“The Mother of All Musicals” – Carmen Performed by the Welsh National Opera

carmenIn words that pretty well summed up my own first impressions of Bizet’s Carmen, WNO Artistic Director David Pountney describes the opera as both “the first ever kitchen-sink drama” and “the mother of all musicals”. Widely criticised around the time of its first performance, it’s a ground-breaking piece that has since gone on to become one of the most popular and enduring operas of all time, and it’s not hard to see why. Fusing comedy and tragedy, lively characters and instantly recognisable tunes, the show’s appeal, much like that of its hot-headed heroine, is irresistible.

Carmen’s character is key to both our continued fascination with the opera and the stir it originally caused. Though the story takes the form of a tragedy in which our anti-heroine is ultimately killed, it’s difficult not to come away feeling that, in spite of her death, she has still managed to win the battle against those who would control and contain her. Unlike the agonisingly remorseful martyrs in sentimental operas like La Traviata, Carmen never relinquishes her freedom, unheeding of Don José’s damning accusations and refusing to be defined or domesticated by the rigid, oppressive patriarchy that he embodies. And, crucially, we love her for it. While for the male characters in the story, Carmen my be a puzzle that can eventually only be resolved through annihilation, for the audience, she is a free-thinking human being, mischievous, criminal and even cruel, perhaps, but still a clever and compelling advocate of individual liberty. She chooses death, in full knowledge that it is her only available alternative to submission.

The role of the saintly soprano in Carmen instead belongs to Micaëla, whose frightened reaction to the soldiers’ leering couldn’t be further from Carmen’s own. Passionate and righteous to an extent that seems foolish and childish, Micaëla is finally sidelined and forgotten along with the dying mother she speaks for. In contrast to Carmen, Micaëla is virtually denied a voice, becoming little more than the on-stage representative for Don José’s mother, who is never seen but whose presence and influence over her son is always felt. Don José is not so much trapped in a love triangle between two young women he seeks to dominate, then, as caught in a tug-of-war between the two “mysterious” women who shape the course of his life, leaving him embittered and emasculated.

Carmen herself is played compellingly by the stunning Alessandra Volpe, exceedingly sensual and seductive, even during the first act when she remains seated for long scenes. Jessica Muirhead makes a magnificent Micaëla, and Don José, Escamillo and Zuniga are well played by Peter Wedd, Simon Thorpe and Aidan Smith. The most lively and entertaining performances, however, come from Amy Freston, Emma Carrington, Cárthaigh Quill and Julian Boyce as gypsy smuggler team Frasquita, Mercédès, Remendado and Le Dancaïre.

After earlier opera experiences this month, it’s clear that the WNO place a great deal of emphasis on the acting in their shows, rather than viewing this as something secondary to the music. This is not only true of the stars, but even of the chorus which, in Carmen, includes a large group of children, all of whom do a great job. Big, ensemble scenes like the emergence of the women from the cigarette factory and the bullfight in Seville are beautifully set and directed and brilliantly performed, the women hilariously extolling the beauty of their cigarette smoke and the Seville crowd cheering Escamillo with an exuberant energy and some genuinely funny slow-mo sequences.

All this is not to say that the music itself suffers, however. On the contrary: the orchestra are phenomenal, with one of the most enthusiastic and energetic young conductors you’ll ever see in James Southall. The chorus are also in great voice, and Muirhead’s solos in particular are breathtaking. Volpe, too, has a deliciously rich, sultry voice ideally suited to her character. The quality of diction also deserves a mention. Though partly a virtue of the music itself, it was very easy to hear and understand the words, often without the surtitles, which were (happily) used relatively sparingly in this production.

For all its tragic ending, the overriding impression Carmen leaves is one of great good fun, rousing melodies and humour. Coming to it for the first time, it was a welcome surprise to discover that its comedy is as essential to the storytelling its more emotive, dramatic moments, as well as to see how clearly it serves as a forerunner for modern musicals. Exciting and accessible, Carmen would make an ideal introduction to the form for those who have never seen opera, and is showing at the Birmingham Hippodrome again this evening. Click here for more information and to book.

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Der Ring des Nibelungen: Götterdämmerung by the Mariinsky Opera

Gotterdammerung © N.Razina (2) (1)The final part of Wagner’s epic masterpiece begins and ends with a group of three sisters, creating a kind of elegant symmetry both within the show itself and across the Ring Cycle as a whole – a satisfying circularity appropriate to its title and themes, that lends the story’s outcome a sense of inevitability.

