At a time when some companies are doubling down on the standard repertory, credit to English Touring Opera for rolling out Rimsky-Korsakov’s The Snow Maiden, an underloved Russian opera that doesn’t quite match Tchaikovsky at his best, but is packed with lyricism, melody and the struggle for love. ETO doesn’t always deliver the goods, but this new production left me thinking how lucky residents of Exeter, Poole and other cities will be to have a chance to hear music-making of such calibre: this is exactly the kind of standard at which a high quality touring company should aim to be operating.
Olivia Fuchs’ production reflects an inevitably tight budget as well as the burdens of bouncing between regional theatres; the seasons are conveyed through careful lighting, ears of corn and some canny screens. Personenregie is at the very heart of the production: the Snow Maiden buries herself in a book, an introvert, a social outcast, a product of an unhappy family. The production hints at autism in some of her mannerisms, a convincing interpretation of the piece. Beyond the seasons, other clashes are skilfully evoked – Spring Beauty and Grandfather Frost are emotionally reticent and well-heeled, the former in fur and the latter in traditional banker’s garb, in contrast to the warmly chaotic peasants. A cheery sense of paganism runs through the production, highlighted by the large round circle that dominates a screen at the rear of the stage, all vaguely reminiscent of Stephen King.
The concept is not perfect: the decision to put Tsar Berendey in an admittedly very fetching dress with some eye-catching headgear seems dramatically incoherent and inserts an inadvertent degree of levity to scenes that detract from the theatrical impact. Is Fuchs trying to make a comment on the isolation of the autocrat, or perhaps highlight the difference in mores between the peasant class and the ruling class? Likewise, I struggled with the girls shivering in their display cases in the Prologue: is Fuchs highlighting chilly parenting that focuses on appearance over substance? Ambiguity can be a valuable artistic tool, but a little more clarity in concept would have reinforced the high quality direction that Fuchs brought to her cast. The decision to sing in English was validated by Alasdair Middleton’s excellent translation and the high quality diction shown by the cast; larger companies should take note.
Among the singers, it was hard to find a weak link; amid a reasonably sized ensemble, what a treat to hear such uniform excellence across such a range of interesting voices. Ffion Edwards stood out as the Snow Maiden in an assumption of the role that captured the coming-of-age element, as well as her vulnerabilities and isolation, her confusion at a world she doesn’t understand. With registers integrated, a delicate trill at the top of the voice and a pellucid tone, Edwards delighted throughout. Kitty Whately sang Lel with a swagger in both step and in voice, the songs in Act 1 melodic and rich in narrative.
Edmund Danon gave us a Mizgir with cleanly defined character progression – unreconstructed love rat in Act 2, nuanced and heartfelt lover by Act 4. His one-time betrothed, Katherine McIndoe, oozed fury as the abandoned Kupava, her creamy soprano splattering the stage with betrayal as she is summarily dumped in the most humiliating circumstances. Joseph Doody’s pale, slightly reedy tenor was well-suited to his rather enigmatic Tsar, graceful and and well-phrased. Hannah Sandison’s gentle, expressive mezzo-soprano gave a slightly melancholic Spring Beauty. In the pit, Hannah Quinn led a flavoursome, vivid reading of the score, lingering over some of the most beautiful phrases and in complete harmony of approach with the principals, while keeping the pace up for the more effervescent ensemble scenes. A compelling case for both Rimsky's opera and for the company.
