Due to train problems, I arrived at the venue for Pappano’s masterclass in a rush – the clock in the neighbouring church had just struck 3pm – and at the entrance I nearly crashed into Pappano and the accompanist popping out of the main door to get into the stage entrance at the side of the theatre. I made it with seconds to go….

Three young singers were receiving tuition from Pappano for about an hour and a half, singing two Gounod arias – one from Faust, one from Romeo and Juliet – plus Susanna’s act 4 aria from the Marriage of Figaro. The final singer also sang the brief Composer aria from the end of Act 1 of Strauss’ Ariadne auf Naxos, with Pappano conducting at full throttle. First on stage was Jane Burnell – also heard in La Canterina last week; a bass baritone, Steffan Lloyd Evans, and Indyana Schneider, both currently based at the Zurich Opera Studio.

I have never been to a masterclass before. It is an awkward business – difficult for the coach to get the tone right, to make comments that are to the point and instructive but at the same time not demeaning or humiliating; also avoiding the temptation to play to the gallery. And it is difficult for the singers to face a barrage of comments that they feel may be unfair and keep smiling for the audience. It is meant to be a two-way process but of course, with an audience as a third presence, the process can be, I guess, distorted. Pappano managed it very well though very occasionally he was making a comment to the audience that one might think unnecessary. The singers were very gracious and good-hearted. Some key themes emerged from the conversation in terms of Pappano’s comments to singers – to remember always you are on a stage and you must project to an audience; the importance of legato lines in singing; the importance of projecting the words. We were told that ‘audiences will be attracted by your eyes’; ‘keep them alive’. The singers were told to take less breaths – you can take fewer than you think – to help with a smooth line. The young singers were commendable in taking all this on the chin and not betraying any frustration at the constant repetition of small phrases. And in each case they did sound better at the end compared to their first run through……….

An hour later Pappano was interviewed by Adrian Kelly, who had been the accompanist in the masterclass and is also the music director of the Buxton Festival, about his new autobiography. Pappano was very emphatic that what he was doing was show business- that there was no inherent difference between performing a Beethoven symphony or Tristan und Isolde and Sweeney Todd – all were about putting on a show for an audience, and, for Pappano, telling a story was paramount. He told a very funny anecdote about having problems with the flute solo in the finale of Brahms 4, and writing to Carlos Kleiber about it. Kleiber wrote back asking him to image an Italian beautiful duchess in distress, a dangerous villain nearby closing in on her……Pappano said he wanted to have a story behind each piece he conducted (his mentor Barenboim made a similar point – he once said something like ‘the note C is a note; C followed by A is a story’). Pappano said how much his involvement in his early 20’s working on American musicals in New York had been transformational for him – he wanted everyone on stage where he was working to regard the audience as a god, and for the stage experience to have the bite, the perfect timing, the precision of American musicals. He told us about how his training had been very different from most conductors – he had never formally studied music, had  never been to conducting classes, and his experience was wholly on the job training from a sequence of lucky, but obviously merited, breaks, and from the profound knowledge of works in the Italian repertoire learned from his father (a singing coach who used his son as a piano playing accompanist from a young age – 10, maybe?). Often he was finding himself in his early years just being thrown in at the deep end and suddenly having to, for instance, learn ‘Lulu’ over a weekend to conduct a run of performances. Throughout Pappano demonstrated his inexhaustible funds of energy and enthusiasm – clearly an uplifting and inspiring colleague for many. He was hoping to find more time for studying scores now he has left Covent Garden, and he enthused about his new role with the LSO

Joseph Bodin de Boismortier Sonata No. 3 in D,  Purcell, Suite No 4, Bach Cello Suite No 1, Francesco Barsanti, Sonata in C, Scarlatti, sonata in F, Nicholas Antoine Bergiron.  Claire Babington, baroque cello, Amanda Babington, violin, recorder, musette, and David Francis, harpsichord

Baroque in the North has been developing strategies to improve accessibility to and knowledge exchange via live music – for schools, amateur players and “an initiative to take live music (and tea and cake!) to small rural communities in the North West” – hence this concert.

