Yes, it’s that time of year again! Time for me to look back on my opera happenings in 2017. For a year I thought was initially looking rather empty on the opera-front, it seems to have become incredibly jam-packed.
January
It must be said: I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a busier start to the year! At a time when people are usually unwinding after Christmas, I found myself travelling backwards and forwards across the UK on a weekly basis. Thankfully, this was for directing purposes: The Magic Flute was well underway!
How does one succinctly explain the wonder that was ‘Flute‘? It was a very important project for me, and one that was a great honour to be a part of. I suppose (to fill you in briefly) it all started back in the Summer of 2016 when I got the job in the first place; from September-December I had many a meeting with conductor Nigel Wilkinson and rewrote and modernised the spoken dialogue ready for January’s rehearsals.
It is one of the most quick-fire rehearsal processes I have ever been involved in. We had three weekends to put an opera together and then perform it the following weekend, with wonderful singers travelling from all over the country to be involved and a theatre with 200+ seats to fill each night… no pressure!
The first weekend was actually the first time I had met my singers (having been brought onto the project after the opera had been cast), and once I had got over this nervewracking hurdle, all was well; they knew what I was after, and I got more of a sense of what they needed. I was seriously relieved that this was established with very little trial! Working with singers who were more advanced in their careers – being, as they were, a combination of people either pursuing opera professionally or studying it at conservatoire – it was a delight that they were so willing to contribute to the devising and creative process. They had ideas of how they wanted their character to be, and how it would fit within the overarching structure of my interpretation; I really appreciated this, because it made the process feel so organic. We were all working together to create the best production that we could with the time that we had.
It was such a joy and privilege to see singers developing within that environment, too. For example, our Sarastro (the wonderful James Birchall, who was also rehearsing for ‘Meistersinger’ at the Opera House whilst singing this role) boldly rose to the challenge presented by the spoken dialogue element, and did a marvellous job of growing into the role of the zen-but-commanding Sarastro; Miriam Allan, the Queen of the Night, who had never sung the role before and had had past reservations and anxieties about it, put it all behind her and smashed it out of the park anyway; and the Three Spirits, played by three sixth-formers with limited-to-no theatre experience, went from week one where they would barely move an inch across the stage, to show week when they couldn’t sit still backstage, they were somehow so enthused to be involved (although, I feel I’ve got to hand that one to Erin Willetts, who did a fantastic job with their make-up and helped them to feel confident within an unusual environment).
The singers 100% supported me, too. I really cherish their kind words – the little comments that I was doing or had done a great job; I can think of instances where this was the case from pretty much everyone, and it honestly helped me to improve and to be a better director. Thank you, guys.
Once we were in the theatre, the whirlwind became a typhoon. On a day that was tech day, dress day, and opening night all rolled into one, my responsibilities broadened from just director to include stage manager/general bossy lady. I ran around liaising with technical support, Nigel and the orchestra, venue staff and, of course, the singers; I was truly grateful for James Sarson’s support throughout the day, using his theatre expertise to lend a hand whenever it was needed.
And in the end, we had a GREAT show. I was immensely proud (and only a little gutted that I never saw it in full, due to throwing the cast on and off stage for each performance!). Delightfully, we had a diverse audience – from children of five years to adults of ninety, from opera firsts (my eighty-year-old Nanny!) to those well-versed (Dame Emma Kirkby attended!), and even my fabulous school friends – and the wonderful thing was that people responded positively to the show. People were throwing around words like ‘transported’… I guess you can’t say better than that!
Perhaps it isn’t the ‘Flute’ that I envisioned myself directing, but it turned into the ‘Flute’ I needed, and I loved it’s quirky nature, modernity, and whimsical, fairytale vibe. I’ll let you in on a secret: for both performances, I snuck onstage to join in with singing the final chorus. It felt good to participate.
