There was an element of scenic continuity between the lush greenery and positively balmy Holland Park evening surrounding us, and the staging of Opera Holland Park’s production of L’elisir d’amore: in the background, a large greenhouse full of the brightest sunflowers; in the foreground, sunflowers dotted about the stage, and the back ends of two lorries plastered with a large image of a field of those flowers, complete with Adina, the business’s poster girl, gazing up dreamily to the azure blue sky.
It was not your average setting for Donizetti’s rom-com of an opera. Initially, I found Leslie Travers’ setting stylish and intriguing – not quite minimalist, but certainly a neat aesthetic of blue and its near-complementary, yellow; a modern-day, agricultural update on the bucolic setting that Donizetti and librettist Felice Romani had envisaged. The chorus, workers on the sunflower farm, bore vivid, turquoise uniforms comprising boiler suits, dungarees and caps, whilst Adina’s dress was closer to a sapphire hue. Tall trolleys of seedlings cleverly acted as moveable staging for the singers to climb up, hide behind, and lean against. However, the set ultimately became tiresome: singers constantly hiding behind or suggestively toying with the flowers, and the lack of scene change for the wedding jollities towards the end (even if the chorus did change into bohemian-chic costumery) jarred with the sense of the occasion.
That said, the humour of L’elisir was craftily brought out at every opportunity by the singers’ excellent acting and director Pia Furtado’s clear understanding of the subtleties of the libretto and music. The crazed, shamanic nature of Dulcamara, sung by Geoffrey Dolton (standing in for Richard Burkhardt at the last minute – not that you’d have known), provided the audience with many a laugh. Real comedy value was injected into the role of Nemorino (Aldo di Toro), who remained in the belief that the elixir was having an effect when the reasons for his increasing good fortune were patently obvious to those watching. Best of all in this respect were the bumbling soldiers, whose unsynchronised goose-stepping behind their sergeant Belcore’s (George von Bergen) polished front, together with their constantly keeping one eye on the women, presented a Dad’s Army-cum-Blackadder Goes Forth pastiche of military incompetence – a visual precursor of Belcore’s ultimate misfortune, perhaps.