Untamed passion... but little Caledonia
Ariodante, Scottish Opera (Theatre Royal, Glasgow) Scottish, but not very
ASCOTTISH opera for Scottish Opera would seem most appropriate – except it wasn’t really, well, very Scottish. Despite the original libretto sold at early performances clearly placing the setting for Handel’s Ariodante in the Scottish royal palace ‘in Edenburgh, and the neighbouring parts,’ there was little sign of Caledonia untamed here.
There is much untamed about the story, of course; love, passion, betrayal, vengeance and death. Staple stuff of the operatic repertoire, I suppose.
But the libretto, for opera seria, is unusually coherent – far removed from the normal nonsense of a text thrown together to justify a far more glorious musical contribution. This is no doubt due, in part, to the fact that it is loosely based on an episode in Ariosto’s magnificent Orlando Furioso.
Ariodante came at something of a crossroads in Handel’s career. The erstwhile darling of the official Hanoverian establishment, he had been forced out of the King’s Theatre to an unfashionable playhouse in Soho’s Covent Garden.
While the venue at which it premiered on January 8, 1735, has since met with no little success, Ariodante is still somehow unfashionable.
Despite being one of Handel’s great achievements, this new production at the Theatre Royal is only the second time the opera has been staged in Scotland.
While the composer’s original score called for the title role of Ariodante to be sung by a castrato soprano, we are forced to make do with a mezzo soprano these days. Which is, to be fair, a little harsh on Australian mezzo Caitlin Hulcup, who stamped her mark as one whose love was ripped away and suddenly, somehow regained.
The s t ar of t he s how, however, was Sarah Tynan, making her Scottish Opera debut as Ginevra, Princess of Scotland ( Ginevra Stuart, presumably).
Certainly among the elite of British sopranos, Miss Tynan lit up the stage on her every entrance, whether by the joy of love or the near madness of incomprehensible despair.
As her maid Dalinda, Scottish Opera Emerging Artist Jennifer France was a fresh new presence.
The villain of the piece is the Duke of Albany, here named Polinesso. Spanish countertenor Xavier Sabata was certainly villainous – but comically so, to the point his character was reduced to a melodramatic caricature.
At one stage, I felt we were about to leave Handel behind for a burst of: ‘Oh, Sir Jasper, do not touch me.’ He certainly looked the part.
The Art Deco setting was taut, but hardly visually lavish. This was, in effect, a one-set show – the spiral staircase’s presence or lack thereof denoting whether we were inside the palace or outside.
Whether this was down to an artistic decision to embrace minimalist design or the financial restraints under which arts organisations operate these days–I’ ll let you decide. Under Edinburgh- born Handel specialist Nicholas Kraemer, conducting from the harpsichord, the Scottish Opera orchestra treated the audience to a Baroque delight.
Overall, there were many good things about this production, but without it ever gelling into much more than the sum of its parts.
Nonetheless, a Scottish opera by Scottish Opera is well worth doing – even if it isn’t really all that Scottish.
Ariodante, Scottish Opera, Theatre Royal, Glasgow, tomorrow; Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, February 24 and 27.