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Strauss, Der Rosenkavalier: Soloists, chorus and orchestra of the English National Opera. Conductor: Edward Gardner. The London Coliseum, 22.5.2008. (JPr)


Richard Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier is a loose adaptation of Les amours du chevalier de Faublas by Louvet and Couvrai and a Molière comedy Monsieur de Pourceaugnac. The libretto is by Hugo von Hofmannsthal and it was first performed in 1911. Most will be aware how the opera concerns the changing romantic attachments of the four principal characters, the Feldmarschallin (Marie Thérèse, a noblewoman who although only 32 is already concerned her best years are behind her), Octavian (a young lad barely passed 17), Baron Ochs von Lerchenau (the cousin of the Marschallin) and then Sophie von Faninal who is 15 but promised in marriage to Ochs. The opera begins with the Marschallin and Octavian who,  having spent the night together, are soon to be disturbed by Baron Ochs’s arrival; he has come to seek the Marschallin's assistance to help him court Sophie and so gain access to her father's wealth.  With the Marschallin's back turned, Ochs makes a pass at her chambermaid  ‘Mariandel’ (actually Octavian in disguise). Octavian escapes without being discovered and in his absence is appointed the ‘Rosenkavalier’ who will take a silver rose from the Baron and present it to Sophie. However when Octavian meets Sophie he falls in love with her, and tries to help get her out of her impending marriage to Ochs. After some farcical contrivances,  Sophie and Octavian are united, Ochs is embarrassed and the Marschallin, who always knew  that Octavian would abandon her for a younger woman, is left alone.

Der Rosenkavalier is originally set in Vienna of the 1740s on the cusp of the French Revolution. It was first performed in 1911 with WWI only a few years away,  when for Vienna life was still very much fin de siècle. There were soon to be radical changes to this cultural and social order, with its seeming coalescence of opulence and apparent decadence, throughout Europe in the early decades of the twentieth century. The end was nigh for all those involved.

There is much here for an opera director to work with particularly given the length of the opera at nearly four hours. The last English National Opera production in 1994 by Jonathan Miller updated the action to 1911 when the opera had its première and there was a feeling to it that the times were undoubtedly changing. It was beautifully designed and well-nuanced and has not received many revivals seemingly having  been jettisoned for a third-hand version only five years younger from Scottish Opera, via Opera North. I suppose this was because the production was by David McVicar, opera’s current ‘hot property’ whose recent Salome for Covent Garden was cutting-edge in more ways than that bleeding head. It was updated to between the two world-wars, had moving sets and video and was awarded the privilege of a profile by ‘The South Bank Show’.

Here,  Der Rosenkavalier rehearsed by David McVicar and not just a revival director,could not have been more cosy and traditional. When I spoke recently with Sir John Tomlinson (Baron Ochs) he was concerned with only having four weeks rehearsal instead of six,  but the production was so static that I wondered what they did during all that time. It was not all ‘doom and gloom’ though because I gloried in the ‘company feel’ of the evening. The ENO has had its troubles and is clearly on the up now, and even with my reservations about it  this evening  seemed very much like one of the ‘old days’ at the London Coliseum. If  a longish rehearsal period helped in this, then that might have been worth the money.

The adulterous love-making clearly heard in the Prelude gave way to the curtain rising to find the Marschallin virtually naked apart from a sheet,  and her lanky  long-haired lover cavorting on the bed. Janice Watson, who sang the Marschallin at the last revival of the Miller production in 2003, had both the haughtiness of a princess and the infatuation of the ‘older woman’ and employed her well-supported soprano often very poignantly such as when she sang ‘I’ve forced him to leave without a single kiss’ ; or used her occasionally thin but flexible top delicately for ‘Within lies the silver rose’. Sarah Connolly, who had previously sung Octavian in this David McVicar staging for Scottish Opera in 2006, had the angular features and confident stride for a man, if not the looks of a 17-year-old. Later in Act III as Mariandel her vernacular ‘Bloomin’ heck, who’s it for?’ when supposedly seeing the bed for the first time was memorable. Throughout she also sang well with suitably rounded tone but at first neither of the singers made sufficient use of the words and the first recognisable English words (from Alfred Kalisch’s translation) were heard only when  John Tomlinson made his first entry, costumed it seemed to me  more like a buccaneer at first than a rural aristocrat. Diction for all concerned thankfully improved as the opera went on,  finally making the surtitles superfluous.

Sir John bestrode the whole evening like the opera colossus he is. Despite our conversation about how he and the director worked I cannot imagine that McVicar told him much more than were he was expected to stand or sit and sing. John Tomlinson was … well John Tomlinson … and that is often no bad thing. He is an incomparable actor, the character is clearly Falstaffian, the entire world is his or so he believes right up until his final humiliation. The voice was clearly tired, he has had a busy time recently, but after a tricky Act I he was his usually stentorian and ebullient self and his performance gave much pleasure.

In McVicar’s own set designs (assisted by Michael Vale) we were firmly in Hapsburg Vienna of the late eighteen century. There was a basic single set with a few columns stage-left, six chandeliers, wall-lights, some drapes and a row of ‘candles’ along the footlights. At the end of the four hours this same picture had become a little wearing on the eyes. In Act I it had a bed (of course) to distinguish it as the Marschallin’s bedroom. There were a few chairs and a long dining table with food and candelabras to depict a ‘reception hall’ in Act II and a small table, chairs, and screened-off bed was the only difference to show the inn’s private room in the final act. The basic set showed a sort of neglect and distress but this was not reflected in the often opulent costumes (by Tanya McCallin) and for the presentation of the silver rose in Act II there were more shining breastplates on show than in any staging of Lohengrin.

David McVicar had obviously been inspired by the French farces of Molière, the English restoration comedies of the late seventeenth century and Hogarth’s depiction of ‘modern moral subjects’ of the same vintage. There is much chasing of the female servants by Ochs’s retinue but otherwise mostly everyone stands around and watches the principals. There are some excellent cameos including Alfie Boe bringing some vocal style to his brief appearance as the Italian singer and former ENO stalwart Stuart Kale and Madeleine Shaw are wonderfully conniving as the moustachioed Valzacchi and his niece, Annina. Harry Ward is Ochs’s leering bastard son Leopold whose wits are dimmed, and another well-loved singer, Janice Cairns, makes a welcome return to the Coliseum after too many years away as Sophie’s gloriously dotty duenna. Andrew Shore was luxury casting as Herr von Faninal looking to make a good match for his daughter.

Sarah Tynan, a former ENO Young Singer, was the star of the evening for me as a firmly projected Sophie. Hers was a pure Mozartian sound, with restrained passion, eloquently nuanced, and with a quirky feistiness. Her ‘How Heavenly’ at the scent of the rose Octavian present to her was ‘heavenly’ indeed!

Edward Gardner was not indulgent enough towards some of Strauss’s luxuriant melodies whilst also making Act I with its longueurs drag a bit but it was elegantly played by an impressive ENO orchestra, was more than perfectly adequate and his reading will undoubtedly develop during the run of performances. ENO are undoubtedly fighting back from their recent years of turmoil and not everything can be remedied over night. There is some way to go yet but it looks like being an interesting journey. If it does approach the heights of old,  perhaps it might be remembered that it was the incandescent trio at the end of Act III before Sophie and Octavian’s lingering kiss and their final ecstatic duet that led the way here and was a pivotal moment. Sophie is clearly now a younger version of the Marschallin,  but there was still time for this sublimity to be undermined by directorial heavy-handedness when to the scuttling music of the Marschallin’s little page a fully grown adult retrieves Sophie’s handkerchief and takes a bow.

Jim Pritchard

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