John Mark Ainsley, Susan Bickley, Iestyn Davies and Rebecca Evans in the ENO's Rodelinda. Photo: Clive Barda
Show Hide image

Rodelinda and Die Frau Ohne Schatten: the operatic search for truth amid the noise

Two new shows from English National Opera and the Royal Opera House might sound completely different, but each finds the still small voice of human truth hidden underneath the excess.

Rodelinda; Die Frau Ohne Schatten
English National Opera; Royal Opera House

Pyschological and emotional truthfulness aren’t obvious priorities of opera –  a genre once famously defined as that in which “a guy gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings.” But there’s a good reason for that. Done well, opera is bigger, brighter, bolder than life. Filtered down into a two-verse aria, emotions are heightened. Edited down to a twenty-page libretto, plots are distilled.

A great production not only understand this excess but trusts it to make its mark. Two new shows from English National Opera and the Royal Opera House might look (and sound) entirely different, but each finds the still small voice of human truth hidden underneath all that noise.

Richard Jones wasn’t an obvious choice to direct Handel’s Rodelinda. It may be one of the most psychologically plausible of the composer’s operas, with characters developed fully from motive to action, but it’s still shackled by the creaking conventions of opera seria. If Jones found much to ridicule in the stiff pageantry of Britten’s Gloriana, then how much more could and would he find here?

The answer, it turns out, is plenty. But it’s done with so much affection, so much sly insight and irreverence that it makes something persuasively contemporary of this medieval tale of dynastic alliances.

From 7th-century Italy we move to a 1950s, post-war Milan in which Mafia war-lords jostle for supremacy and position from within concrete bunkers. Visual references clamour a bit too knowingly, but Jones’s trademark humour woos the audience so effectively that it’s hard to object, even when the exiled Bertarido (Iestyn Davies) sings his gorgeous Act II sicilienne “Con Rauco Mormorio” in a bar. As he muses on the bubbling, murmuring streams, above his head two neon beer bottles disgorge their own sparkling contents. It’s glib, smug, and cuts through the overwrought sincerity of the moment in a way we all recognise from the great television writing of our age – shrugging off the same emotions it works so hard to provoke.

The one moment where all jokes finally fall silent is a triumph. The opera’s sole duet “Io t’abbraccio” sees Bertarido and his wife Rodelinda (Rebecca Evans) reunited, but facing death. The simplest of visual effects has them drift further and further from each other even as the music intensifies, visually mirroring those clinging suspensions of the music. Elsewhere, the substitution a full-grown young man (the excellent Matt Casey) for the usual child playing Rodelinda’s son Flavio is an interesting one. This silent role speaks volumes in Jones’s hands, cutting across any humorous brashness with a darker psychological narrative of trauma.

Onstage the musicianship is exemplary. Davies acts as well as his sings, bringing purity and projection to a role that can easily turn whiny. The simplicity of his “Dove Sei” was exquisite. If anything he’s outdone though by the creamy, overflowing richness of Evans – poised and stately, unbending into sudden passion for Act III “Se’l mio duol”. Both Susan Bickley’s Eduige and Christopher Ainslie’s Unulfo add to Jones’s curdled world, but John Mark Ainsely’s Grimoaldo felt caught somewhere between English pastoralism and villainous Italian machinations.

What a shame, with so much to love here, that Christian Curnyn can’t summon something a little more biting, more truly baroque from his band. Handel’s phrases cried out in vain for line and direction, lacking the percussive crackle for Garibaldo’s music, and skating on the surface even as Davies and Evans dig so deep.

The Royal Opera House Orchestra, by contrast, are at their very best under Semyon Bychkov for Richard Strauss’s Die Frau ohne Schatten. Of all the anniversary celebrations this year, this is perhaps the bravest, and certainly the most interesting. An uneasy blend of folk play, fairytale and symbolist drama, the opera is notoriously difficult to stage and if Claus Guth’s production doesn’t resolve all issues, it brings a clarity to the action that allows the generous score to be the star.

With additional percussion projected out into the audience, this is above all a performance of sensory impact. Strauss’s huge instrumental forces are matched by a rare cast of principals who can carry this weighty music, catching the orchestral waves and riding them skilfully – as Michaela Schuster’s Nurse does in the earthquake scene, surrounded by some particularly horrible demons in Christian Schmidt’s designs. Empress Emily Magee’s opening vocal convulsions catch the mood from the pit, arching with the same fluid muscularity. Johan Botha’s Emperor is no less powerful – dramatically this a good fit for his stoic solidity – and Elena Pankratova makes an unusually sympathetic and even beguiling Dyer’s Wife.

Guth’s production makes no attempt to observe the colourful and outrageous demands of Hoffmanstahl’s libretto. Almost wilfully severe, his visuals have a symbolist simplicity to them – the unremitting wooden prison of the Empress’s bedchamber giving way only occasionally to visions of beyond. Even the Dyer (Johann Reuter) swaps cloths for animal hides, skinning them vividly and fleshily, as if to remind us just how earth and blood-bound this fantasy really is. After the romping excesses of Rodelinda it’s something of a shock, but as musical reality-checks go you’ll struggle to find finer.

Screenshot of Black Mirror's Fifteen Million Merits.
Show Hide image

How likely are the plots of each Black Mirror episode to happen?

As the third series is on its way, how realistic is each instalment so far of the techno-dystopian drama? We rate the plausibility of every episode.

What if horses could vote? What if wars were fought using Snapchat? What if eggs were cyber?

Just some of the questions that presumably won’t be answered in the new series of Charlie Brooker’s dystopian anthology series Black Mirror, somewhere between The Twilight Zone with an app and The Thick Of It on acid.

A typical instalment takes an aspect of modern technology, politics, or life in general and pushes it a few steps into the future – but just how plausible has each episode been so far?

