This well-established and widely admired production of Handel's Giulio Cesare in Egitto premiered at Glyndebourne in 2005 and was last played here in 2018. Sir David McVicar has returned to direct this fourth revival of his production, which dresses classical Rome as Imperial Britain, Caesar’s Legions garbed as the thin red line. Ptolemaic Egypt is brought forward to its Ottoman era, although joint-monarch Cleopatra favours un-regal but alluring modern dresses. Set designer Robert Jones references Baroque theatre, recalling a famous illustration of a colonnaded set open at the back to varied distant prospects, here always marine with mechanically rolling waves. The period varies though, as those waves are first traversed in the age of sail, then that of ironclads and airships.
Caesar’s breastplate – in Handel’s day generic military attire no matter the period portrayed – is proof against the numerous swords and knives that are flourished, less so against the pistols and rifles. Sesto slays Tolomeo, who murdered his father and is forcing himself on his mother, using both sword and firearm. This is one of two onstage deaths in the libretto (the other is Achilla) in an age when characters always left the stage to die.
Which suggests little scope for humour in this mighty work. But McVicar noted when his production was new “Entertainment is not a dirty word”. But there was no laughter (if that was what “entertainment” implied) at the giant hand descending to point at Sesto while he sings, and using Pompey’s urn as an ashtray was not Cleopatra’s finest moment. But mostly such things are in character and in scale. And Cleopatra is one of Baroque opera’s greatest creations – standing alongside Shakespeare’s for some authorities – because she moves convincingly from the frivolous flirt determined to seduce Caesar by deception, to a mature woman suffering when she falls for him, and he faces peril, or has perhaps perished. The direction respects, indeed supports, the many fine numbers carrying a serious emotional charge. Also the substantial and inventive dance elements, choreographed by Andrew George, always arrive at the right moments, provoked by the dance rhythms of an Italian-influenced composer.
This revival is very strongly cast, and some members have a previous association with the production. The title role was superbly sung by countertenor Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen, strong and stirring as man of action, tender and poignant as would-be lover. The first Handel opera production he saw was this one, at the Metropolitan Opera. His fine singing of his famous “Va tacito e nascosto” enjoyed the support of noble obbligato natural horn playing, and strutting choreography that displayed the mutually antagonistic relations between the Romans and Tolomeo’s court. The Cleopatra of Louise Alder was his match, deploying her bright and flexible soprano equally well in some athletic coloratura (“Da tempeste”) or lyrical passion (“V’adoro, pupille”). Alder was an 18-year old music student, her mother playing in the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment when this production was new, and seeing it kindled her own opera ambitions.
Beth Taylor was a splendid Cornelia, and although her role can seem one of too much lamentation, each item was welcome, so beautiful was her singing. Her experience of the production was only on DVD, which she had “just about worn out” with viewings. Sesto, a mere youth, tends to steal his scenes, and mezzo-soprano Svetlina Stoyanova’s delightful voice invested every line with meaning. Sesto’s eventual victim Tolomeo was sung by countertenor Cameron Shahbazi, making a very good impression indeed, acting and singing well on his house debut. The third countertenor in the cast was Ray Chenez, also a house debutant, who played and sang Nireno (a sort of guide and ‘fixer’) most effectively, making much of his various interactions with others. The major low voice was the bass of Luca Tittoto as Achilla, and like the others performing at Glyndebourne for the first time, his impressive singing will surely be welcomed back.
Laurence Cummings was one of the conductors in the first run of those initial 2005 performances of this production, and of course is a great authority on authentic Handel performance, so his expertise in musical direction can almost be taken for granted. He is especially attuned to the metrical variety in the music, as well as the need to keep a clear sense of pulse even with the abundant slow music. Perhaps Cleopatra’s “Piangerò” at first seemed more becalmed than slow, but Alder nonetheless sustained the line. The OAE, a large group in Giulio Cesare, were splendid, alert and responsive to every development in Handel’s ageless score.
