Hooray Henries dress as Nuns and break into wine cellar


If that sounds like the plot of an opera, it’s because it is.

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Tue 15th, Wed 16th, Fri 18th Jul 19.00h
Sun 20th Jul 14:30h

The Adventures of Count Ory (think Tintin crossed with Don Juan) a cartoonish take on Rossini’s le Comte d’Ory is the latest production from the ever wonderful Blackheath Halls, and the creative team which is Harry Fehr, Nick Jenkins and Rose Ballantyne; and one of the reasons I’ve not been on this site in a while. (That, and trying to organise a festival for the winter solstice, launch a new Arachne Press Title, and plan the next one!)

Religious fever has gripped a small feudal town (Camberwick Green! With a Castle!) as the ‘Hermit’ a modern-day evangelical preacher comes to town. But all is not as it seems. Disguise and Deception  are the order of the day, and chaos quickly ensues.

Tickets are selling fast get your now

I’ll be one of the ones in a habit/white ties & tails/ combat gear /etc etc.

 

Blackheath Cendrillon: A Post from the Court Poet, Grand Duchess Elizabette


‘CENDRILLON’ – A TRIBUTE

The skies above were leaden, the clouds loomed dark and grey,
but, at the Halls, the mood was light, all musical and gay.
Forget the Jubilympics,  forget the Torch Relay,
‘Cinderella, the Opera’ is the order of the day.

Nick Jenkins was regaling us with tales of Gay Paree,
La Belle Epoque, the Opera, the splendid Comedie.
We worried for his sanity –  he was so darn frenetic,
so passionate, so supercharged, so horribly energetic,
that, in the end, we really felt we really had to say,
‘Take a chill pill, calm down, Nick,  it’s only Massenet.’

Now, Harry, we’ve been wondering, when you were just a kid,
did you do all the games and pastimes other nippers did?
Or were your days spent reading Ikea catalogues,
instead of guns and football and walking with the dogs?
It’s just that we have noticed (and this isn’t disapproval),
that you seem to have a penchant for furniture removal.

Picture Harry with an analyst, you know the archetype,
goatee, bow tie and accent that you could cut with a knife.
Says Freud, ‘Lie on zis sofa, you’re obsessed und I can prove it.’
Harry says, My God, a sofa! I know just the place to move it!’

Madame is shrill and shrewish, she yells and screams and bickers,
but she is just a parvenu, all fur coat and no knickers.
The sisters weird, their mother mad, their schemes all dark and miry,
in fact, just like the Murdochs at the Leveson Enquiry.

Ah, poor Monsieur, we felt for you, your girl abused and spurned.
Oh how we cheered and clapped our hands when your inner worm it turned!
You showed Madame who’s master, but we fervently hope and pray,
you never buy her a copy of  ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’!

While cougars prowled the catwalk in search of princely bounty,
the younger ones were definitely of the set called ‘county’.
In their gorgeous ball gowns, they looked divine and lush.
More swaying derrieres were there than Pippa’s famous tush!
The panoply of human life, the highnesses and lownesses  –
there was more money at that ball than bankers’ annual bonuses!

Though suicide attempts were made, there were no casualties,
for in the fairy hospital were fairy remedies.
In fact, the Fairy Godmother was pulling all the strings.
Her silver call rang out and all the fairies flapped their wings.
Her powers are legendary – all must hear and obey.
She got a hotline call from Dave and Nick the other day.
‘G4S is yours’ they cried, ‘and, if you want to stay,
we’ll put you in the Cabinet instead of Theresa May!’

The brides thought they were shoe-ins, but hefty feet and shins,
meant that they could not fit into those dainty Louboutins.
Don’t worry, thwarted sisters, your futures don’t look dark –
just go down to Mahiki’s and nab an oligarch.

Oh, Prince and Cinderella, you tugged at our heartstrings.
We sobbed and cried with tears of joy when you exchanged your rings.
But even now the Godmother, though you are all loved up,
is at the elfin lawyer’s, looking through the prenup.

Our revels now are ended but we hope we may, we might,
next year – if funding will allow – continue this delight.
We all desire to sing again and to enjoy the sight,
of a little bit of Harry and Nick Jenkins in the night!

Written by Elizabeth Goldman © July 2012
and dedicated, with love and thanks,
on behalf of Blackheath Halls Community Opera Chorus to:
Harry Fehr & Nick Jenkins

Rinaldo – but no sea-serpents


Straight from Opera rehearsal, to watching Opera, at Blackheath Halls, this time a production from Trinity Laban.  Home from home you’d think, (and we are considering getting camp beds put up in the recital room we are there so much) but nonetheless it required a gear change. 