Oh, and next time, I’ll get in a confetti cannon that won’t take out my singers… 
February
February gave little time for me to stop due to other directing engagements (this time assistant directing on some gig theatre that, despite protestations, could arguably fit into the operatic genre… maybe). Nevertheless, I made my first trip to the theatre, taking James to his first professional opera. La bohème at Welsh National Opera was a great introduction to the world of popular opera (and a popular WNO revival production at that). Puccini’s balance of humour and pathos was wonderfully borne in Annabel Arden’s multifaceted production; the almost eclectic mix of contemporary costume meeting modern, film-like transitions (that somewhat reminded me of watching Moulin Rouge!) kept the audience on their toes. One bugbear was that the projection was a little hit and miss, with some moments being very effective, such as when the projected images melted into actual snow falling at the beginning of Act III, whilst others, such as the fireworks of Act II, felt dated and altogether a little naff. This being said, we both had an enjoyable evening.
The following evening we went to see Le Vin herbé, an oratorio by Frank Martin. Directed by Polly Graham, and with Matt Holmquist on hand as Staff Director, Jo Fong in charge of choreography, and Katie Jones as Stage Manager, it was definitely a Kommilitonen! affair! I have to admit, I wasn’t much taken by the music; it didn’t have enough dramatic contrast to excite any great emotion from me. Nevertheless, it certainly had its moments of wonder, not least a glorious moment of high drama when an enormous white sail cascaded from the rafters, dropping to the floor with a resolute thud. It was also a delight to see little pockets of Polly and Jo’s individual styles within the direction and the choreography.
Speaking of the Kommilitonen! gang, there were some exciting tidbits of news in this month. For one, Polly received a nomination for Best Newcomer in the International Opera Awards, an incredible achievement and one very much deserved for a person so innovative and hardworking. The other fun news was that Kommilitonen! won Best Opera Performance in the Wales Arts Scene Awards – a bloody brilliant achievement full stop, let alone for a Youth Opera project. Happy days!
March
March was fairly quiet in the way of personal operatic exploits. I took a back seat from the theatre, having spent much of the first two months of the year hopping between projects. Nevertheless, I still made time to catch my Cardiff University Operatic Society chums in their annual production. This year they had set themselves a fairly enormous challenge – Carlisle Floyd’s Susannah. A piece with fairly distressing and sobering central themes (revolving around issues of gender and religion), it also contains an enormous orchestra and a challenging vocal score (particularly for some of the principal roles); to have even staged it was an enormous achievement, and it was so refreshing to see the society putting on a tragedy for once! A big shout out to Will Stevens who smashed the role of the corrupt reverend Olin Blitch (much to the dismay of his wife), to Lewis Ham and Emma Nelson for respectively sound vocal and dramatic performances, to Conall Keaveney for unexpected President-ing, to super-awesome-Housemate Andy Thompson and his superb conducting, and to Jess Thomas who started out on her directorial journey and made some intriguing and excellent choices (the scene where Susannah is bathing in the creek – in this production, hidden behind a gauze and her shadow projected out to the audience – was sensitively and artistically suggestive of her innocent nakedness).
May
As it transpired, April was as quiet as the grave on the opera front, with most of my time and energy dedicated to plays, musicals, friends and family. As we trundled into May, I decided enough was enough, and I looked for something to do that would fulfil my opera cravings. It so happened that the National Opera Studio’s ‘Contemporary Opera Scenes’ coincided with a day off from work, so (without further ado) I booked my bus and headed to London for the day. The venue for the opera scenes was the exceptionally cool Wilton’s Music Hall, and the scenes themselves comprised of music from Errollyn Wallen, Joanna Marsh, and Elena Langer. The UK premiere of Langer’s short opera Four Sisters was particularly excellent, as was the opportunity to watch the scenes with my best friend Patrick Reardon-Morgan. What’s not to love?
It was also in May that, after many months of fruitful searching, Tomos Watkins and I decided that Simply Opera’s plans to put on Holst’s At the Boar’s Head simply weren’t feasible due to the sheer number of baritones it required. With this in mind (and with only a month and a half until the performances!) we completely changed tack and decided that, with the small but dedicated cast we had assembled, we would perform a large section of ‘Boar’s Head‘ as well as several other musical ditties inspired by the work of Shakespeare. This got the ball rolling and, as you can see from the photo below, everyone was having a terrible time learning the music…
June
GOOD GRIEF. After some quieter patches earlier in the year, June (quite frankly) made up for it, by being as busy as busy could be!
