Political machinations and sexual intrigue belong to any era and society. They are neatly outlined in Monteverdi’s 17th-century masterpiece L'incoronazione di Poppea at the Grange Festival. Seen through an episode in the life of the Roman emperor Nero, who abandons his wife Ottavia for the seductive charms of Poppea, the opera’s triumph of vice over virtue is clearly a reversal of conventional morality. Walter Sutcliffe’s largely modern dress production, in partnership with Oper Halle, serves to underline the contemporaneity of Giovanni Busenello’s morally redundant characters. It's just a pity their ambition and greed are given uneven portrayals, but there’s much to admire in some standout singing and captivating playing from La Nuova Musica.
Opening night enjoyed a dramatic uplift after the interval as singers hit their stride, but the presentation overall is not without flaws. Chief amongst these are the distracting electronic texts that dazzle the eye throughout the Prologue. Mercifully, conventional surtitles are used throughout Act 1, but Sutcliffe and designer Jon Bausor inflict more scrolling texts on the audience later when they are subjected to 1st-century Roman axioms Tacitus. The simple set comprises a three-sided Roman villa with wobbly columns straight out of Up Pompeii!, reminding me, all too readily, of a leering Frankie Howerd. Scenes of seduction are enhanced by Peter Mumford’s boudoir-style lighting and a wheeled-on double bed. These are passing offences compared with the ongoing frustration of singers often proclaiming directly to the audience, reducing any credible relationship between themselves. Here, some directorial intervention would have been welcome.
Irritations aside, there were some standout performances. Amongst the men, Christopher Lowrey’s gutless Ottone sang with ardour, his Act 1 lament beautifully poised. The increasingly unstable Nerone was taken by tenor Sam Furness whose coke-snorting scene with Gwilym Bowen’s Lucano was a highpoint of the evening – and provided one of several erotically charged moments. The sonorous bass of Jonathan Lemalu’s Seneca brought warmth of tone and character, but it was a shame the madrigal with which his friends bid him adieu was sung unseen from the wings.
Kitty Whately made a petulant and nicely sung Poppea, though only warming to her role after the interval with a fine duet with Nerone. Frances Gregory, as her nurse, Arnalta, made her ambitions increasingly clear and sang a fine lullaby to Poppea – one of those magical moments of exquisite stillness. Fiona Kimm, as Ottavia’s nurse, was a real force to be reckoned with, her natural stage presence holding the audience in the palm of her hand with every word of advice to her mistress (“Honour lies in vengeance”), with everything wonderfully characterised. Vanessa Waldhart’s Drusilla was keenly sung, but it was Anna Bonitatibus as the rejected Empress Ottavia who really compelled, her farewell to Rome as bitter as it was moving.
In the pit, there were occasions when it seemed more life was being pumped into the production than on stage under David Bates’ flamboyant direction of the period instrument group La Nuova Musica. So dynamic was his manner with the assembled company of continuo players – harpsichords, theorbos and harps with a few violins – that the words ‘sledgehammer’ and ‘nut’ periodically came to mind. But the sheer enthusiasm was compelling, and it was fascinating to hear the range of timbre and weight from the ensemble, ear-catching in its variety.