I heard them in Castleton a couple of years ago, when just the two women were playing, and it was good to hear them again, this time with the addition of a harpsichord. As I listened to the music, I was asking myself why, on an equally murky and wet day, this concert was more uplifting than the very similar sort of concert I heard in Buxton three days earlier. I think it was a combination of:

• less tuning problems!
• personable and informative introductions to each piece
• some top drawer works included (Purcell, Bach, Scarlatti), along with the more obscure pieces
• a more varied set of instruments, particularly the recorder and the musette (small bagpipes like Northumbrian pipes)
• perhaps linked with the bullet above, a more varied sense of mood in the pieces, from the near folk dance of Bergiron (with the musette) through the cheerful recorder sounds of Barsanti to the high seriousness and inwardness of Bach

This was an enjoyable and well planned concert -I’m glad I went………..

Jane Burnell Gasparina; Dominic Mattos Apollonia; Jonah Halton Don Pelagio; Helen Maree Cooper Don Ettore; Toby Hession Conductor; Lysanne Van Overbeek Director; Elliott Squire Designer

I’m reading Thayer’s Life of Beethoven at present – the first person to have systematically tracked through by personal interview all those who knew Beethoven and were still alive in the 1850’s, and all the official sources of information to be found from records and archives. It’s striking how many operas the local court in Bonn (where Beethoven grew up) was putting on in the 1770’s and 80’s – dim names from the past like Reicha and Paisiello, as well as Mozart’s Idomeneo and Die Entfuhrung, Clearly most composers didn’t expect their operas to last more than a season or two (even Handel) and Haydn at the beginning of his career would have had even less expectation of a continuing existence for his work.

 According to Wikipedia, La canterina (The Songstress or The Diva), Hob. XXVIII/2) is a short, two-act opera buffa by Joseph Haydn, the first one he wrote for Prince Esterhazy. Based on the intermezzo from the third act of Niccolò Piccinni’s opera L’Origille (1760), it lasts about 50 minutes. It was written in 1766, and was premiered in the summer of that year. Haydn I am sure would have agreed that it is a slight piece and he would probably have been amazed to find it being revived 250 years later.

The stage of the Pavilion Arts Centre had both a small orchestra (10 people at most) on the stage, towards the back of stage right, and the diva’s dressing room, looking appropriately 18^th century. The actors all looked the part – Jonah Halton was appropriately superior-looking, Dominic Mattos plays a wildly over-the-top pantomime dame-type Mother. But the show really hangs on the person playing Gasparina, who must both sing well, be a good actor, and look stunning. Jane Burnell offered all three attributes in spades, and held the audience’s attention securely throughout the show. Haydn’s music trundles along enjoyably enough – and the musical experience is arguably better than hearing the Salieri comic opera I went to last September………………..

M Marais Pièces de Viole, Livre IV – Suite No. 1 in D minor; F Couperin Pièces de Viole – Suite No. 1 in E minor; M Marais Pièces de Viole, Livre IV – Suite No. 2 in D major

This was, I guess, a chilling-out but not very inspiring way of spending a damp wet morning in Buxton. A sequence of prose and music was presented but unfortunately the performers were not holding the mikes close enough to them so I was unable to disentangle why this was happening and what the prose pieces were (from the little I could hear they seemed to be animal fables of some kind – why they were being played with this music I have no idea, unless Louis XIV’s bedtimes involved both events happening at the same time). I seem to remember a rather sad or gloomy film about the composer Marais (but little seems to be known about his adult life, other than that he had 19 children!). The pieces followed each other pleasantly enough but without any being memorable. At least 5 minutes of this 50 minute recital must have been spent tuning, a consequence of the miserable weather we were told

Jean-Pierre Dalbéra from Paris, France and one more author – Portrait de Marin Marais (Musée de la musique, Paris) CC by 2

Anna Dennis Bellezza (Beauty); Hilary Cronin Piacere (Pleasure); Hilary Summers Disinganno (Disillusion); Jorge Navarro Colorado Tempo (Time). Christian Curnyn Conductor; Jacopo Spirei Director; Anna Bonomelli Designer

This is a work I’ve never heard of before, let alone heard. Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno (The Triumph of Time and Disillusion), is Handel’s first oratorio, a dramatic allegory, dating from 1707. As an oratorio, this would be a long evening – over 2 hours and 40 minutes of a static concert experience would be a bit dire. As a staged drama it seems much more absorbing – certainly my attention rarely flagged. Because of its oratorio form, as a drama it doesn’t have many long-drawn-out recitatives, and this in effect means value for money – you get far more ‘numbers’ for your 2 hours and 40 minutes than you would in an equivalent Handel opera.