The month got off to the best start imaginable with a visit to the Wales Millennium Centre to catch Welsh National Opera’s Der Rosenkavalier (10th June). It is safe to say that I was utterly infatuated with the opera and WNO’s interpretation of it. The decadence of early twentieth-century Vienna shone through in Richard Strauss’ music and in WNO’s cleverly updated scenario (leaving behind the Vienna of 1740 that Strauss had imagined). Everything about it sucked you in; the performances from the principals in particular were some of the best I have seen from WNO in quite some time, with moments of humour beautifully balanced with deeply profound emotions. I lost my heart to ‘Rosenkav’ that evening, and would love to see the opera again sometime.
Thankfully, June just kept getting better. After literally (literally) years of waiting, I finally made it to Cardiff Singer of the World. The 2017 competition was everything I could have wanted and more, and proved a ridiculously exciting week of music, song, and the occasional sprinkling of drama (we’re looking at you, Song Prize Final…). It also coincided with my 9000th day on planet Earth, which was a brilliant coincidence and an apt cause for celebration. It was an absolute joy and privilege to be at St. David’s Hall for the vast majority of the action, and I hope to remember the competition for a long time.
Fast-forwarding to the end of the month, the other notable visit to view some opera was catching Die Fledermaus at the Wales Millennium Centre on 24th June. This rambunctious and G&S-esque production was a jolly romp; although it wasn’t entirely to my taste, there were moments of laugh-out-loud comedy gold (the portrait of Franz Josef and it’s whirling moustache comes to mind) and it was clear that the cast were enjoying themselves very much. They weren’t the only ones: the Prince of Wales (who also happened to be there that evening) was audibly giggling, and James and I had some quality banter with the cellists, since we were sat in the very front row of the theatre for the first time ever!
And then there was the biggest challenge of June (possibly the year) which came in the form of the project formerly known as At The Boar’s Head…
Shakespeare in Opera Town (yes, that really was the best and most suitable name) was a whirlwind of a project, and one that came with a few ups and downs! We had secured a cast and begun rehearsals, only for our main tenor, the lovely Rhys Batt, to fall horribly ill with what the doctor could only describe as “a magnificent chest infection”. With this in mind, he very sensibly stepped down, but this left us with a tenor-shaped hole to fill with only 4 days until the performances. Thankfully, our other excellent tenor Tim Coleman jumped into the role of Prince Hal, and I jumped into his role… so it turned out I was singing as well as directing for this one!
After being frightfully afraid that no-one would come, we were happily surprised to have a small audience for all three shows (from professors, to friends, and to at least one person who had seen our posters and been intrigued!); I think we can happily deem that a success.
We were (and are) much indebted to Uncommon Ground, who gave us a wonderful space to play out our rather bizarre operatic exploits… Simply Opera was also their first show in the venue, so that’s a brilliant claim to fame for us, too.
Mostly, I will hold dear the moments of absolute madness (did someone say ‘The rain it raineth’…?), sublime beauty (‘Who is Sylvia?’), and next-level-weird-stuff (moustaches and sombreros). We learned a lot; thanks for the experience, friends.
Oh, and as if all of that wasn’t enough, I experienced a minor explosion in Twitter popularity when one of my favourite writers of all time retweeted my Coraline enthusiasm… what a time to be alive.
July
In early July I was lucky to see Street Scene at the Sherman, performed by the talented students of the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama. It was a great production that captured the sweltering heat of the Manhattan street and the horrifyingly mundane conclusion of the opera, as (after a terrible murder) everything returns to the way it was 24 hours previously, with none of the characters having learned from the things they have seen. It was entertaining and hard-hitting in equal measure, and I enjoyed in immensely.
