I’m sure before long I’ll see a production of Daisy Pulls It Off that opens with modern day soldiers charging onto the stage waving rifles about – it seems to be the first image directors reach for these days. At least here, though not specifically called for by the libretto, it does have some relevance – young Owen Wingrave is at military academy, but while his schoolfriend Lechmere can’t wait to be in the thick of it, Owen is beginning to entertain some doubts about the path his family’ expectations have set him on.
The modern setting extends to a video screen on which we see what Owen is looking at on his laptop – news websites reporting atrocities in Iraq and Afghanistan, and finally his own Facebook page (though the picture wasn’t clear enough to read the status update we see him adding). Whilst this is a more creative use of video than opera directors often manage, the updating does lead to a fairly obvious problem – is it plausible these days that Owen would encounter such Edwardian attitudes, not just from one or two people but from everyone around him? Wouldn’t it rather be the gung-ho militarist who found himself isolated?
That aside, director Kelly Robinson and designer Madeleine Boyd provide a compelling production in difficult circumstances – a traverse theatre space isn’t ideal for opera, especially vernacular opera, as half the time any given performer will be facing away from you or at best facing sideways, making comprehension difficult. Moreover, this is an immensely ambitious piece for students to take on – I don’t envy them trying to pick their pitches out of this late Britten score, written only nine years after the War Requiem and expressing much the same sentiments but in infinitely more sparse and angular music (especially in David Matthews’ reduced orchestration).
In general, critics are asked to be kind to student singers and not judge them by the same standards as professionals, but in the event no such caveat was necessary – the singing was almost uniformly excellent. As Owen, Benjamin Appl’s voice was clear and strong, and he’d certainly be employed by Abercrombie and Fitch, though it has to be said he didn’t bring a lot of acting to the role, either physically or in his vocal inflection. His teacher Coyle, who is also a close friend of the family (again more plausible in an Edwardian setting) was taken by Joseph Padfield, his singing warm and rounded but sometimes a little thick at the expense of clarity. Adam Smith’s Lechmere was a picture of puppylike eagerness to please. Amongst the smaller roles, Raphaela Papadakis impressed as the ambitious Mrs Julian, and Samantha Crawford made a sympathetic Mrs Coyle.