know a bank where the wild thyme grows.” He’s a flawed and contradictory hero.
Meanwhile the humans arrive. First the Athenian lovers, Helena and Lysander who’ve escaped to the woods, followed by Hermia who’s chasing Demetrius. He spurns her because of his love for Helena. The young singers are well cast. Soprano Charlie Drummond, a former Emerging Artist, is Helena. She sings strongly and interacts with comic precision with Elgan Llyr-Thomas, a (younger!) Hugh Grant look-alike with a ringing tenor. US mezzo Lea Shaw was trained in Scotland and turns in a marvellous performance as the bespectacled and dumpy Hermia. With recent experience in Baroque roles at Covent Garden, baritone Jonathan McGovern makes up the quartet. By now I’d noticed two points very much in favour of this production. The reduced-size set helps with the projection of the voices, especially the children’s chorus which usually sings in square formation. Also, despite all the free flowing, sometimes acrobatic movement of the singers, and the later amorous entanglements on beds and floor, I can’t recall any of the cast being required to sing except in an upright position. Even the child fairy answering Tytania’s call with a forward summersault is allowed to get to her feet before she sings “And I”. This isn’t true of many operatic productions and all credit to Dominic Hill for getting it right.
Last to be introduced are the Rustics, who come to rehearse their play. This is also a well-matched group of mainly young singers. Bottom, the Weaver, is well played by David Shipley, in a genial performance with the right touch of bombast. The others are to be commended too for working on the individuality of the characters they portray. More on this later.
The first act then has succeeded in introducing the characters, the music and the plot. Acts II and III consist of a series of set-pieces to wind up and then entangle the plot. Hill’s direction deftly emphasises Britten’s structure here while keeping the stage movement fluid. He’s ably abetted in this by Stuart Stratford’s conducting of the not quite chamber orchestra – relatively small in numbers but with brass and percussion allowed their head at times but restrained at others to accommodate the singers.
In Act II, Puck and Oberon direct the action. Tytania has been anointed with the fairy juice at the end of Act I. Now Puck interrupts the Rustics’ next rehearsal to enchant Bottom. Tytania awakes to fall instantly in love. Her fairies have their best scene here, reacting to Bottom with reverence, treating him to back and ear massages. Then they perform on the “tongs and the bones” while Tytania and Bottom dance. The children’s solemn rhythmic performance on wooden clackers – a delightful cacophony - is a highlight of the evening, while Shipley and Hewitson excel themselves in this scene, combining tenderness with comedy.
Then after Puck’s error in applying the juice to Lysander’s eyes rather than to Demetrius, the lovers are drawn into the plot, causing the spectacular quarrel between Hermia and Helena which has both of them, plus the men come to blows. Much humour comes from the irony in Shakespeare’s lines when Helena, played by Charlie Drummond who is taller, has to denounce Hermia – the smaller Lea Shaw - for “looking down” on her. Hermia rising to her toes to prove her height is a nice touch. The lovers’ music takes the form of continuous conversation and repartee, and their timing as well as comic acting can’t be faulted. Eventually passions subside, and the four fall asleep separately. Puck has sprinted over and round the stage throughout – accompanied by much whizzing along the back row of the orchestra by percussionist Jay Allan! The rearrangement of the sleeping lovers takes place gently with a lovely low-tech piece of staging. Long rolls of fabric are pulled out, and one by one the lovers are wrapped, and lie cocooned next to their intended mate.
Act III sees the tangles unravelled, as the participants reflect on their dreams. The lovers celebrate in the overlapping lovers’ quartet, where they pick up Hermia’s line “And I have seen Demetrius like a jewel, mine own and not mine own.” The music moves and shifts though different keys, and the repetition of the words with different names reflect their puzzlement at the change in their lives and their hope for renewal. The quartet is accompanied by off-stage horns. A beautiful sequence which shows how the music works to enhance the words of the play.
Puck and Oberon return pleased at their successes. Puck shudders as he pulls back the covers on Tytania’s bed. Then she awakes to be horrified by her bedfellow. Shocked into submission, she and Oberon reconcile. And yet, maybe she, like her bedfellow, will recall her dream of dancing to a fairy band! Bottom then revives for his big number, Bottom’s Dream. His recollection, like the lovers’ is accompanied by brass, but now, as he gains bravado, it’s a full-blooded raucous accompaniment.
The last scene is again in the mirrored room, appropriately as it’s set indoors at Duke Theseus’ Palace. The lovers need his approval for their marriages which defy Helena’s father. Jonathan Lemalu, the Samoan New Zealand bass -baritone, now largely resident in London, takes on this somewhat thankless role. Shakespeare begins and ends his play at Theseus’ court, and Britten has dispensed with this symmetry when he cut the text, thus leaving the singer to establish the character quickly in the last scene. Lemalu sounds a little underpowered at first against a courtly fanfare. But he makes the most of the humanity of his role, showing understanding to the lovers and tolerance of the Rustics who provide the court entertainment.
What a finale this proves! In terms of characterisation, the Rustics retain a firm grasp of their characters’ real-life personas as well as their parts in the play. Jamie MacDougall, as Snout the Tinker and the Wall, is portrayed as a drunken Glaswegian (mild note to Scottish Opera – other Scots accents are available!). But he certainly gets the laughs. Dingle Yandell, as Snug the Joiner, has grown in stature as the director of the play. Bottom blusters his way through his part of Pyramus. But the star of this scene is Glen Cunningham as Francis Flute, playing Thisbe. Emboldened by his female attire he sings a fine falsetto in this parody of a Donizetti tragic heroine. There is something both touching and funny in his portrayal of the shy lad who’s found his courage on stage.
Both Glen Cunningham and Lea Shaw, playing Hermia, are current Emerging Artists with Scottish Opera. Their capable performances are a credit to the company, but also an indication of a way in which opera companies are changing after the pandemic. The days of singers criss-crossing each other on international flights is over. This production, where some of the best singing, acting and playing came from Scottish based singers, may point a way forward.