I’m not familiar with Rinaldo, and we were in a bit of a rush and hadn’t bought a programme, so it was a bit of a jolt when it was in Italian.  I’ve got so used to singing opera in English I just assumed it would be.  Not that it detracted from my enjoyment in any way.  Having heard Harry Fehr’s story about Glyndbourne Dowagers, I think he would have enjoyed the ladies passing us on the steps, where we were eating a quick sandwich, “Who wrote this opera anyway?”

The characters were helpfully labelled, (modern army wear has a tendency to labels; these ones were embroidered by my next-door-neighbour, as it happens) so we knew who was who, more or less. My Italian stretches to Sposa and No, so I worked out that young Rinaldo wanted to marry the pretty young thing who was the chief honcho’s daughter and that this hadn’t gone down well with Daddy.

This is a Harry Fehr production, so we expected some witty touches and we got them.  The trumpet fanfare to announce the opposing army’s general come to talk terms was the phone going for a video conference.  The enchantress Armida, who is in league with the opposition (later, programme bought, revealed to be Saracens) seemed to be running something between and opium den and a brothel, all white day beds, and net curtains.  It has been vexing me what the design theme was… not quite James Bond – too low rent, at the same time as not being sufficiently cheesy;  I want to say Modest Blaise but I don’t know if enough people would know what I mean – it’s somewhere in the zeitgeist of The Man from Uncle, The Saint, with a dash of the original Avengers.  Tom Oldham take a bow.

A great deal of fun is had with mobile phones and laptops, and being an H. Fehr production, the cast get to move furniture and eat real food.

Plot-wise, in typical opera fashion, it doesn’t hang together at all.  Armida  promises Argante the Saracen leader that she will get Rinaldo out of the way so that the Christian army will be powerless before the Saracens, but when she has a gun to his head, instead of shooting him she shrugs petulantly and kidnaps his girlfriend instead.

Rinaldo is sung by Gordon Waterson who is listed as an alto, and certainly his voice isn’t quite counter tenor, which is what I was expecting, and lacked the vibrancy of a Christopher Robson or James Bowman. The role was originally written for a castrato, and on alternate nights is sung by a woman, if I had the time I would have tried both casts, just out of interest.  I did struggle a little with the concept Rinaldo as a great warrior, he didn’t seem the brightest chicken in the roost; letting his girl be kidnapped, gullibly following obvoius no-gooders into a trap despite being warned…

Several of the other roles were played by different cast members depending on the night, and on Saturday, Almirena (Rinaldo’s lover) was played by Daisy Brown who sang with us last year in the Elixir of Love.  She has a lovely sweet toned voice, and threw herself into the role with enthusiasm. 

However the high point for me, vocally and acting wise, was the Enchantress, Armida, played on this occasion by Susanna Fairbairn. (the characters’ names were very confusing too many similar sounding ones starting with A.)  By turns stroppy, viscious, efficient, winsome, indignant and vengeful, I particularly enjoyed Armida’s fist fight with the Saracen general, and her later tidying the in-tray on his desk.

I also enjoyed the britches part, (a requirement in any Handel Opera) on this occasion, the Christian general’s brother Eustazio, but as everyone was in camouflage anyway, s/he might just as readily been his wife or sister.  Played as cool and impatient by Dalma Krajnyak;  S/he is the rational core of the story: the one who thinks Rinaldo and Almirena should marry, the one who leads the expedition to get her back when she is kidnapped, the one who knows the man who know what they need to know; the one who tells Rinaldo not to trust the strange women they just happen to meet, and the one who rescues the remarkably ineffective Rinaldo and his beloved Almirena from the harpies that support Armida.

Handel loved to reuse his tunes; after all, back when he was writing there were no iPods or CDs so the chance of someone saying hold on, I’ve heard this before were slender.  There are several tunes that I vaguely found familiar, but in particular Almirena’s aria from her captivity is the famous one that is used in both Ariodante and Xerxes, and probably others too (Daisy sang it beautifully). 

The Orchestra under the direction of Nicholas Kraemer were excellent. The tone was jsut right and the measured pace burst into furious energy with panache.  I particularly enjoyed the trumpets, who didn’t have much to do, but really went for it when they did. 

Coming back from the interval we noticed the theorbo player alone in the orchestra space, retuning; and I pondered the decision making process that gets a musician to choose such an awkward instrument,  even if I adored the sound it made, I’d think twice about taking on something nearly twice my height!

One quibble- the marketing distinctly mentioned mermaids and dragons (which I had conflated into sea serpents).  Where were they?!!!

Copyright Cherry Potts 2011