“Concert performance” the Proms Guide had announced, primly underselling what turned out to be an exuberant “production” – fully costumed, if without many actual props – of Berlioz’ Benvenuto Cellini. This opera semiseria, a fictionalised account of the wild escapades of the Renaissance sculptor, shifting the action from Florence to Rome and culminating in the forging of his great masterpiece, Perseus with the Head of Medusa. With fiery red lighting and smoke effects, Duncan Meadows – sporting a bronze spray tan and not much else – appeared as the statue, crowning Noa Naamat’s effective staging.
Sir John Eliot Gardiner, bringing his five-year Berlioz odyssey at the BBC Proms to a close in the year marking the 150th anniversary of the composer’s death, conducted his own composite version of the score, drawing on the Weimar and both Paris versions. As is Gardiner’s fashion, the Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique played the overture standing, providing the requisite zing to kick off the evening. So much energy oozes from the ORR, it’s difficult to know where to begin, but the tangy, ripe woodwinds deserve prime billing. The quartet of grumbling bassoons to accompany Maurizio Muraro’s curmudgeonly Balducci deserve mention, as does the lilting, curvaceous cor anglais solo, a plangent pause in the otherwise ebullient “Roman Carnival” finale to Act 1. The lithe ORR strings danced and wove through Berlioz’ silvery writing, while the narrow-bore trombones gave the brass meticulous precision, without sacrificing power. And kudos to ophicleide player Marc Girardot, playing the donkey with relish in the pantomime episode of King Midas.
Naamat’s staging has already played at the Berlioz Festival in the composer’s birthplace of La Côte-Saint-André, and at the Musikfest Berlin, so the singers – despite a couple of previously unadvertised “short notice” replacements – were well inside their roles. The business of the staging, using a wide apron in front of the orchestra and a roomy platform at the rear, meant that voices were not always audible, but such are the hazards of the Royal Albert Hall.