The oratorio is a conversation between Beauty, Pleasure, Time, and Disillusion (various commentators advise there is no exact English equivalent of ‘disinganno’), where Beauty is over time persuaded to let go of her past and take a ‘heavenly path’ instead, repenting of her previous life and relinquishing Pleasure.  There are as you can see only 4 characters and by comparison with most of Handel’s operas the plot is blessedly uncomplicated.

The director’s clever idea is to frame the uncomplicated story within the setting of an almost contemporary family Christmas lunch – maybe early 1980s (with Morecambe and Wise Show in prospect), a time for tension and subterranean anxieties and annoyances to burst forth. The setting reflects this – there’s a family dining table, sofa and lampstands, and then, off to the right, a TV room where Dad sits while Mum makes the lunch – Dad of course does the carving. Beauty and Pleasure are unruly 20-something grown-up daughters with very different personalities, Time and Disillusion are Dad and Mum.  There is the Christmas tree, presents, turkey and Christmas pudding, with a gin and tonic for Mum. Pleasure produces some tablets at one point which causes everyone to freak out – Pleasure and Beauty dance to an aria while Mum does her own thing in the corner. As Time begins to win out in the argument with Beauty and Pleasure begins to withdraw to the sidelines, and things get more serious for Beauty, the scenery gradually changes from 1980’s family Christmas lunch to a funeral parlour, with Time and Disillusion dressed up as undertakers. A coffin is brought on and Beauty throws her jewellery, Christmas presents and wig into it – she puts on a hoody over her glittery ball dress but not before revealing her short grey hair. As the opera ends it seems as though having repented and removed her worldly goods, the shorn grey Beauty is regretting her actions, and sits alone in her armchair, while through the window the spectral Time, Disillusion and Pleasure peer through the glass. It’s a haunting and effective ending. All in all – though I’m glad the Christmas party idea gives way two thirds through the piece– it is a very effective and clever staging. The work would have to be cut radically to really be enjoyable in the concert hall.

The music, as ever with Handel, is always worth listening to – there are no really dull arias and several treasurable ones: the aria also used in Rinaldo, Lascia la spina, sung by Pleasure, and a most lovely final aria sung by Beauty are particularly memorable.  There is not very much in the way of exciting fast coloratura arias and quite a lot of slow ones, as perhaps befits the serious subject matter, but at least there are no hooting counter-tenors.

The singers were a uniformly strong group. Anna Dennis, not a name I’ve come across before, was outstanding as Beauty with a bright clear and unforced voice well able to deal with any coloratura moments that there were, and played the role as something of a dumb blond. Pleasure was dressed in Goth style and Hilary Cronin appropriately had a sweet agile voice for the role. Hilary Summers, wearing a large 70’s-80’s bow dress was a stunning deep contralto, while Jorge Navarro Colorado as Time was a steady and reliable light tenor. The period band were excellent

J S Bach Partita No. 6 in E minor, BWV 830; Beethoven Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp minor, Op. 27 No. 2 (“Moonlight”); D Scarlatti Three keyboard sonatas: sonata in D major Kk430, sonata in E major Kk380, sonata in C major Kk159; Brahms Variations and Fugue on a Theme by Handel, Op. 24

This is the first time I’ve seen Angela Hewitt play live. She spoke to the audience before the start of the concert – which is always a plus in my view – and briefly and lucidly gave her views on the essence of each piece. Her playing is muscular, tight and clear. The piano in the church seemed to be making a lot more noise and offering more depth than it did with Paul Lewis and this suited the works she was playing. Clearly  the programme was examining different forms of Baroque music and the Romantic period, I guess, though there were no obvious conclusions to be immediately drawn……

While the Scarlatti piece offered music that was concerned with ceremony and delicacy, polite pieces of music in an 18th century sense, if one can talk about such things (I really like Scarlatti -his sonatas are always tuneful and cheerful) the Brahms and Beethoven were to varying degrees unruly while the Bach piece (which I also love) is something else.

The Bach piece was introspective, particularly the fifth movement, which seems to be almost as though it is a sort of personal communion between Bach and his God, Hewitt said  – though there are some dance movements, the overall sombre tone reflects the overarching key of the pieces in E Minor.  Hewitt played the piece as far as I could tell very well indeed. It is extraordinary to reflect that there is less than 80 years between the creation of the Bach Partita and of the Moonlight sonata – they seem to come from utterly different sound worlds. Though the first movement of the Moonlight sonata is I guess introspective as well, it is so in a way that somehow it’s about Beethoven, his state of mind, his feelings, without any of that austere reaching-out for something beyond the self that I find so satisfying in Bach. The third movement  of the Beethoven puts him at the heart of emerging Romantic sensibilities in music  – Hewitt played, in particular, this superbly.