At the start of the Mariinsky Opera’s Götterdämmerung, the three Norns – daughters of Erda and weavers of fate – appear on a relatively empty stage, with dimmed lighting coloured a warning red. Surrounding them, silent, dreadlocked dancers are arranged in a ring, passing the Norns’ rope around their circle to maintain a delicate status quo until the rope runs out, having broken on the rocks it was tied to. Themselves embodying the broken strands, the dancers separate, and as they exit, their loping gait and contorted poses create the image of fate itself trudging miserably and unwillingly onwards, powerless to prevent the catastrophe that humans, dwarfs and gods alike will bring upon themselves. It’s a powerful opening, setting a dark tone for the rest of the show.

Götterdämmerung features another excellent Siegfried/Brünnhilde pairing in Andreas Schager and Larisa Gogolevskaya. Some time having elapsed between the events of Siegfried and Götterdämmerung, the characters that we meet at the start of the show have changed significantly in the interim. Stripped of her armour and dramatic hair and make-up, Brünnhilde immediately seems much meeker and more vulnerable than previously, and Gogolevskaya’s performance reflects this change: initially passive, contained and apparently content with domesticity, it’s difficult to equate this mortal woman with the powerful warrior and demi-goddess we encountered in Die Walküre. Siegfried, meanwhile, though as cheerful and energetic as ever, has lost a little of his callowness, having begun to absorb some of his lover’s wisdom. More important than any knowledge she might have imparted, however, is the fact that he has learned to respect another person.

Meanwhile, in the court of King Gunther, Mikhail Petrenko reappears as the king’s half-brother and closest adviser, Hagen. The son of the ring’s creator, Alberich, Hagen is bitter and twisted, fed on hate and spurred on by jealousy of his more noble, legitimate siblings. Another of Mariinsky’s genuine stars, Petrenko is perfect in the role, conveying the loathing and malice bubbling away beneath a thin exterior of calm and composure. His deep, sonorous voice has apparently designated him the “baddie” of the company – he previously portrayed both Hunding and Fafner in his dragon form – but despite some stand-out acting in the former role, this is the first of his three parts that really gives him space to show off his vocal talents. Mlada Khudoley also makes an excellent Gutrune, in great voice and giving a more nuanced acting performance than in her previous part as Sieglinde.

1Soon after arriving at Gunther’s hall, Siegfried is tricked by Hagen into forgetting all about his beloved, in order that he might marry Gutrune while Brünnhilde is herself claimed by Gunther. Upon his drinking a magic potion brewed by Hagen, all memory of Brünnhilde is washed away, and with it all her teachings: at this point, we see Siegfried revert back to his conceited former self, only this time, he comes off as considerably more dislikeable.

Back on Brünnhilde’s mountain, one of her former fellows risks Wotan’s anger by showing up to warn her sister of the grave danger the gods and the world as a whole are in. This Valkyrie, Waltraute, is played by Olga Savova, who brings the same powerful stage presence, stunning voice and emotional depth to this part that made her so compelling as Brünnhilde in Die Walküre.

Gunther’s court features some of the Cycle’s best set design, with grand pillars supporting a moveable platform that creates a sort of smaller, second stage, allowing action to take place on two levels and adding a sense of depth and scale to the show. This works particularly well when Hagen calls the army to prepare for Brünnhilde’s arrival, bellowing orders at the soldiers from high above them. The soldiers themselves are also excellent: this is the only part of the Ring Cycle to feature a chorus, and as a result, this scene is one of Götterdämmerung‘s most visually and musically striking moments. More gorgeous lighting creates the mood, with a sunset sky burning a bright, blood red in anticipation of the tragedy that will follow.

It’s upon Brünnhilde’s learning of her betrayal by Siegfried that Gogolevskaya really comes into her own acting-wise, balancing disbelief and confusion with horror, humiliation and fury. From this point on, we seem to see another version of Brünnhilde – no longer the mild, passive creature that appeared at the start of the show and allowed herself to be captured for Gunther, but the steely demi-goddess who once collected dying heroes from battlefields. Ultimately Götterdämmerung is Brünnhilde’s story, and Gogolevskaya rises to the emotional challenges of the end of the show: all eyes are upon her as the character makes her final, fatal decision.

It’s a fantastic end to truly incredible series of shows, and an experience I feel very privileged to have had. Next week, I’ll be attending two more operas at the Hippodrome – Carmen and Moses in Egypt – this time performed by the Welsh National Opera. They’ve definitely got a tough act to follow!

Header image by N. Razina. Second photograph by Alexander Shapunov.

