A thumpingly good contemporary staging enthralls its young audience
Tosca
Opera North, Grand Theatre Leeds
The closest opera has yet come to the world-view of the action movie, Tosca hits hard, below the belt. There is no subtlety to mine here (though I toy with a fancy that Tosca might secretly be quite excited by Scarpia’s sexual offer) and no time to waste: from the violent opening explosion to the heroine’s final defiant death leap, Puccini has no higher aim than gripping an audience by its vitals.
On this basis, Opera North’s new production is a thumping success. You may hear Tosca sung with more elegance and see it directed with more finesse, but only rarely will you encounter a performance with such brutal energy and force.
Edward Dick’s staging is broadly but unspecifically updated to the present day, riding roughshod over minor problems of plausibility. Things gets off to a cracking start as Angelotti shimmies down a rope hanging from the oculus in the dome of the church in which Cavaradossi is painting a giant ceiling fresco. The second act works brilliantly, with Scarpia’s office presented as his bedroom suite, where he can loll about in his dressing gown and monitor both Tosca’s concert and the torture chamber via his laptop. The roof of the Castel Sant’angelo is a prison cell, in which Cavaradossi is dispatched by balaclava-clad hit men. It’s all very much of the moment, and played out with carefully rehearsed conviction.
Giselle Allen makes a brashly upfront Tosca, more showgirl than diva perhaps, but vocally fearless and tireless. Scarpia is burly and shouty Robert Hayward, scowling and leering and making no feint of being the velvety seducer.
Best of all is Rafael Rojas, the Mexican tenor whose regular service is one of Opera North’s greatest assets: as Cavaradossi, his Recondita armonia could have been more gently reflective, but he is a sensitive actor and both Vittoria! and E lucevan le Stelle were both squarely on the money. Praise is also due to the sharply characterised Angelotti (John Savournin), Spoletta (Rupert Charlesworth) and Sacristan (Matthew Stiff), as well as the jaunty shepherd boy (Ben Hayes).
The conductor Antony Hermus attacks the score gloves off, hammer and tongs. Some passing beauties were drowned in the orchestral fracas, but who noticed or cared? A Sunday matinee audience containing an unusual number of young people sat rapt throughout and then whooped and cheered at the end.
Job done, I think.