Sunday, 6 May 2012

The Coronation of Poppea at Hull University

The Coronation of Poppea - Middleton Hall, University of Hull


The court of the Roman Emperor could be an opulent, gaudy place – one where hot Italian passions were indulged; a passionate, dangerous environment. Especially passionate and self-willed/selfish was the court of Emperor Nerone (in English, Nero, now infamous for allegedly playing his fiddle while the city burned), portrayed in Claudio Monteverdi's opera of 1642, The Coronation of Poppea.

In its earlier form, this was the first opera to be based on historical material instead of mythology, although it still had a couple of Gods (Virtue, Fortune and Love) come along to kick everything off. The English-translation (by Christopher Cowell) presented for two nights in the University of Hull's Middleton Hall had been edited down by conductor Dale Christmas, cutting out all of the supernatural elements, much of the instrumental sections, and giving us instead a trim, lean near-tragedy driven entirely by the self-will and passions of one man: Emperor Nerone.

Nerone's a posturing, bullying little man under Jake Smith's direction, played by Beatrice Acland – it's a soprano part, making the Emperor of the Roman Empire prone to almost shrieking and having temper tantrums at times. But then what should the Romans expect? When you concentrate political control in one man from a young age, as in Nerone's case, giving him the wealth to match his power over life and death, of course he's going to consider his will paramount over all other concerns. Even the high-minded, intelligent Seneca (James Robinson, bass, in appropriately magnificent form) recognises Nerone's life-and-death authority with little opposition. It's knowing that death can happen so easily, on Nerone's whim, that gives the later half of this opera its tension – although (spoilers!) it never actually lives up to that threat and is left groping for a climax. Oh, and that innuendo just then...entirely deliberate.

Seneca (James Robinson) on the virtues of solitude - oblivious to the orchestra behind him...

Nerone's passion is for his mistress, Poppea of the title (soprano Abigail Spear), who lounges around the 1920s art deco apartment to which Smith has (sort of) relocated this Tudor-esque storyline. If we imagine Nerone about three times fatter/rounder then his desire to divorce his wife (Ottavia, soprano, Rachael Nolan) and replace her as Empress with his mistress could work in Henry VIII's England just as easily as in Ancient Rome. Unlike Anne Bolyen, however, Poppea's seduction of the Emperor is all about giving him what he wants (Anne Boleyn preferred to tempt her king, but keep him wanting until he'd committed to their affair by divorcing his queen and breaking with the Pope). Likewise, when together, Nerone and Poppea can't keep their hands off each other, their duets filled with phrases like 'to posses you' and 'to be with you' – but this is a relationship where they've clearly already 'possessed' each other, as far as Giovanni Busenello's libretto is concerned anyway.

A cloying embrace between Nerone (Beatrice Acland) and Poppea (Abigail Spear)

The passion isn't quite there onstage though. Poppea's nurse, Arnalta (Pam Waddington-Muse, a concerned contralto, who produces much of the opera's comedy), is on to something when she talks about Nerone as a schoolboy; Acland's Nerone is all about lustful pawings without convincing anyone that he has done or can do the deed, even with Spear serving herself up on a plate. The vocal blending of their duets is a poetic and musical union of their characters, but it has no counterpart in the physical and visual relationship which seems to always be promising that same intimacy, but always delaying it. It's only in the opera's closing moments that these two (the lovers are both soprano parts, which may be inhibiting) actually kiss each other, and it feels like they've finally overcome whatever nerves or inexperience had been holding them back – though we know from the libretto that they've already slept together.

Ottavia (Rachael Nolan) listens to Seneca praising her good fortune.

Monteverdi's score, arranged specially for this production by Matthew Moore, is played by a medium-sized ensemble (of maybe twenty musicians), featuring a smattering of period instruments like the harpsichord and the eye-catching theorbo. They're one more element giving the piece a Renaissance feel (despite Smith's attempt to relocate to the 1920s), relying on strings and recorders for much of the opera. It's all quite light and rippling, rarely lingering on a phrase or theme. In fact, there's very little in the way of tunes, as such; the orchestra, conducted by Christmas, competently underscores the action with melody throughout, but you don't go out humming any arias. This is early opera, a century before Mozart, and in its day was redefining what dramatic music could be and do, so we shouldn't expect it to be hugely adventurous by more modern standards.

The decadence and passion of Nerone's court is never quite visible in this visually 1920s relocation, and the relationship between Nerone and his mistress feels like an extended exercise in delayed gratification. And so Hull University's Coronation lacks a killer punch, despite its musical successes.



Images thanks to Elizabeth Coombs Photography.

1 comment:

  1. The most self- indulgent piece of drivel I have ever had the misfortune to read.

    ReplyDelete