Having surprised me with tickets a couple of months previously, James and I made the journey from Cardiff to London to (quite ironically) catch Welsh National Opera’s acclaimed production of The Merchant of Venice at the Royal Opera House. André Tchaikowsky’s insightful interpretation of Shakespeare’s controversial play made a great musical impact in places, but sometimes fell a little flat. The same could be said for the staging, which suffered due to moments of static drama that came across as dull rather than poignant (the audience’s awkward, hot shuffling throughout the Epilogue was an indicator of this!). This being said, the opera was not without sparkle, as was clear in the clever design elements. Although somewhat lumbering, I enjoyed the unwieldy walls that were constantly moved around by the cast; the moments when these foreboding structures formed to seemingly parallel the designs of the Polish Ghetto walls made for striking and poignant images. My favourite part of this opera was any time Shylock (portrayed by Lester Lynch) was onstage – he was absolutely superb.
September
As is often the way with the summer, since the opera companies were either on holiday or a little too far away (*gazes longingly at Glyndebourne*), it wasn’t until late September that things started kicking off for me again. Thankfully, Music Theatre Wales were in town, and I was lucky enough to catch their production of (the somewhat controversial) The Golden Dragon. Despite the debate that was sparked on social media regarding yellow face (an interesting and difficult issue, but one it is hugely worthwhile to discuss), I actually found the opera very moving, haunting, and specifically designed to make you think about the generalisations inflicted upon race by white people in the West.
And then there was Khovanshchina. It was an opera that I didn’t know anything about (other than the fact Mussorgsky had written it) and one I wasn’t preemptively guessing I would like… but boy, did it blow my socks off. So much so that I did something I’ve never done before, and a week later I went to see it again. (Find out more when we get into October… riiight… now):
October
‘O’ IS FOR OCTOBER, AND ALSO FOR OPERA.
Boy, was this a busy four weeks. Before all of the opera visits occurred, the month kicked off with an afternoon of unusual tea and opera banter on October 4th with former-tutor (of composition, choral master and personal varieties) Rob Fokkens. A long overdue meeting, there was much putting the world to rights, but I also received a great deal of encouragement and advice in regards to my opera-ing and other musical exploits. Plus, it was simply fun to talk for a couple of hours about, well, anything music-related that came to mind (it was a long time since that had happened). Thanks, Rob!
I saw Eugene Onegin on 6th October; since I had an extra ticket, I took my lovely, fellow opera-lady friend Jess Thomas for a night of Tchaikovsky goodness. Although the scene changes were the longest ever (not even exaggerating) I enjoyed hearing Tchaikovsky’s glorious music again – this time sung in Russian! I must also say that Natalya Romaniw (Tatyana) and Nicholas Lester (Onegin) were particularly excellent, especially Lester who I had previously seen in the role of Figaro and had found it difficult to imagine him as Onegin… you certainly proved me wrong, sir. Bravo!
You’ve been waiting to hear about Khovanshchina haven’t you? Here it goes…
Khovanshchina is weird. There’s no doubt about it. I’ve seen it twice and I still can’t figure out exactly what’s going on. But there’s equally no doubt that it is monumental; it takes huge political feuds and plays them out without letting all of the pesky trivialities of individual characters get in the way. Usually, I think I would find this unbearably dull; yet somehow the opera was mesmerising. I don’t know if it was the sheer force of the chorus (around 40+ strong – I wish you could hear the fortissimo) or the hugely exciting sounds from the orchestra or the supremely accomplished soloists, who I couldn’t possibly name individually because there were so many of them – what a strong ensemble!
And then there was the ballet sequence, which (I am not ashamed to say) was 75% of the reason I wanted to see the opera twice. I haven’t seen choreography as exciting, gripping, sexy, repulsive, or thoughtful for a long time (possibly ever). It was exceptional. And if I could watch it again, I would. Top knotch work from WNO.
Before watching From the House of the Dead, James and I tried out WNO’s VR experience ‘Magic Butterfly’. We’d unfortunately missed it back in the summer, but were pleased it was returning to the Bay for the autumn season. I’d never tried VR before so was intrigued to see what it would be like. Sadly, I was a bit disappointed with the experience; the technology felt a little simplistic and strangely dated to me, but the arias they had chosen (from ‘Magic Flute’ and Madama Butterfly) were great choices. I think it’s nice to be expanding the outreach, but I was not wowed on this occasion.