“O word, you word that I lack” – The Welsh National Opera’s Moses und Aron

moses und aron Regardless of how you present it, Schoenberg’s philosophical musing on the ineffable nature of the divine in Moses und Aron could never be an easy watch – or, indeed, listen. An attempt to represent the ineffectiveness of representation, its complex ideas and jarring, often anti-musical score make for a show that is in large part just as dry as it sounds. This is not to say that it’s uninteresting or unengaging, however: in fact, the lack of easy entertainment and straightforward answers, along with the work’s literal incompletion, are not so much failures as active refusals to compromise. Through the dogged, unwavering idealism of Moses, the composer channels his own frustration and inability to convey his perfect “idea”, rendering Act II’s closing statement – “O word, you word that I lack” – all the more poignant.

Given all that, it’s perhaps unsurprising that this is a very rarely performed piece: if you’re not already an opera fan, it’s unlikely to win you over. Yet the very rarity of the opportunity to see this show more than made up for this in terms of bums-on-seats, with enthusiasts apparently willing to make the trip out where they perhaps would not normally. This was the busiest I have ever seen the Hippodrome on an opera night, and for good reason: the Welsh National Opera’s current run is only the second ever production of Moses und Aron by a British company, the last one having been originally staged back in 1965.

wnoBased on what I picked up from other audience members, the design (by Anna Viebrock) and direction (Jossi Wieler and Sergio Morabito) of this new production are quite radically different from the more traditional, Biblical approach taken by its predecessor. Rising effortlessly to the challenges of the piece and making no apologies for its toughness, the WNO get right to the heart of the opera’s central conflict by both offering and denying us concrete representations of Schoenberg’s great “idea”. Here, the contrast between the two brothers, with Moses’s faltering sprechgesang and Aron’s considerably more palatable tenor melodies, is mirrored in the staging of the two acts, with Act I providing a clear, contemporary analogy for the story as effective as any of Aron’s own metaphors and imagery, while Act II, superficially at least, is much more difficult to follow.

Act I is set in a sort of parliamentary chamber or lecture hall, where a white-haired and formally suited Moses is off-set by a profusely sweating Aron in a hoodie and trainers, played impeccably by John Tomlinson and Rainer Trost respectively. Revolution hangs in the air above the oppressed and discontented chorus, who are promised freedom and a better life if they agree to follow the one true God and his servants on Earth, in scenes overlaid with instantly recognisable echoes of the Arab Spring and recent Middle Eastern conflicts. Flamboyant Aron eggs the people on to their “destiny”, setting fire to an Egyptian flag and showing them wondrous “miracles” which, as far as the audience can tell, take shape only in their over-eager imaginations. Moses is unhappy with these tricks and displays that he believes debase the purity of his faith and ideals, but he eventually has no choice but to go along with them, since his own attempts to explain God’s inconceivable power and the reasons why he should be trusted prove futile.

The revolutionary fervour that Aron’s smooth-talking whips up in the people is the zenith of the show’s action: by comparison, the frenzied orgy promised in Act II is (to steal a term used by a fellow audience member during the post-show discussion) something of a “damp squib”. Rather than a barbaric mess of sex and violence around a fearsome pagan statue, we’re instead presented with the remarkably unerotic fumblings and pointless fisticuffs of a bunch of bored teenagers in the darkness of a cinema. Their “golden calf” is an apparently graphic movie whose content we can only guess at: as the audience watches the crowd onstage gazing back at them, they see the reflection of their own restlessness. The refusal of Wieler and Morabito to show us what they’re seeing or to gratify our senses has much the same effect on the audience as Moses’s similar resistance to visual representations and simple answers has on the Israelites. Like them, we’re left frustrated at the invisible, impalpable nature of the idea we’re being presented with, wondering when Moses will return to lead us out of this wilderness. Even the so-called orgy offers no relief: Aron’s permission of the indulgence of baser instincts is clearly not the right solution to the problem, a conclusion that both Moses and Schoenberg would doubtless appreciate.

There’s plenty of contemporary political commentary woven throughout the show: the rashness and disorganisation that are all too common in times of protest and revolution, the renewed restlessness, power vacuums and vulnerability often left in the wake of uprisings, the political naivety of the young and uneducated, and their uncertainty about what it is they actually want are all cleverly and subtly tackled. More obviously, of course, there’s also the out-of-touch intellectualism of would-be leaders and idealists, contrasted with the slippery real politik of rabble-rousers and “people’s politicians” who tend to fuel and feed on ignorance. Needless to say, neither of these seem like particularly appealing options, though no clear alternative is presented.

