Shakespeare / Mendelssohn: 
                        A Midsummer Night’s Dream. 
                        Soloists, City of London Sinfonia, Royal Shakespeare Company, 
                        City of London Sinfonia Voices, Douglas Boyd, conductor, 
                        Jonathan Best, director. St. David’s Hall, Cardiff, 
                        25.3.2006 (G Pu) 
                      
                        
                        Bottom: Desmond Barrit
                        Hermia: Sian Brooke
                        Quince: Alan David
                        Lysander/Flute: Daniel Hawksford
                        Puck: Ian Hughes
                        Titania/Hippolyta: Diana Kent
                        Egeus/Straveling: David Killick
                        Demetrius/Snug: William Mannering
                        Helena: Rachel Pickup
                        Oberon/Theseus: Martin Turner
                        
                        Modern styles of theatrical production are, to put it 
                        mildly, very different from those prevailing in Mendelssohn’s 
                        day. We are never likely to see again the kind of production 
                        of A Midsummer Night’s Dream for which Mendelssohn’s 
                        incidental music was originally written. As a result the 
                        music has been almost entirely divorced from the play; 
                        we hear extracts from it as a suite in the concert hall 
                        or on our CD players. At best, we dutifully read the programme 
                        notes telling us where in the text each piece was played.
                        
                        What a joy – and what a revelation – then, 
                        to hear the music placed fully back in the context of 
                        the play’s words and action and to find that even 
                        in a ‘modern’ production the music can make 
                        a major contribution. What this production does is place 
                        the forces of the London Sinfonia to the rear of the stage, 
                        leaving the front of the stage for the furniture of a 
                        well-provided late nineteenth century or Edwardian drawing 
                        room – sofas, pot plants, bowls of fruit and so 
                        on. This is the ‘set’ on which a group act 
                        out – as if by way of an evening’s domestic 
                        entertainment – Shakespeare’s play (or, at 
                        any rate, an intelligently abridged version of it!). The 
                        furnishings of their drawing room include an early gramophone 
                        – the imagined source of the music which accompanies 
                        their performance.
                        
                        Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream 
                        Overture was written when he was a mere seventeen 
                        and was not designed for theatrical use; rather it was 
                        an imaginative ‘translation’ into music of 
                        the composer’s response to the play. With its four 
                        themes for the four groups of characters (the fairies, 
                        Theseus and Hippolyta, the young lovers and the rude mechanicals), 
                        its movement from, and back to, the four sustained woodwind 
                        chords which represent the supernatural realm inhabited 
                        by Oberon, the Overture has, in miniature, both the symmetry 
                        of Shakespeare’s play and its wild fancifulness. 
                        The London Sinfonia, conducted by Douglas Boyd, brought 
                        out by turns the boisterousness (as in the falling ninth 
                        which seems to enact Bottom’s donkeyfied voice), 
                        the delicate vivacity (as in the rapid staccato passages 
                        for violins, preparation for the later fairy dances) and 
                        the grandeur (as in the hunting horns and echoes recreated 
                        by the dialogue of trumpets and woodwinds) of Mendelssohn’s 
                        music.
                        
                        With fitting symmetry, it was another seventeen years 
                        later that Mendelssohn was commissioned to write incidental 
                        music for a production of the play. He returned to his 
                        Overture for materials, reworking these and integrating 
                        them with new inventions so seamlessly, that the innocent 
                        hearer would assume all parts of the score to have been 
                        composed at the same time. In this production we heard 
                        not only the familiar orchestral movements such as the 
                        lovely Nocturne, played while the young lovers 
                        sleep, after Puck’s assurance that all shall be 
                        well”. Mendelssohn’s music – with its 
                        serene horn solo followed by troubled yet unthreatening 
                        passages - perfectly expresses the dramatic situation 
                        and, when played as well as it was here, articulates with 
                        great tact the emotional and psychological transformations 
                        the characters undergo in their magically induced sleep. 
                        Elsewhere, music one might have thought over-familiar 
                        – the Wedding March most obviously – 
                        emerged, in context, with a new dignity and joy. But as 
                        well as these set-pieces, we also heard passages in which 
                        briefer fragments are interjected as points of punctuation 
                        into the action, or where Mendelssohn’s music gives 
                        additional resonance to the imagery of Shakespeare’s 
                        words. This was strikingly effective in the opening of 
                        Act II, not least in the encounter between Oberon and 
                        Titania. The exquisite setting of ‘You Spotted Snakes’ 
                        was gracefully performed, especially by the soloists Susan 
                        Gilmour Bailey and Elizabeth Weisberg.
                        
                        The cast from the RSC acquitted themselves very well; 
                        Desmond Barrit’s interpretation of Bottom came close 
                        to stealing the show, but there was no weak link in the 
                        company as a whole.
                        
                        The City of London Sinfonia seemed to exude a degree of 
                        love and commitment in the playing of this score. Certainly 
                        they made one realise afresh how perfectly judged the 
                        music is, its use of orchestral colour never without a 
                        clear theatrical purpose. This is functional music and 
                        when, as here, it was allowed to fulfil its function, 
                        its full beauty and significance were made apparent. Throughout, 
                        one was aware of the intelligent aptness of Mendelssohn’s 
                        writing, of its refusal to be merely self-indulgent or 
                        simple decoration. At the end of the play, Mendelssohn’s 
                        music gave additional power and universality to the verbal 
                        benedictions of Oberon and Puck, creating a valedictory 
                        blessing for both newly married couples and departing 
                        audience. In the return to the woodwind chords which had 
                        opened the evening the process of comic restoration was 
                        made complete – in words and music alike.
                      
                        
                        
                        Glyn Pursglove