Death row drama in need of better music

At one level, this represents another nail in the coffin of the canard that modern operas are horrible esoteric affairs that nobody wants to hear. Since its premiere in 2000, Jake Heggie’s adaptation of Sister Helen Prejean’s experiences ministering on death row has enjoyed immense global success – and for this, its first British performance, the Barbican was sold out and the reception rapt and enthusiastic.

But is Dead Man Walking any good? Terrence Mcnally’s wellcrafted libretto broadly follows the narrative of the movie, culminating in a stomach-churning scene in which murderer Joseph de Rocher admits his guilt and gains redemption seconds before the lethal injection is given.

But Heggie’s music hardly rises to the occasion: it lacks the nobility and restraint of tragedy. Couched in an idiom that falls somewhere between Richard Addinsell’s Warsaw Concerto and Bernstein’s West Side Story, it provides a dense sludge of schlock that beats its breast and wails for pity and compassion without any psychological illumination or emotional resolution.

Mark Wigglesworth’s relentlessly loud conducting of an enormous BBC Symphony Orchestra only exacerbates the sense of hysteria. The calmer dialogues between the murderer and Sister Helen inevitably exert some dramatic tension, but there’s too much sound and fury signifying nothing.

Joyce Didonato as Sister Helen sings and acts with unfailing sincerity. Measha Brueggergosman is sympathetic as a fellow nun, and James Creswell and Michael Bracegirdle flesh out their peripheral roles as warden and chaplain. But the strongest impact is made by the forceful baritone of Michael Mayes as the condemned man and Maria Zifchak as the pathetically dignified figure of his helpless, hopeless mother. Even this sceptical critic was moved by the awkward poignancy of their farewell meeting.

Part of the Barbican Centre’s The Art of

Change season, this concert will be broadcast by BBC Radio 3 at a future date