by Anthony Negus’ implementation of Wagner has long been the main musical glory of the Longborough Festival. Now he has turned his attention to Debussys Pelléas et Mélisande, an opera in which he supported Pierre Boulez more than 30 years ago at the Welsh National Opera. The results are no less inevitable than his Wagner.
Negus conjures up a fluent idiomatic reading of the translucent score from the dark chords of the opening bars. The pace is beautifully controlled and negus is always attentive to Debussy’s many sound colors and subtle dynamic contrasts. He pulls an adorable wooden wind from the Longborough Orchestra.
The opening of Jenny Ogilvie’s production is also immediately packed, since the barely recognizable figures of the lost Prince Golaud and the mysterious Mélisande meet in the depths of a cloudy wood. It sets the bar high for a dark mysterious staging of a mysterious work, in which Max John’s’ cubist suggestions that a lock delivers a threatening background for the powerful events of the opera, provides a threatening background. The stage is often almost just, with the characters facing the outside without direct interaction. In the middle of such a discipline, Mélisande’s scene on the tower window, which imaginatively translates into a huge garden swing, has the more influence on its impulsive movement.
The lighting of Peter Small plays a decisive stage role, occasionally light and trained, dazzling during the death of Pelléas, but more often suggestive and fleeting in the middle of the weight of the shadow. A tiny, bright light bulb flickers like a will-o ‘-the Wisp and deepens the darkness behind it. When the darkness occasionally lifts and Debussy’s orchestration begins with it, the lighting of the stage is like a hint of fresh air, but it is only at the moment. Everything has been added to one of the experienced, atmospheric and well-integrated Pelléas productions for years, and possibly the largest successful show that Longborough has assembled.
However, there are reservations. Three silent servants, the entrance of which is indeed signaled in the text in the last scene, are more extensive as extras and scene switches, including a memorable moment as a sleeping beggar in a cave. Although they never speak, they give twice inner thoughts and raise them into an undecided chorus. This feels an Otiosian moment in a production in which music, staging, lights and performances are so likeable.
Kateryna Kasper gives Mélisande an ideal combination of soprano richness and soubrette brightness under a strongly occupied group of school leaders. Karim Sulayman’s light -minded Pelléas sounds almost improvised in his fluence of conversation, but his tenor flowers in moments of passion. Brett Polegato is an intense and intelligent Golaud. Julian Close brings the dark authority for King Arkel, Catherine Carby is a plentiful forecast geneviève and Nia Coleman, almost everywhere on stage, is a brightly convincing Yniold.
• until July 10th. Our reviewer took part in the second performance.
