Intriguing, mysterious, intense: Sir George Benjamin's Picture a day like this

Who knew that gentle humour could be drawn from the tale of a grief-stricken woman searching for a miracle to bring her child back to life? At first sight, Sir George Benjamin and Martin Crimp’s new chamber opera Picture a day like this looks like a sombre study of a human tragedy, but this is the creative duo that brought us Into the Little Hill, Written on Skin and Lessons in Love and Violence. They always have something intriguing and mysterious to say.

First seen at Festival d'Aix-en-Provence earlier this year, this modern parable, which Crimp has adapted from a number of folk sources, takes us immediately into the depths of the Woman’s despair (she has no name; she is universal). But she has hope: she’s been told that if she can pluck a button from the sleeve of a truly happy person, her child will live again. She sets off on a dream-like journey, meeting a series of vivid characters in her search for that tiny but hugely significant token.

Two lovers tell her they are ecstatically happy in each others arms. Could the Woman have struck lucky first time? But as she reaches for a shirt to take a button the male lover announces that he leads an energetically polyamorous life – which is news to his partner, whose happiness pops like a balloon. 

And so it goes on: an artisan button-maker’s happiness is chemically induced; a self-important composer finds her huge success hollow and empty; an immensely rich collector offers her rooms full of miracles, but they are works of art. Moved by her grief he opens a door into an enchanted garden, where she meets Zabelle, a woman who represents a final hope for Woman.

Benjamin’s great talent is to seize upon the episodic nature of this fable and give it a musical cohesiveness. While each scene differs markedly from the one preceding it, the overall sophisticated musical character is retained. Scored for a small ensemble of strings, woodwind, brass, percussion and harp, the music gleams under the Woman’s desperate hope, rasps and rattles when she gives way to despair, yet chuckles at the lovers’ dilemma and the composer’s pomposity, all within a specifically defined musical language.

Benjamin always writes with specific singers in mind and gives them beautiful, soaring vocal lines, often sparingly accompanied so that each important phrase, each intriguing interval is sent out into the auditorium unburdened. Three artists made their Royal Opera debuts: taking over from Marianne Crebassa in Aix, Ema Nikolovska gave an outstanding performance as Woman, caressing Benjamin’s sinuous writing with an unbearable tenderness; impressively creamy baritone John Brancy, as both Artisan and Collector, and witty, clean-toned countertenor Cameron Shahbazi as the lascivious Lover 2 and Composer’s Assistant. 

Bright soprano Beate Mordal revelled as the duped Lover 1 and ever-so-grand Composer, while Jacquelyn Stucker brought stately composure to Zabelle. 

Co-direction, lighting, design and dramaturgy on a cool, bare stage comes from Daniel Jeanneteau and Marie-Christine Soma. Corinna Niemeyer conducted members of the Royal Opera Orchestra, and videographer Hicham Berrada created a weirdly exotic garden for Zabelle. The whole thing is an extraordinarily intense experience. There are still tickets. Go.