This is definitely not a show for anyone who’s after a night of easy entertainment, but if you want something to really make you think, then make sure you catch this in London next month: after all, it could be another 50 years before a new production comes along!

Fallen Women: La Traviata by the Welsh National Opera

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As part of the Welsh National Opera’s current season themed around the idea of “Fallen Women”, a series of three shows are being performed this week at the Birmingham Hippodrome. Last night, the season began with Giuseppe Verdi’s famous La Traviata, directed by David McVicar and Sarah Crisp, which will be performed again this Saturday (8th March).

tissot convalescentLike a series of sumptuous Victorian paintings brought startlingly to life, the design of the show was utterly magnificent throughout. From the bustling, brightly coloured party scenes that opened the show’s first and second acts, to the more intimate moments we spend in the company of the frail and saintly Violetta once she is “reformed”, designer Tanya McCallin has realised the period in painstaking detail by mirroring the art and culture of the time. Some of the clearest references are reprinted in the programme, such as James Tissot’s The Convalescent, which provides a near-perfect model for Violetta’s angelic, flowing, white dressing gown in Act Two, which stands in sharp contrast with the black velvet and red taffeta she favours while in Paris. Though not as directly referenced, I was particularly reminded of the classic “fallen women” and rich colours and textures found in Pre-Raphaelite works.

One problem did arise as a result of the production’s elaborate set design: a scene change in the middle of Act 2 saw the curtain come down and the music stop for several minutes, leaving the audience a little restless and confused as to whether the second interval had already started. It was worth the wait for what followed, but I wondered whether the changeover might have been better handled with some sort of explanation to the audience in advance, to stop people from getting up and trying to leave. That said, I’m not familiar enough with opera to know whether or not this is usual.

263px-Dante_Gabriel_Rossetti_-_Proserpine_-_Google_Art_ProjectJi-Min Park carried the audience away completely with his energy, ardour and youthful naiveté as our heroine’s hapless lover Alfredo. Alfredo’s interfering father, Giorgio, is also brilliantly portrayed by Alan Opie, whose powerful presence commands full attention every time he steps onto the stage. His gravitas offsets his son’s foolishness and triviality, yet he is not without his comic moments: he flounders hopelessly when Violetta attempts to “embrace [him] like a daughter”. Gaudily made-up as life and soul of the party Flora, Rebecca Afonwy-Jones’s knowing humour is surpassed only by that of Act Two’s ingenious gypsy troupe, whose saucy performance offers welcome light relief from the overarching tragic melodrama. Credit here must also go to Andrew George and Colm Seery for their excellent choreography: the gypsy’s dances are timed to perfection. Sian Meinir lends an edge of tough, practical realism to Violetta’s maid Annina, revealing their debts and the sale of her mistress’s possessions to Alfredo in a moment of obvious frustration with his dreamy guilelessness when it crosses the line into downright stupidity. Naturally, though, Violetta herself must be the star of this show, and Linda Richardson only gets better as things develop. Perhaps her most beautiful singing is alongside Alan Opie’s when Giorgio arrives in Act Two, but it’s after this that the audience really begins feel her anguish over the “great sacrifice” he asks of her as the show builds up towards its tear-jerking ending.

It’s testament to their skills that however infuriating modern viewers might find this story, the performers still manage to sweep us all up along with them, stirring emotional responses that we hardly expect and making us really care about the characters almost in spite of ourselves. Still, as the programme’s fascinating articles by an impressive array of novelists, playwrights and feminist essayists suggests, the WNO does not wish for us to ignore our more rational reactions to La Traviata‘s problematic plot. As David Pountney, the WNO’s Chief Executive and Artistic Director, writes in his introduction:

“[Fallen women] is…. a controversial theme, and I hope that bringing these three works together will provoke you to question the assumptions that lie behind them – perhaps even make some of you angry – an entirely healthy reaction to important cultural ideas.”

It cannot be by accident, then, that the voices of this production’s female characters are allowed to speak loudest, even if we are not left entirely convinced by Violetta’s self-sacrifice or, indeed, by her attraction to Alfredo, who is undoubtedly punching above his weight in both wisdom and capacity for compassion. Unlike our Victorian predecessors, force-fed a phobia of “fallen” females, we cannot readily accept Violetta’s miserable death as only due punishment for her “sins” – rather, we are left wondering how the more selfish and silly men we blame for her demise can possibly atone for theirs. If their changeability and inconstancy (interestingly stereotypically “feminine” qualities) so far are anything to judge by, it’s a struggle to believe that the guilt they feel when we leave them will really plague them for long enough to be considered sufficient penance.

