Interviewed at the Barbican Centre last year, Stephen Fry described Gerald Barry’s score for The Importance of Being Earnest (2010) rather unfavourably as “taking a machete to a soufflé”. However, this zany opera based on Oscar Wilde’s classic play of 1895 has already emerged victorious from concert premières in Los Angeles and London. It has had audiences guffawing with abandon at its array of Second Viennese School parodies, plate-smashing at the tea table, and musical mash-ups of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and Auld Lang Syne. Unsurprisingly, the staged UK première at the Royal Opera House’s Linbury Studio Theatre this month has sold out. The performance gave us a first taste of Barry’s collaboration with director Ramin Gray and their attempts to bring this comic masterpiece to life.
Wilde described The Importance of Being Earnest as treating “all the trivial things of life seriously, and all the serious things of life with sincere and studied triviality”. The play offers a facetious display of Edwardian values whereby the most whimsical of desires, such as marrying a man with the name Earnest, assume paramount significance. In a similar fashion, Barry’s score could be seen to make a nonsense of operatic codes and a rationale out of nonsense. It is dominated by ungracious rhythmical thrusts, pulsations that overtake the singers, and ludicrous ruptures. Far from providing a musical context for the narrative, the score is simply the driving force that propels the singers forward. Paul Griffiths’ programme note characterises it as “a merry-go-round, speedy and brilliantly painted, from which they [the cast] yell out as they pass”. Indeed, the “yelling out” consists of piercing shrieks, endless virtuosic runs at inconsequential moments, and the hacking-up of words into their constituent syllables.
In this production, the stage, composed of downward steps extending into the audience, had no wings or exits. With the cast climbing up from front-row seats to perform and Britten Sinfonia positioned along the descent, the boxed-in entertainment had a Beckettian feel to it. This served the eccentricities of Barry’s score well, but shirt starch and corsetry were sorely missed on the wardrobe front. While there was no obligation to produce period costume, Gray’s everyman attire did little to enhance the polarities between outrageous caprice and courteous civility that are latent in Wilde’s play and active in Barry’s music.