Cavalleria Rusticana and Pagliacci – La Scala Click here for tickets There’s something special about La Scala. Even more than Covent Garden, more than the Met, La Scala epitomises Italian opera, and as wonderful as the technology at the Met can be, the musicality of the shooting and editing at La Scala leaves it behind emotionally, if not technically. My idea of heaven is an evening of Cav and Pag at La Scala and here it is in all its glory. All right, you’re not actually in Milan, fighting the traffic and arguing with the policeman about where you can park, but that has its advantages too. There’s a reason Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci and Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana are among the world’s most popular operas. I don’t need to tell you what it is. Just watch these two short operas and you’ll see it for yourself. Pagliacci and Cavalleria Rusticana, while musically and stylistically different, both depict the tragic consequences of romantic jealousy run amok. This deeply moving, albeit rather dark, production of the traditional double-bill - known affectionately as Cav and Pag - are, when performed together, as is usually the case – both moving and dramatically satisfying. Dismissed as ‘war-horses’ by those who have seen them too often, they are in fact carefully crafted and much loved musical theatre which allow plenty of scope for directors and singers to shape them to their own purpose and talent. The audience is rarely aware of the genesis of a composer’s idea but in the case of Pagliacci we know where the idea for the plot came from. Ruggiero Leoncavallo was the son of a magistrate. And when he was about ten years old his father was hearing a case of an actor, a clown, who was part of a troupe who killed his unfaithful wife after a performance. On this occasion stage director Mario Martone teamed up with set designer Sergio Tramonti and costume designer Ursula Patzak for an unconventional reading of the two pieces, with an outstanding contribution also from lighting designer Pasquale Mari. The late, great tenor Salvatore Licitra, in one of his last roles (he had died in a motor scooter crash earlier that year, aged only 43) shines as the soldier Turiddu in Cavalleria, and the reliably brilliant José Cura brings heartbreaking pathos to Canio, the tragic clown, here teamed with the Oksana Dyka’s Nedda in Pagliacci. The conductor is Daniel Harding. Join me at Milan’s Teatro alla Scala – I bet you’ll be applauding even after “the comedy is over”. Closer Than Ever – Maltby and Shire Click here for tickets I’m a big fan of the song-writing team of Richard Maltby Jr (lyrics) and David Shire (music) and this jewel of a song cycle demonstrates why. Closer than Ever is a captivating and hilarious song cycle which delves into the trials and tribulations of modern love, a journey of lust and romance, marriage and ageing, unrequited love and obsession. It’s a grown-up and unsentimental look at love in our time. A talented quartet of British singers – Lee Mead, Kerry Ellis, Dalton Harris, and Grace Mouat - do the unassuming honours for the songs which reflect the lives of people who want and need to belong to someone else but are nervous to take that first step. The physical production by Stacey Haynes with co-direction by the show's original lyricist Richard Maltby Jr. leaves a lot to be desired (and did someone actually design this show?) but Closer Than Ever is a charming and easy listen without being simplistic. And the songs are still first-rate. It has several of my favourite songs, the perfect nailing of the 60s vibe for women of a certain age, I’m Not Complaining. And If I Sing still gives me goosebumps and brings tears to my eyes. I hope it will do the same for you. Ignore the dingy surroundings, the pointless doors, the tin chairs, the dreadful clothes, the misguided set and anything else about the production that doesn’t work. Just listen to the songs by Maltby and Shire, sung by real singers, and you won't be complaining, either. Hedda Gabler – Norwegian National Ballet Click here for tickets Here’s a fascinating and unusual ballet which, unless you are Norwegian, you are unlikely to have seen before. Choreographer Marit Moum Aune and composer Nils Petter Molvaer have made a ballet based on Henrik Ibsen’s play. It contains nudity. I only mention this because, although it is totally appropriate in terms of its place in the drama, some people are offended by it. In this case, the choreography cleverly shows how Hedda’s well-meaning husband, Tesler, focused on his books, doesn’t even notice his new wife trying to interest him in her naked body. The choreography clearly displays both her boredom, and his incomprehension. We soon see how her boredom turns to spite and malice, and finally to revulsion with those around her, as she attempts to interest others but ultimately rejects them all as not being worthy of her attention, of not measuring up to her authoritarian father. The music of Hedda Gabler is insistent and repetitious but the choreography is innovative and beautifully danced, psychologically in keeping with Ibsen’s characters and dramatic intention. I am particularly intrigued with the choreographer’s use of children to show the development of Hedda through her early life. This is a ballet of acute subtlety and invention. In Grete Sofie Borud Nybakken the choreographer has a Hedda of extreme theatrical capabilities along with technical ballet technique to burn, and the emotional depth to express all of Hedda’s complicated moods. Each of her four male partners - Philip Hurrell as Tesler, her husband, Silas Henriksen as the tragic Eilert Løvborg, Shane Urton as Judge Brack and above all, Kristian Alm, as her father, the defining influence in her life, plays his part in the final inevitable act of self-inflicted violence. The Norwegian National Ballet’s Hedda Gabler is a fine piece of work, an important addition to the repertoire, and worth the attention of any ballet lover. Live London Theatre - pocket reviews The Mirror and the Light - Gielgud Theatre I went back to the live theatre this week, several times. First, I went to bid farewell to Hilary Mantel’s monumental achievement in her trilogy of novels about Thomas Cromwell, all three of which - Wolf Hall, Bring Up The Bodies and The Mirror and the Light have now been adapted for the West End stage. The third episode, alas, isn’t a patch on the first two. It is unclear whether the rushed, almost frantic pace of The Mirror and the Light is a consequence of trying to get in every single incident in the novel or whether it was unwise for Hilary Mantel and her leading actor, the exemplary Ben Miles, to adapt her book themselves rather than bring in an experienced playwright such as Mike Poulton who adapted the first two novels. I wouldn’t have missed seeing the plays as I’m a sucker for the Tudors, but for anyone who has now missed them, don’t kick yourself, nothing is lost by going back to Hilary Mantel’s books instead. Indeed, the opposite is true. The Ocean at the End of the Lane - Duke of York's Theatre This garnered rave reviews when it opened at the Dorfman, the National’s smallest theatre, so it was inevitable that this popular fantasy would transfer to the West End. Neil Gaiman’s memory novel has been adapted into a play about two children who invent an ocean from a local duckpond which includes scary monsters, scary humans, and scary music, and is just a very well-produced variation on the old ‘lonely child, wicked step-mother’ theme. The children are played by adult actors and the puppets are really wonderful if you like puppets.
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AuthorRuth Leon is a writer and critic specialising in music and theatre. Archives
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