The Brahms piece I had not heard before and I am afraid I had problems with it – to me, the best variations are the ones with memorable tunes as opening themes; think Goldberg, or Britten/Purcell, Elgar/Enigma and Brahms himself/St Anthony’s Chorale. Rachmaninov/Paganini works in the same mode, and, by the same token, I’ve never really been able to get excited by Beethoven/Diabelli. The variations with great opening themes are able to take you on a journey which leads back to the return of the original theme eventually with a sense of completion or triumph. If the theme is nondescript – as the Handel one Brahms uses is –  you don’t really care about how or whether it comes back. The Brahms piece may have all sorts of merits – the skill in formulating the variations, the expertise in moving so far away from the sound world of the original theme, the excitement in the way it exploits the capability of the piano – and Angela Hewitt as far as I could tell played it extremely well, but much of it sounded like note-spinning for the sake of it. Sorry to be so dismissive – the fault is mine, I am sure……

Schubert: Piano Sonatas D958, 959, 960

This is the first time I have sat through a live programme of Schubert’s last 3 sonatas. It is quite an exhausting though also a fascinating and rewarding experience…..I felt drained by the end. Paul Lewis seemed as fresh at the end of the concert as at the beginning. He is rather a sphinx-like figure on stage – perhaps matter of fact in the way he shows no particular facial response to the audience as he comes on stage or in response to applause, but seemingly completely absorbed in the world of the composer he is interpreting. The most memorable D960 I’ve heard hitherto live was by Alfred Brendel during his farewell UK tour in something like 2012. The other two I’m not sure I’ve ever heard live before.

Another of Paul Lewis’ many gifts, following on from the previous day, is to make the piano ‘sing’ – a way of making the notes on this percussive instrument slide into one another as a human voice would.  And a further sign of his artistry is the ability to offer a wide range of dynamics – he can keep back the true fff sounds to the most climactic parts of each work. Sometimes the piano falls back to a whisper – but not affectedly. These features were abundantly present in these performances.

The first half of the concert in particular was a marathon – 1 hour, 10 minutes. I found the performances of the first two sonatas slightly more engaging, within a frame of very high standards indeed, than D960. I think this is to do more with the quality of my listening than the playing, but perhaps it was the case that at times D960 felt marginally too fast, particularly the third movement, which also sounded fractionally too heavy, , and the second theme of the finale, which I have always heard as consolatory but which here felt slightly edgy.

Highlights for me were:

• the finale of D958 – a mad tarantella-like piece, perhaps more like a Dance of Death than anything else, and with, like the finale of Schubert’s 9th symphony, around the corner a Don Giovanni/Commendatore knocking on the door. Lewis’ playing here was extraordinarily deft and delicate
• the remarkable central section of the slow movement of D959, harmonies and melody suddenly caught up in a whirlwind, notes flung around without connection in a vortex
• the lovely finale of D959 – I love the bit near the end where the main theme gets broken up (almost as if the composer is too weary and frail to carry on) butt then manages to regroup and carries on to the end; it’s a supremely moving moment
• the sombre slow movement of D960, taken at just the right speed by Lewis (I have heard it too slow and portentous -the recording I have of Mitsuko Uchida’s performance is a bit like that)

This will definitely be one of the concerts on my long list for the top ten performances of the year

Schubert: Piano Sonata No. 4 in A minor, D537; Piano Sonata No. 9 in B, D575[ Piano Sonata No. 18 in G, D894

5 July was of course the day after the General Election polling day and as I had been at the local count all night and didn’t get to bed till 6am I was not best prepared for this concert. The first two sonatas aren’t ones I know and I confess I dropped off at one or two points during them. I once again experienced the acoustics of the church as being harsh and clangourous, and not very flattering to Lewis’ playing. My ears pricked up in the middle movement of D537, which has exactly the same melody as the finale of D959, played at a slower pace. ! I enjoyed the clarity, the attack and precision of Lewis’ playing, as well as the impression he gives of thinking through each note afresh, through subtle changes of shading. More than that I can’t really remember 18 hours later, though I was aware of a general Beethovenian tinge to these sonatas (e.g. the 4th movement of D575).

