The English National Opera presented 
          Part I of Berlioz’s The Trojans in February February, 
          and I was not impressed. Part II, which opened on 8th May, does a marginally 
          better job – but not much. The production, still by Richard Jones, isn’t 
          crippled by Stewart Laing’s feckless designs and costumes; instead, 
          the designer’s duty passes to John MacFarlane, who reveals himself to 
          have a slightly less wayward imagination – though still not a very active 
          one. 
        
        The trouble is, as before, that 
          the production does nothing to look inside the music, to promote it, 
          to pick on aspects of the score and illuminate them – any amount of 
          radicality can be tolerated if it does that; indeed, it’s downright 
          exhilarating when it happens. But there’s not much exhilaration to be 
          had in here. Most of the stage business seems irrelevant. For the ‘Royal 
          Hunt and Storm’, for example, the principals spread across the stage 
          and leap up and down, which just looks daft. The approach of the storm 
          is indicated by three screens dropped in front of the stage, each bearing 
          a large painting of a whirlwind and accompanied by some peremptory flashes 
          of the lights – is that the best they can do in these high-tech days? 
          Philippe Giraudeau’s choreography seems to involve pointless gesture 
          more than anything else. 
        
        What this production seems to 
          have forgotten is Berlioz’s essential Classicality. For all that he 
          is often described as the Romantic composer par excellence, he 
          was a direct descendant of Gluck and Spontini (two composers he admired 
          deeply): his flashes of Romantic ardour are the more effective because 
          they occur in a framework of Classical restraint. The foreground Romanticism, 
          to put it in Kellerian terms, requires that the background be understood 
          almost as a form of ritual. When the Trojans, their differences of rank 
          undistinguishable, arrive in sneakers and T-shirts to be greeted by 
          Dido in the black tunic of a hospital matron, the loss of formality 
          detracts directly from the impact of the opera as a whole – the surging 
          emotions Berlioz releases gain much of their strength from the disciplined 
          world from which they emerge. Modern dress and bold, colourful sets 
          vitiate that productive duality.
        
        
        Sandwiched between Sir Colin Davis’ 
          recording for LSO Live and his forthcoming Proms performance, Paul Daniel 
          is bound to find himself in direct comparison with by the pre-eminent 
          Berliozian of the day, and he’s naturally going to be found wanting. 
          Davis can spring the rhythms in a way that keeps the entire thing pointing 
          forward, that gives the score a tensile strength. Daniel is clear, workmanlike, 
          unfussy – he doesn’t make the music his own, as Davis does, but he doesn’t 
          get in its way, either, and the orchestral textures were clear and crisp; 
          Daniel seemed to have paid especial attention to the woodwind, whose 
          sparkling timbres danced through all three hours.
        
          The singing honours were mixed. Susan Parry was a stern Dido, in voice 
          as well as manner – the production gave her little chance to develop 
          much personality in the role. And John Dazsak’s Aeneas was adequate 
          rather than distinguished: his voice takes on a little hardness when 
          it’s under pressure. Their love duet, though, one of the great moments 
          in all music, went straight to the heart; all criticism fell away at 
          that moment. Anne Marie Gibbons, deputising on the opening night for 
          the indisposed Anna Burford, brought warmth and feeling to the role 
          of Anna, Dido’s sister, and Victoria Simmonds was a bold and forthright 
          Ascanius, credibly masculine in her travesty role. The embattled 
          ENO chorus again demonstrated that it is the company’s chief glory. 
          
        
        A mixed bag, then, which is already 
          an improvement on Part I. It’s marvellous to hear Berlioz’s glorious 
          music live, of course, but one shouldn’t find in an opera house that 
          one has to close one’s eyes to protect the music from the visual shenanigans 
          on stage. 
        
        Martin Anderson
        Further performances on 14, 16, 23, 29 and 
          31 May, and 5 and 7 June. Details at www.eno.org. 
          
        
        
         
        Credits: ENO New Production - The Trojans 
          Part II: The Trojans at Carthage
          Press Night  Thursday 8 May 2003
          Photographer: Clive Barda
          principals:
          Back row, from left to right  John Daszak as Aeneas, Susan Parry 
          as Dido,
          Anne Marie Gibbons as Anna, Colin Lee as Iopas.
          Front row, from left to right  Victoria Simmonds as Ascanius, Iain 
          Paterson
          as Pantheus, Clive Bayley as Narbal.
         
         
         Susan Parry as Dido