Series 1 (2011)

Episode 1: The National Anthem

Premise: A member of the Royal Family is kidnapped and will only be released unharmed if the Prime Minister agrees to have sexual intercourse with a pig on live television.

Instead of predicting the future, Black Mirror’s first episode unwittingly managed to foreshadow an allegation about the past: Charlie Brooker says at the time he was unaware of the story surrounding David Cameron and a pig-based activity that occurred at Oxford university. But there’s absolutely no evidence that the Cameron story is true, and real political kidnappings tend to have rather more prosaic goals. On the other hand, it’s hard to say that something akin to the events portrayed could NEVER happen.

Plausibility rating: 2 out of 5

Episode 2: Fifteen Million Merits

Premise: Sometime in the future, most of the population is forced to earn money by pedalling bikes to generate electricity, while constantly surrounded by unskippable adverts. The only hope of escape is winning an X-Factor-style game show.

In 2012, a Brazilian prison announced an innovative method of combating overcrowding. Prisoners were given the option to spend some of their time on electricity-producing bikes; for every 16 hours they spent on the bike, a day would be knocked off their sentence.

The first step to bicycle-dystopia? Probably not. The amount of electricity a human body can produce through pedalling (or any other way, for that matter) is pretty negligible, especially when you take account of the cost of the food you’d have to eat to have enough energy to pedal all day. Maybe the bike thing is a sort of metaphor. Who can say?

Plausibility rating: 0 out of 5

Episode 3: The Entire History of You

Premise: Everyone has a device implanted in their heads that records everything that happens to them and allows them to replay those recordings at will.

Google Glasses with a built-in camera didn’t work out, because no one wanted to walk around looking like a creepy berk. But the less visibly creepy version is coming; Samsung patented “smart” contact lenses with a built-in camera earlier this year.

And there are already social networks and even specialised apps that are packaging up slices of our online past and yelling them at us regardless of whether we even want them: Four years ago you took this video of a duck! Remember when you became Facebook friends with that guy from your old work who got fired for stealing paper? Look at this photo of the very last time you experienced true happiness!

Plausibility rating: 5 out of 5

Series 2 (2013)

Episode 1: Be Right Back

Premise: A new service is created that enables an artificial “resurrection” of the dead via their social media posts and email. You can even connect it to a robot, which you can then kiss.

Last year, Eugenia Kuyda, an AI entrepreneur, was grieving for her best friend and hit upon the idea of feeding his old text messages into one of her company’s neural network-based chat bots, so that she and others could, in a way, continue to talk to him. Reaction to this was, unsurprisingly, mixed – this very episode was cited by those who were disturbed by the tribute. Even the robot bit might not be that far off, if that bloke who made the creepy Scarlett Johansson android has anything to say about it.

Plausibility rating: 4 out of 5

Episode 2: White Bear

Premise: A combination of mind-wiping technology and an elaborately staged series of fake events are used to punish criminals by repeatedly giving them an experience that will make them feel like their own victims did.

There is some evidence that it could be possible to selectively erase memories using a combination of drugs and other therapies, but would this ever be used as part of a bizarre criminal punishment? Well, this kind of “fit the crime” penalty is not totally unheard of – judges in America have been to known to force slum landlords to live in their own rental properties, for example. But, as presented here, it seems a bit elaborate and expensive to work at any kind of scale.

Plausibility rating: 1 out of 5

Episode 3: The Waldo Moment

Premise: A cartoon bear stands as an MP.

This just couldn’t happen, without major and deeply unlikely changes to UK election law. Possibly the closest literal parallel in the UK was when Hartlepool FC’s mascot H'Angus the Monkey stood for, and was elected, mayor – although the bloke inside, Stuart Drummond, ran under his own name and immediately disassociated himself from the H’Angus brand to become a serious and fairly popular mayor.

There are no other parallels with grotesque politicians who may as well be cartoon characters getting close to high political office. None.

Plausibility rating: 0 out of 5

Christmas special (2015)

Episode: White Christmas

Premise 1: Everyone has a device implanted in their eyes that gives them constant internet access. One application of this is to secretly get live dating/pick-up artistry advice.

As with “The Entire History of You”, there’s nothing particularly unfeasible about the underlying technology here. There’s already an app called Relationup that offers live chat with “relationship advisers” who can help you get through a date; another called Jyst claims to have solved the problem by allowing users to get romantic advice from a community of anonymous users. Or you could, you know, just smile and ask them about themselves.

Plausibility rating: 4 out of 5

Premise 2: Human personalities can be copied into electronic devices. These copies then have their spirits crushed and are forced to become the ultimate personalised version of Siri, running your life to your exact tastes.

The Blue Brain Project research group last year announced they’d modelled a small bit of rat brain as a stepping stone to a full simulation of the human brain, so, we’re getting there.

But even if it is theoretically possible, using an entire human personality to make sure your toast is always the right shade of brown seems like overkill. What about the risk of leaving your life in the hands of a severely traumatised version of yourself? What if that bathwater at “just the right” temperature turns out to be scalding hot because the digital you didn’t crack in quite the right way?

Plausibility rating: 1 out of 5

Premise 3: There’s a real-life equivalent of a social media block: once blocked, you can’t see or hear the person who has blocked you. This can also be used as a criminal punishment and people classed as sex offenders are automatically blocked by everyone.

Again, the technology involved is not outrageous. But even if you have not worried about the direct effect of such a powerful form of social isolation on the mental health of criminals, letting them wander around freely in this state is likely to have fairly unfortunate consequences, sooner or later. It’s almost as if it’s just a powerful image to end a TV drama on, rather than a feasible policy suggestion.

Plausibility rating: 2 out of 5

Series 3 of Black Mirror is out on Friday 21 October on Netflix.