Fortified by time in the churchyard during the interval and a strong coffee, D894 was a very different experience. Like the last three sonatas it feels death-haunted and melancholy – when the sun shines, as in the last movement, you sense the gathering clouds. Paul Lewis played this superbly – I was particularly struck by the measured pace in the first movement and the different weighting given to the repetitions of the opening theme. He also generously played the first movement repeat. The second movement was riveting, with its contrasts of wistful and passionate responses to oncoming death and to the extinction of such potential unfulfilled. The last two movements’ highlights were the peaceful trio of the third movement and a final movement where nothing was nonchalant but full of aching regret. I thought this was as gripping a rendition as the Brendel performance I heard some 17 years ago at the Bridgewater Hall – and of course Lewis is a pupil of Brendel’s.

Norwegian Chamber Orchestra, Pekka Kuusisto director, violin

This was described on the South Bank website as ‘showcasing the
works of Shostakovich, DSCH is a musical experience fusing theatre, lighting
and visual elements to challenge the traditional concert form’.  Hmmm, I thought, but having heard and enjoyed broadcasts of some of Kuusisto ‘s Proms performances over the last few years I thought I’d go along to this…..

The performance was built around some if not all of the following works

Excerpt from Moderato from Sonata for viola & piano, Op.147

Romance from The Gadfly

Polka (Allegretto) from 3 Fantastic Dances, Op.5

Largo from String Quartet No.8 in C minor, Op.110

Waltz from 5 Pieces for 2 violins & piano

Allegretto from String Quartet No.7 inF sharp minor, Op.108

Allegretto from Cello Concerto No.2, Op.1 26

Excerpt from Allegretto from Sonata for viola & piano, Op.147

Intermezzo (Lento) from Piano Quintet in G minor, Op.57

Polka from 2 Pieces for string quartet

Waltz 2 from Suite No.2 for jazz orchestra

Excerpt from Allegretto from Cello Concerto No.1, Op.107

Andante from Piano Concerto No.2, Op.102

Excerpt from Adagio – Allegro non troppo from Symphony No.8 in C minor, Op.65

Excerpts from Andante & Allegretto from Piano Trio No.2 in E minor, Op.67″

Scherzo from 2 Pieces for string octet, Op.11

Romance from Dance of the dolls for piano

Chamber Symphony in C minor, Op.1 10a arr. Barshai from String Quartet No.8

Excerpt from Sonata for viola & piano, Op 147

The format was intriguing – one and a half hours (without interval)
of Shostakovich as a quasi- theatrical experience. The QEH concert platform
became a stage with various screens and drapes on which images were projected
consonant with the music being played. These were not as you might have
expected images of Stalinist Terror – marching troops, prisoners, the Lubyanka
– but natural phenomena: (water, trees waving in the wind, a bleak looking
moon) and abstract shapes – criss-cross grids, a web. There was one image that
could have been a bombed-out cityscape, but it had been made so fuzzy it looked
like a series of boxes. So certainly not Shostakovich and his times….the
orchestra was costumed and lit, moving eerily in and out of  the darkness in dress that looked partly Slavonic, partly clown-like. There was also an effective use of lighting to
create mysterious shadows. At points large images of the players marched
towards us on the screen. The overall impact was to emphasise the personal
trauma, the deep grief, in this music rather than anything that suggested the
political context. The orchestra was a fine band as well as being an intrinsic part
of the stage experience (occasionally with exaggerated coordinated movements).
Most of the music was in some way or other rearranged (string quartet extracts
often had 8-10 players). The most substantial piece, the Barshai arrangement of
parts of the 8th string quartet, was thrillingly played, particularly the
klezmer tune; as was the first 5 minutes of the 8th Symphony. Occasionally an
accordion player was introduced into the mix – eg I think covering the piano
part (or aspects of it) in the slow movement of the second piano concerto.The hall was packed, with, in term of age anyway, a diverse audience, including many primary age children. There were whoops and cheers at the end, a very positive audience response.I did wonder a bit what the point of the concert was. Clearly if you’re familiar with Shostakovich’ s music, you’ll be going straight to listen to a string quartet rather than the edited dramatised version presented here. If you’re not at all familiar with the music, would this lead you to want to explore Shostakovich’s music in more depth? Possibly – or you might just feel you had watched a great show, appreciated it and you’ll then move on to the next one.  So I am not sure this is the future of classic music. However the show is undoubtedly keeping a group of first-rate performers in paid employment, to much public satisfaction, and that must be a good thing!

