Pure escapism with many trimmings
The world premiere of the only opera by Ravi Shankar, virtuoso performer on the sitar and first global star of world music, could not be a small affair. In fact, it was literally all-singing and all-dancing. There was a quartet of cream-clad dancers, whirling like dervishes, there was a lithe kathakali temple dancer in gorgeous silks. There were singers, also in gorgeous silks, Western in sound, but hieratically Eastern in gesture. There were four performers on Indian instruments, including the mournful sitar and the even more mournful shehnai, a kind of oboe. Ranged in rows on the symmetrically arranged stone steps that led up to a raised platform, looking only slightly incongruous, were 20 black-clad members of the BBC Singers. Down below, filling most of the stage, were 55 players of the London Philharmonic Orchestra.
All this lavishness was assembled to tell a charming story from the Indian epic poem the Mahabharata, about the Princess Sukanya, who accidentally blinds a sage, marries him to make amends, and outwits a couple of jealous gods who want her for themselves.
Sukanya is also the name of Shankar’s widow, and the opera is his extended love letter to her. The sage is really Shankar in disguise, a point made explicit by librettist Amit Chaudhuri in a long scene where the sage explains the mysteries of Indian music to his young bride. Chaudhuri tries to inject some humour and political edge into the fairy tale. “What do you feel, my child?” asks the King, the splendidly orotund Keel Watson, having just offered her to the sage. “What does it matter what I feel?” replies Sukanya, knowing her place.
But these moments barely ruffled the atmosphere of sweet innocence, with backdrops of jungle scenes that were perilously close to kitsch. Shankar’s long, sinuous melodies, tactfully orchestrated by conductor David Murphy, unfolded with unhurried grace, leavened with welcome moments of exuberant rhythmic excitement. The evening’s chief ornament was the soft voice and pliant grace of Susannah Hurrell as Sukanya.
It was a delightful evening of pure escapism, but somewhat overburdened with its own lavishness. The BBC Singers tackled the Indian singing rhythms with commendable vigour, but they seemed otiose, as did the serried ranks of LPO players. Done on a small scale, with a handful of performers, the piece could cast a much deeper spell.
Royal Festival Hall, London, on Friday: 020 3879 9555; southbankcentre.co.uk