From the House of the Dead (12th October) was equally strangely disappointing; I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that sat ill with me. Was it the composition? The stage direction? Both? All I know is that, despite a pretty sweet set and a reasonable cast, I was never truly engrossed or blown away by what was happening on stage. The sound from the pit on the other hand (and we were lucky enough to be sat in row A of the stalls, just to the left of Tomáš Hanus) was exceptionally good. Full, exhilarating tutti sounds against jarringly jagged solos scrambling their way out of the texture – and all beautifully expressed by their ever-impressive conductor. Big ups to the WNO Orchestra!
Sunday 15th October proved to be a very special day for me; since seeing the announcement all the way back in February, I had been almost unacceptably excited about Tom Green’s The World’s Wife, which would be receiving its world premiere in Cardiff. As many people know I am a huge poetry fan (*cough* addict), and Carol Ann Duffy – the extraordinary poet behind The World’s Wife, a collection of poems I am very fond of – has been inspiring me since I was fifteen-years-old. I was intrigued (and, I’ll admit, a little apprehensive) to see how it would translate into an operatic setting.
I needn’t have been worried. (SPOILER: I MET MY POETRY IDOL, THE LOVELY COMPOSER, AND JUST ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE INVOLVED IN THE PROJECT). It was an excellent evening and one I’ll remember for a long time! (I still have Mrs Aesop ringing in my ears from time to time…).
A few days later (this was literally the best October of all time), I found myself headed East to the hallowed ground of Glyndebourne. My lovely Aunty Kim was taking me for a birthday and Christmas treat, and we had both decided on Così fan tutte as our opera of choice. Quite excitingly we were staying in a camper van (Glamping and Glyndebourne, anyone?!), and having sorted ourselves a place to stay for the night, we made our way to the opera house to enjoy our picnic before the show began. Even in the autumn it is nice to take a picnic, especially since the upper levels of the theatre have a space with tables and heaters to keep you warm!
I must admit, I was a tad disappointed with ‘Così’ on this occasion. I found there were a few too many moments when the singers and the orchestra were out of time with one another and, from a structural perspective, I had forgotten that the second half is somewhat lacking in pace. Nevertheless, the costumes and set design were beautiful, the slapstick from Guglielmo and Ferrando was phenomenal, and I loved Nicholas Hytner’s suitably cynical ending which seems to ask of the lovers ‘are you really satisfied with this outcome?’. Either way, there were lots of laughs had, some sublime music was heard (‘Soave sia il vento’ never seems to get old), and it was a pleasure to see a highly acclaimed production before it is put to bed. How delightful to be back at Glyndebourne again – thank you for the opportunity, Kim!
November
A cool and most fortuitous surprise I had in November was visiting a new country! As part of my sisters’ 21st birthday celebrations, my family travelled to Hungary to partake in the delights of the Budapest Christmas market and to enjoy a couple of days together. Budapest is a wonderful city; we did a lot of wandering about and seeing the sights, but didn’t go into anything in great detail. My lovely sisters did let me have a little moment of opera appreciation, firstly by having breakfast in a cafe that was situated directly in front of the opera house’s stage door (we watched a load of people piling what I can only assume were props into a van; it was very exciting), and then by having a sneak peek inside the building. The architecture of the house itself was phenomenal! My whole family were very impressed by its decadence. Sadly we didn’t have enough time for the tour on this occasion, but I guess this is an excellent excuse to return!
As has been the way for my last six years of Novembers, I attended the Cardiff University Operatic Society’s Gala Concert (this time held on Saturday 25th) for a night of concert arias and fun choruses. This year they had chosen the theme ‘Winter’, a tricky theme to programme but one that was put together awfully well. The programming was appropriate and the changes between numbers were swift and clearly well-planned, the event running smoothly at one hour running time. I very much enjoyed the addition of Tom Goddard’s inspired lighting, and the finale of the evening – Offenbach meets sci-fi (for reals) – was all sorts of barmy, so clearly I was on board. I look forward to Acis and Galatea in the new year!