Conductor Alexander Soddy; Fiordiligi, Golda Schultzr; Dorabella, Samantha Hankey; Ferrando, Daniel Behle; Guglielmo, Andrè Schuen; Don Alfonso, Gerald Finley; Despina, Jennifer France.  Director, Jan Philipp Gloger; Revival Director, Oliver Platt; Set Designer, Ben Baur; Costume Designer, Karin Jud, Lighting Designer, Bernd Purkrabek

I was not planning to go to this but then decided to campaign in Brighton for the Green Party for the upcoming elections on Saturday 29th. As I was seeing family the next day and staying overnight in London, I bought a £20 standing ticket for this performance. And having looked at the cast, I thought it rather a distinguished one, with three well known female singers, Gerald Finley no less as Don Alfonso, and conducted by Alexander Soddy, a young (in conducting terms – early 40’s)  Brit who’s spent his career to date in the old-fashioned way, building up experience with the smaller regional opera houses and orchestras in Germany, and of whom I have read good things (I see he is also conducting Fidelio at ROHCG in the Autumn).

I arrived at the theatre really exhausted after 6 hours of door knocking in Brighton and was feeling a bit concerned about standing for 3 hours, particularly when I’d not eaten that much – I was therefore extremely grateful to the lady who offered me a seat in the stalls circle (one member of her family group had cancelled)!

I saw this production in July 2022 and reviewed it then in this blog. Looking back I see I was more incensed by the eccentricities and waywardness of the production in 2022 than I was this time round. Perhaps it was where I was sitting yesterday – in the Stalls Circle very near the stage, rather than the Amphitheatre, so very much nearer the singers, and I was able to be gripped by the emotions, the facial expressions and movement of the two couples much more closely. Despite all the (for the most part needless) complexity, the basic story remains clear – two couples pushed into swapping partners by a cynical old man and, when the mists clear and the plot is revealed both partners feel uncomfortable with their original lovers, and the opera ends in some mystery and darkness. This time round, I was much more aware that in this production, the two women know from very near the first appearance of their men in disguise who these two are. I was also more aware they know that their male partners have swapped them as lovers. I should also say that, whatever the doubts about what they intend, the appearance of several of the sets are stunning- the tree with the serpent, the 18th century tapestry, the bar, the Brief Encounter rail station. In addition, though liberties I think have been taken, the translation of the text is clear, wry and made people laugh.

 Maybe I was more positive about the production because musically this was better than the 2022 performance. Things though didn’t get off to a very good start – Alexander Soddy set a ridiculously fast pace for the overture, as a result of which the timpani fell to pieces in the overture’s closing bars. After that though, things improved. Though without the gracious utterly captivating bounce that I remember when I heard Karl Bohm conduct the work at ROHCG 45 years ago, Soddy let the music expand once the singers appeared on stage, and tight rhythms supported the singers rather than sounding just hard driven. It was still fast, but crispness is sometimes better than sogginess…..

The female singers and Don Alfonso were the best elements among the singers. Golda Schultz has a lovely warm voice – she can, though, also hit the high notes and the vertiginous leaps of ‘Come scoglio’ with ease. Her predominantly slow quiet ‘Per Pieta’ in the second Act was beautifully done. She handled the coloratura well and also the deep notes given to the role didn’t cause any problems for her.  She’s not a stage natural but entered fully and energetically in what she was asked to do. Samantha Hankey doesn’t really have the big arias Fiordiligi has to show off in, but acted excellently and her voice was secure and flexible. Jennifer France was remarkably good as Despina – one of the best I’ve seen. She could ping out the top notes, had a great sense of comic timing, exuded manic energy racing around the stage and clearly relished the silly voices she puts on for Dr Mesmer and the Notary. Gerald Finley was another top-class performer. Some Don Alfonso’s quickly go over the top in this role and ham it up, but Finley remained downbeat but quietly malevolent under the guise of wisdom – a truly Satanic presence, but beautifully sung; his contribution to ‘Soave sia il vento’ was outstanding . The two male lovers were less memorable. Guglielmo had a very good voice and a strong stage presence but maybe didn’t make enough of the musical possibilities of the role. I was a bit put off Ferrando by his head notes which went a little too far into falsetto for my comfort.

All in all, the production didn’t affect the reception of the stunning music and the singing, and I really enjoyed the evening – as did the rest of the audience, who whooped and cheered at the end.