What’s important, then, is that though Violetta is effectively silenced – her spirit being the first to fly the stage – the curtain comes down before those that survive her can say or do anything to appropriate or moralise her suffering. When it goes back up again, it’s her and her alone we see at first, not only allowing Richardson to take well-deserved credit for her performance, but also ensuring that Violetta retains her own integrity.

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With its Violetta left exhausted, sweating and sickly (rather than prettily pale and waiflike in line with the bizarre, deathly standards of beauty that proliferated in the 19th century) and still battling on to the end, the WNO ensures that the tragic courtesan character transcends her role of simply “feeding and satisfying” male fantasy, instead confronting us with the reality of her existence (Violetta is, after all, based on a real woman, Marie Duplessis): that, in David Pountney’s words “is where the poignancy comes in”.

The Welsh National Opera’s La Traviata is showing again at the Birmingham Hippodrome on 8th March. Full tour dates can be found here. It is followed at the Hippodrome by Giacomo Puccini’s Manon Lescaut this evening and Hans Werner Henze’s Boulevard Solitude tomorrow night. Keep an eye on Tal Fox’s blog, If You Could See This Now, for a review of Boulevard Solitude, and if you are aged 16-23 and using the Hippodrome’s First Night scheme to get tickets for the opera, don’t forget to let us know here.

New Season Launch – Autumn and Winter at the Birmingham Hippodrome

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After the fabulous free theatre we’ve enjoyed over the last few weeks across Birmingham’s city centre, the summer may finally be over, but the fun is far from it! The Birmingham Hippodrome has just announced a new season packed full of all sorts of exciting shows to brighten up the cold, dark winter days!

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18389_sFrom October through to Spring next year, you’ll be able to enjoy a range of smash-hit musicals, National Theatre shows on tour, contemporary dance, world-class opera and ballet from the Birmingham Royal Ballet and the Welsh National Opera, and of course, the return of the world’s biggest pantomime this Christmas.

The new season kicks off next month with the Birmingham Royal Ballet’s ‘Still Life’ at the Penguin Café, E=MC² and Tombeaux (3-5 October) and later The Sleeping Beauty, (8-12 October) followed by the National Theatre’s War Horse (16 October – 9 November). If you want to get yourself some War Horse tickets, act fast, since the show is almost sold out already!

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Alongside the War Horse run, two additional special events will be taking place: Only Remembered (Friday 8th November), a concert featuring live readings from the original War Horse novel by its author Michael Morpurgo and music from John Tams and Barry Coope, and a War Horse-themed sleepover (Friday 25th October) that will see the Patrick Centre transformed into World War I-style trenches.

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Towards the end of the month, there will be more opportunities to experience free outdoor shows in Birmingham. Make sure you wrap up warm for Illuminate! (25-27 October) a three-day light spectacular featuring interactive street projections from Shanghai, dance performances and The Lanterns of Terracotta Warriors, an extraordinary exhibition originally created for the Beijing Olympics.

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Throughout November, the Welsh National Opera will present Giacomo Puccini’s Tosca (12 & 16 November) and Gaetano Donizetti’s new Tudors series: Anna Bolena (13 November), Maria Stuarda (14 November) and Roberto Devereux (15 November). 

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As Christmas approaches, the Hippodrome will be helping you to get into the festive spirit with a Birmingham Royal Ballet production of The Nutcracker (22 November – 12 December), as well as its excellent, all-star pantomime Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (19 December – 2 February). This year’s panto will star Gok Wan, Stephanie Beacham, Gary Wilmot, John Partridge and winner of the BBC’s Over the Rainbow series Danielle Hope.

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February is a great month to catch some ballet at the Hippodrome, with two more productions from the Birmingham Royal Ballet (Three of a Kind from 19-22 February and The Prince of the Pagodas from 25 February – 1 March), as well as Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake (5-15 February).

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Meanwhile, March is the month for music, with three WNO operas and two exciting musicals.  The Welsh National Opera will present Giuseppe Verdi’s La Traviata (4 & 8 March) as well as two brand new productions, Manon Lescaut (5 & 7 March) and Boulevard Solitude (6 March). From 11-15 March, award-winning producers Music & Lyrics will be presenting their take on Fiddler on the Roof, starring Paul Michael Glaser and, towards the end of the month, the theatre’s stage will be flooded with 12,000 litres of water every night as part of its Singin’ in the Rain performances (18 March – 5 April), starring Maxwell Caulfield and Faye Tozer.

