Photo credit Dafydd Owen 1634
Bela Bartok’s “Bluebeard’s Castle” and Igor Stravinsky’s “Oedipus Rex” were performed together at the Sadler’s Wells Theatre in London more than sixty years ago, and on Thursday night at the Mayflower this phantasmagoric pair was wedded once again by the Welsh National Opera, in what Director Joe Hill-Gibbins described as a “psychosexual nightmare double bill”.
It sounds like a midnight grindhouse feature, but this production was pared-back and professional, not wild.
To begin, Conductor Lidiya Yankovskaya uses the music of 12th-century polymath Hildegard von Bingen for a supremely haunting overture.
The bridal chorus of ‘Bluebeard’s Castle’, just barely visible on an unlit stage, flits across the edge of vision singing mournfully of spilled blood. This is a suitable setup for both of the following operas, which depict the calamitous discovery of past misdeeds.
As ‘Bluebeard’s Castle’ begins, we are met with the other major creative interpretation, this time helmed by Hill-Gibbins, who has replaced the traditional seven-door staging with a massive central table, eerily empty until the arrival of Bluebeard’s murdered ex-wives.
This is quite a gamble, as the gleaming white-sheeted thing absolutely dominates the stage from start to finish, jeopardising the requisite impression of a castle so hyperbolically dark that it’s listed in Bartok’s dramatis personae.
WNO Oedipus Rex - Nathan Berg (Tiresias) - photo credit Dafydd Owen 2375
The blank canvas has various objects splayed, spilled and smeared across it as symbols of the traumatising discoveries Judith makes behind each of the seven locked doors of her dodgy new husband Bluebeard.
Again, this feels contrary to the thematic focus of the story, which is the discovery of past stains. Judith insists upon the entry of light into darkness, but this is only occasionally reflected in the lighting itself.
The daubed-canvas motif instead implies a kind of old-fashioned tainted-maiden narrative, which seems clumsy in a production that, through Christine Rice’s excellent performance as Judith, otherwise does a good job at leaving space for differing interpretations.
Is it a tale of domestic torment, in which Judith is an unwitting victim of the wife-killing Bluebeard?
Or is it a surreal fantasy in which Judith embodies a Lynchian intoxication by bloody revelation? Thankfully, the lead performers, chorus and orchestra are confident, precise and strong enough that, along with the always bewildering music, the performance succeeds in keeping both possibilities lively even if the staging doesn’t.
‘Oedipus Rex’, sees the newly jagged, reddened table brought to the back of the stage where it is much more effective.
The superb 35-strong male chorus fill out the seats throughout, and the table itself is used more as a platform for performers than for props.
Christine Rice stands out again in a brilliant turn as a sort of mob-wife Jocasta, shimmying across tables and chairs whilst singing about her mistrust of oracles. This opera-oratorio benefits from grander presentation, and was more energetic that the opera preceding it.
Oedipus’ discovery of his patricide and incest is genuinely uncomfortable and more than a little disturbing.
There isn’t much here to entice the opera newbie, but that’s okay.
The English surtitles were a bit sluggish and occasionally erratic, but this wasn’t disastrous, thanks to the sprinklings of English narration and the simple, repetitive lyrics. It felt like a night for the hardcore opera fans that seemed to comprise most of the audience.
Those familiar with the art form will likely be pleased with the Welsh National Opera’s spirited collaborative effort.
The performance of Hildegard von Bingen’s bloody compositions was exceptionally magical, and probably the best moment of the night.
