Ian Bostridge saved the ENO a small fortune in glue and badger clippings by economically providing a homegrown moustache for the ENO's recent Death in Venice.
Now Michael Ball has followed his thrifty example for the forthcoming ENO Kismet. West End Whingers reveal the splendour of the newly furred chin that an alarmingly premenstrual looking Ball recently displayed on TV:
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Death in Venice - ENO, 24 May 2007
Standing in the centre of the above pic is the real star of tonight's production, lighting designer Jean Kalman. With sparsely furnished sets, conjuring up the magic of La Serenissima largely fell to him. Ripples of light traversing the entire stage like reflections in a pool were a recurring effect. Sulphurous yellow fog, a bold orange sunrise, threatening shadows came and went. Without his brilliant effects there would have been nothing much to look at except a bunch of chairs. Speaking of which - I hadn't registered in the dress rehearsal how cleverly the seating was used. Poor frail-looking Ian Bostridge was on stage for pretty much the whole opera. But he regularly plonked himself down in the conveniently-placed chair which found its way into most scenes, helping himself to the artfully worked-in drink, and even a couple of cigs.
Bostridge's performance was the highlight, as it had to be. His singing was absolutely faultless. As the repressed, frustrated Aschenbach struggling to escape his creative block, his portrayal was perfectly pitched, and free of the physical mannerisms which can dog his work. His moustache was a masterly touch - it made it easier to believe we were looking at someone other than Bostridge, even if it failed to make him look older as I believe was intended. It was partly the strength of his performance which made Peter Coleman-Wright's Traveller fade a little further into the background than maybe he should have, though he was a great deal livelier than he had been at the dress rehearsal, and camped up the more comic characters deliciously. Iestyn Davies was the other great singer, a lush, sweet countertenor in the Robin Blaze mould.
Edward Gardner's (below) official conducting debut couldn't have gone better. The gamelan-esque percussion in particular was terrific, and the energy levels never seemed to drop. I was sitting right behind him at the front (and STILL only managed to get cr@p fuzzy photos, o my trembling hands). His light economical style wasn't hugely exciting to watch, but then only about five people outside the pit could see that, so it was hardly the point.
Fashion notes - defying the summery temperatures, director Deborah Warner wore a long black asymmetric dress and jacket with knee boots. Fiona Shaw looked more seasonal in a grey cotton jersey gathered waist dress with flat strappy sandals. Saffron Burrows was massively glamorous in a dark green sleeveless gathered grecian-type dress, again with the flat strappy sandals. Leader of the opposition Tony Pappano was accessorised with the lovely Mrs Tony and said hello to everyone. The best dressed though was a random femme d'un certain age in a Gucci butterfly print silk dress with matching scarf, shoes and headband.
The cast for a change actually looked better than the audience, in their elegant monochrome edwardian style clothes:
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Death in Venice (Dress Rehearsal) - Coliseum, 22 May 2007
A musically stunning production with no controversy-sparking surprises. The monochrome production design makes maximum use of very plain sets, relying heavily on imaginative ever-changing lighting and rear projection to evoke the Venetian settings in a fairly literal way. It looks as if more of the budget went on the crowds and their turn of the century costuming, also monochrome. The stage flooring is split into textured horizontal panels - glassy, rough, boarded - which serve as water, beach, graveyard, whatever is required. Repeated musical themes are echoed in lighting changes - white text projected on to a black background for Aschenbach's piano-accompanied recitatives, cloudy sulphurous all-infusing yellow for the boiling brass of the coming plague. Rattan chairs and potted palms hint at the hotel interior, a single pole is a gondola, flat cutout hut shapes become the beach.
The big pre-show question was whether Ian Bostridge is too young to play the middle aged Aschenbach. The production doesn't really address the age issue. His specially-cultivated moustache hints at Thomas Mann's own, without adding adding anything to the calendar. The appearance, the deportment, and particularly the voice suggest he's in the prime of his life rather than the autumn of his years, even when he's cholera-stricken and on his way out. It's the fat lady issue again - do you hire someone who looks the part, or someone who can sing it attractively? I think it's something you may have to take or leave as you please - the drama is one of psychological crisis, not physical frailty, after all, and personally if I have to listen to someone for nearly three hours, Ian Bostridge will do nicely, thank you. I can't help comparing with Philip Langridge's stunning concert performance with the Philharmonia at the QEH a few months back - though it's questionable whether there's anyone else of Langridge's years who could give quite such a remarkable performance, world-weariness without actual weariness.
Peter Coleman-Wright in the baritone parts gave a relatively subdued performance, but of course this was only a rehearsal so I don't want to read too much into that. I do hope more of the humour comes out in the finished version - this is a work that needs its moments of levity. Iestyn Davies as Apollo has the most beautiful even and bell-like tone, projecting exceptionally by countertenor standards. Each brief time he appeared was, appropriately, like the sun coming out.
One thing I didn't really understand was the decision to costume and choreograph Tadzio very similarly to the other boys in the cast. Combined with his (pleasant enough but) naturally unarresting looks, it made him blend into the background rather. It became a challenge to accept that Aschenbach could see him as his muse, the personification of beauty - even just picking him out amongst the other dancers was hard enough.
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