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In April, Wet, Wet, Wet frontman Marti Pellow will star in Evita (8-19 April), while a brand new musical based on the classic TV series Happy Days will star Sugababes’ Heidi Range (22-26 April). The Happy Days musical is written by the series’ creator Gary Marshall, with creative consultancy from Henry Winkler, TV’s original “Fonz”.

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May sees the return of the biennial International Dance Fest Birmingham, co-produced by the Hippodrome and DanceXchange. The festival will kick off with Sideways Rain (29-30 April) by Genevan contemporary dance company Alias, and will also include Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui’s M!longa  (23-24 May), international hip-hop festival Breakin’ Convention (20-21 May), a new adaptation of William Golding’s The Lord of the Flies by Matthew Bourne (14-17 May) and a performance from acclaimed ballerina Sylvie Guillem in 6,000 Miles Away (6-7 May). Bourne’s new production will feature young New Adventures dancers from the West Midlands as part of efforts to inspire a new generation to get involved in dance. 

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As Spring leads on into summer, the National Theatre‘s five-star comedy feast, One Man, Two Guv’nors will arrive in Birmingham (26-31 May), providing an excellent opportunity to catch this highly-praised production if you missed it in London. One Man, Two Guv’nors is an adaptation of Carlo Goldoni’s classic 1743 comedy The Servant of Two Masters, reimagined in 1960s Brighton by Richard Bean.

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So it comes full circle back to summer. Next summer’s big musical show will be Wicked (9 July – 6 September). It may seem a long way to plan ahead, but tickets for Wicked are already being snapped up by audiences. In September, the Hippodrome will also be showing Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats. Check back here for details about when tickets go on sale.

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To book tickets and for more information, visit the Birmingham Hippodrome website.

Happy watching!

The Welsh National Opera’s Lohengrin

Last night’s performance of Lohengrin by the Welsh National Opera was my first experience of a professional opera. Though at university I’d seen friends direct and perform The Magic Flute, as well as having been involved in a Gilbert and Sullivan Society, this was also my first experience of what might be considered a “serious” opera. That being said, the story of Lohengrin is as silly a fairy story as you might find in any of the comic operettas with which I’m more familiar, but it’s remarkable just how easy it is to fully engage with the melodrama. By the end, I was completely emotionally involved.

I definitely enjoyed the second and third acts more than the first, and I can’t quite be sure how much of this was to do with increasing quality and ambition of the opera itself, and how much of it was just me taking a while to “get into it”, but overall I’d probably agree with the assessment of Adrian Mourby in the programme that it might be seen as a piece with “uneven promise”. It’s not universally perfect, but some of the music is breathtaking. In the programme, conductor Lothar Koenigs is spot on when he describes the “unearthly” sound of the high-register violins at the start of the overture, which is later repeated when Lohengrin makes his big revelation. It’s spellbinding – a Romantic reaching for the sublime.

I think my favourite part of the show was near the start of Act 2, when Ortrud (I always love a good villain) plots Lohengrin’s downfall with Telramud, which was engaging both musically and dramatically. Partly, of course, this was down to Susan Bickley’s great talent: she, more than anyone else, really conveyed a clear sense of her character right from the start. Plus, she definitely had the best outfits – though Emma Bell (Elsa) did look spectacular in her wedding dress, and costume was very much a strong point throughout.

The rest of the cast were generally excellent, especially Peter Wedd as Lohengrin. I was impressed by Simon Thorpe and Rhys Jenkins, both of whom had to step up to new roles at the last minute due to John Lundgren (originally cast as Telramund) being unable to sing. The orchestra were perfect, and conductor Koenigs positively radiated enthusiasm, a passion for Wagner which also comes across clearly in his programme article.

The set was incredible, particularly during Act 2, which saw Ortrud and Telramud plotting in a dingy alley at night, then transformed into a processional area before the church as Elsa walked past the windows of a beautifully constructed castle and out into the streets. Act 2 also featured some brilliant lighting, as night was turned very gradually into day.

It was an interesting to discover that the famous, traditional wedding march actually originates in what is essentially a tragedy: at the risk of spoilers for anyone who doesn’t already know the story, it all ends badly for the apparently perfect couple. That’ll be one to avoid at your wedding, then.

Lohengrin is showing at the Birmingham Hippodrome until this Saturday (15 June). A pre-show talk will be held on Saturday. Click here for more information or to book tickets.