December
To round off my opera-ing year, I was most privileged to be invited to sit in on Polly Graham’s R&D rehearsals for The Emperor of Atlantis with her new company Loud Crowd. ‘Atlantis’ is a fascinating piece, that throws a number of genres into the compositional mixing pot (opera, caberet, melodrama, a bit of a greek tragedy vibe…) and this accumulation of styles makes for some really intriguing theatre, wholly suited to the street performance Polly and co. had planned. It was ace to be back in the rehearsal rooms at the Wales Millennium Centre and to have a good (and much-needed) run around, having been coerced into the group warm up (it turns out I am incredibly unfit, but make a half-decent Zombie with the help of some flocking/socking techniques… yes, ‘socking’ is a thing!). As well as observing the rehearsals and catching up with old friends (heyyy Emrys, Oscar and Mike), I also managed to make myself useful by running off to town and purchasing Loud Crowd’s first asset, their very own melodica!
A few days later, I headed down to Penarth Pier with Emrys to catch the public performances of this strange, but fun opera. With the help of some yellow flags we coerced the population of Penarth to join us for some free entertainment on a surprisingly and altogether mercifully beautiful day. Sunshine and fine weather in December? Unheard of! The performance was very funny and I was so impressed by how wonderfully it worked; it attracted quite a diverse audience, too, from a gentleman with his young daughter on his knee, to an elderly man feeding the pigeons, to three teenage youths who, despite chattering amongst themselves for most of the show, did stay for the entire 25-minute performance… a merit in itself. An image that sticks in my mind was the aforementioned pigeons hurtling across the pier towards Oscar Castellino (at this point on the floor), and almost hitting him in the face, but as he lifted his arms up they flew up and into the wind; it was immensely dramatic and demonstrated the wonder that is live performance, and the many unimaginable things that can happen in the moment. More moments like that, please.
… And that’s about it for 2017! With the dazzling lights of 2018 on the horizon, looking forward to next year I’ve set myself the target of seeing at least one opera a month (let’s hope I can maintain that!), I’ve the urge to jump back into the directorial chair again (hopefully-maybe with a couple of one act beauties; fingers crossed!), and myself, Patrick and James have bagged ourselves tickets for what is sure to be the talk of London town and will be seeing the f***ing RING CYCLE at the Royal Opera House at the end of October… oh boyyyy, it’s gonna be a good year.
As ever, I think it’s really important to shout about the people who provide support, guidance, and help, whether that is from a professional perspective, an emotional perspective, or both. I couldn’t have done this year without you. Here are a few people I would love to thank for seeing me through 2017.
Thank you to:
Nigel and Jay Wilkinson, for the dream directorial opportunity; the wonderful, talented cast of St. John’s Opera’s The Magic Flute; my parents – specifically for ferrying me to and from Maidenhead and non-specifically for everything else you do; Erin Willetts, for properly awesome make-up and general moral boosting; Holly Willetts, for being herself and for letting me look in the Budapest State Opera on her birthday trip; Kim Woodward, who wanted to go to Glyndebourne (so we did); Patrick Reardon-Morgan, for being the best friend (and sometimes opera chum) a human could ask for; Nicci Morgan, for staying in touch and providing many opportunities to see things; Tom Goddard, Clair Rowden, BBC NOW, and everyone else who provided me with Cardiff Singer of the World tickets – diolch!; the grand players of Opera Town – Tomos Watkins, Katie Blackwell, Tim Coleman, Will Stevens, Emma Nelson and Rhys Batt; Ian, Paul and everyone else at Uncommon Ground – thank you for giving me a space to plan and play out my creative exploits; Titas Halder, who will be so mad he’s been included in an opera post; Mike Hearty, for cheering me on; Jess Thomas, for understanding what it’s like; Rob Fokkens, for sound advice, awesome banter and generally lifting my spirits; Rob Court, for making me think about my future (in a good way); Andrew Webb (the best manager in the world) and the amazing Scribbler Cardiff girls; Emrys Barnes, for being supportive wherever he is in the world; Polly Graham and Loud Crowd – may the future bring you many exciting things; Simply Opera; Welsh National Opera; and finally to James Sarson, who has sat by my side for many an opera this year, and didn’t seem to mind.
Cheers one and all! Much love and a very happy new year to you.
Willetts On Opera 