Surreality Show - ENO's Partenope

Partenope - English National Opera, 9 October 2008

Christopher Alden's new ENO production of Handel's Partenope is set in Jazz Age Paris and inspired by the surrealist photography of Man Ray. The opening scene though is more like a creepy echo of Michael Powell's Peeping Tom, as John Mark Ainsley prowls the empty stage with camera at the ready. In a multi-layered visual reference, he's got up like one Man Ray subject, Sergei Eisenstein, disguised as another, André Breton.

Cripes. I thought we might be in for a brain-taxing evening of the type usually restricted to German opera houses, but fortunately we were soon back on the solidly British ground of transvestism, toilet jokes and repressed sexual desire.

Handel sets Queen Partenope's romantic intrigues against a background of war, but Alden sidesteps this. The only shots come from Ainsley's ever-present camera, the only battles are fought on the card table.

Partenope3 Instead he concentrates on the games of deception and seduction played by Partenope's arty, languid 'court', and gradually unravelled by the all-seeing eye of Ainsley's camera. Only the lens can piece together the truth, in the form of Man Ray's famous portrait of Lee Miller (NSFW) assembled painstakingly, nip by nip, in giant pixels as the opera progresses. Would Handel recognise this? It may send some fans running (there were a few boos for Alden at the end) but it sits neatly with the libretto and the music - some minutely-detailed stage business underlining this.

It's tempered with some fine gags, the brittle world of the Paris surrealists humanised by Wodehousian bumbling and snifter-fuelled silliness. Despite its three hours, it rarely dragged, and moments of sheer wtf were few and far between.

Of the singers, only Iestyn Davies as Armindo was consistently excellent. He has a secure, honeyed tone, every note faultlessly placed, and his Keatonesque slapstick as Partenope's timid, fumbling suitor was delightfully judged.

Everyone else took a while to hit their mark vocally. Rosemary Joshua was unwaveringly strong in the Nancy Cunard-styled title role, commanding yet agile through her tricky runs.

Christine Rice and Patricia Bardon were frighteningly convincing as the gender bending couple Arsace (male) and Rosmira (female in temporary male disguise), their mutual baiting and spats the emotional core of this production.

Emilio is a smallish part that seemed bigger in this production with John Mark Ainsley constantly creeping around the set, the silent observer. It was a performance of two halves, only the second in total command of intonation, but he compensated for the hesitant vocal start with his enormous presence and well-judged comic timing.

I wasn't hugely impressed by the lacklustre conducting of Christian Curnyn, who substituted speed for any real sense of vigour. It was passable enough, but needed more room to breathe.

Sets and costumes were fabulous, and some praise must also go to the (uncredited) make up team, who enhanced the gender confusion by turning everyone except Ainsley into the image of a Bloomsbury set dyke.

Coming after a run of tawdry musicals and knackered revivals, this shows ENO doing best what it should do best, namely English opera. Yup, even if it was written in Italian. In the back of the net.