Just two performances at the Coliseum for this new 'semi-staged concert performance' of Bartók's only opera. A masterpiece in miniature - two main characters, their entwined fates settled in a mere hour - its enigmatic spell both terrifies and enthrals. A horror story on the surface with layers of murky psychodrama underneath: whatever one's interpretation, the sustained tension - dramatic and musical - both enthrals and terrifies.
The plot is ruthlessly simple. Bluebeard brings his bride Judith to his castle, which is shrouded in darkness. Judith wants to open the seven locked doors in the hall, and let the daylight in. Despite Bluebeard's protests, Judith steadily overwhelms his reluctance but one by one, the doors reveal a series of surreal horrors: torture chamber, arsenal, treasury, garden - all tainted with bloodstains. Even the vista of Bluebeard's land, behind the fifth door, is flooded with crimson shadows.
During these revelations, Judith both re-asserts her love for Bluebeard, but presses on regardless. Bluebeard is desperate to stop her by this point - the sixth door exposes a lake of tears - but when she gives explicit voice to the rumours that hew new husband murdered his former wives, Bluebeard admits defeat. Behind the final door, his living, yet eternally trapped, wives rule over his morning, noon and dusk: Judith must now join them to preside over his night.
The spoken prologue - a memorable performance from Leo Bill, who remains a silent presence and prop-provider throughout - invites us to consider whether the action is happening in the real world or in our minds. Director Joe Hill-Gibbins's and designer Rosanna Vize's ingenious production (the description 'semi-staging' actually does it a dis-service) confidently leans into this. Once the translated prologue is over, the opera is sung in the original Hungarian - a very unusual step for ENO, which performs in English pretty much 99% of the time. (Other exceptions have been Glass operas, for example, using rarer tongues like Sanskrit.) Removing that taken-for-granted immediacy enhances the dream/nightmare feel - and the subtitles are there for when instant linguistic gratification is required.
We can see very little in the darkness; there are certainly no discernible doors or castle walls. Instead, a long, stylised white light-box, doubling as a table, illuminates the characters from below. As each door is opened, the Prologue emerges from the gloom stage rear, and brings some of the room's contents to the table. One memorable set piece near the start is when Bluebeard and the Prologue pour seemingly endless bottles of red wine into two glasses, overfilling them almost immediately and creating a widening pool of gore across the surface. Judith might think - or pretend - that she is illuminating her new home: but each time more props arrive, they cover more of the light-box, making our perception of the action, and her situation, progressively darker.
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It's tempting to think that, on the day of the first performance, cast and crew might have felt they'd signed up for an Exorcist-style cursed production that reflected its narrative horrors backstage. The mezzo Allison Cook, our Judith, had fallen ill.
For anyone unfamiliar with how opera tends to handle these last-minute disasters: sometimes a singer with no voice - as long as they're 'up and about' enough - will still 'walk' the role, while their cover sings the part from the side of the stage. On this occasion, that wasn't an option.
The solution must have been one of those creative decisions that I imagine sometimes only arrive in times of immense pressure, when you can almost picture the lightbulb flickering into life above someone's head…
Jennifer Johnston as Judith
Making, I was amazed to learn, her ENO debut, Jennifer Johnston stepped in at virtually zero notice to sing Judith. However, rather than sideline her presence, the decision was taken to place her at the illuminated table in all our sight lines, dressed in bridal off-white, complete with score and music stand. This was the first masterstroke, as Johnston - experienced in the role - was able with even minimal preparation to put heart and soul into a magnificent performance, conveying every nuance of Judith's breakneck emotional journey.
An equally inspired decision was to still have someone walk the role of Judith as well: staff director Crispin Lord. I want to make it clear how intelligently and sensitively this was handled. From our seats, Lord appeared slight, and wore a vest and long white skirt in the same off-white bridal shade, but there was no attempt to disguise or distract from his masculinity, or hijack any kind of drag aesthetic. Clearly an expert in this kind of movement/dance, Lord gave us a 'physical' Judith demonstrating both grace and determination.
How much time the performers had to confer before curtain-up, I have no idea: I almost don't want to know. But what we saw seemed so precise. Johnston and Lord seemed mutually inspired by each other's adrenaline and energy. Crucially, Lord did not attempt to mime the role, so he took nothing away from Johnston's delivery of the text. There were times when Lord would 'circle' or pass close to Johnston as if to emphasise they were two manifestations of the same person: she the 'mind' and he the 'body'.
Jennifer Johnston (Judith), Crispin Lord (Judith) and John Relyea (Bluebeard)
This rapport also meant that the production inevitably took a homoerotic element during intimate moments between Lord and John Relyea's harrowing, desperately fine interpretation of Bluebeard. While it can't have been in the original gameplan, both actors embraced this extra dimension as though it had always been part of the script. From our audience's perspective, there was no visual disconnect. On the contrary, it enriched the three-dimensional portrayal of Judith, as if the stereotyped 'male' side of her personality - seducer, aggressor - had attained corporeal form. Masculinity that will, literally, prove toxic.
(I would love to have been able to return for the second night, when Allison Cook had recovered and was able to give her own, lauded performance as Judith. The contrast would have been fascinating.)
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The production saved its final surprise for very near the end. The libretto, taken literally, has Bluebeard reveal three imprisoned wives, with Judith about to become the fourth. But in a way, it's the fourth wall that was broken here.
As the seventh door was 'opened', more of the backstage area was revealed and some 15 or so wives appeared. Their faces were veiled to conceal their identities, and they remained hidden, and silent. I hadn't studied my programme sheet beforehand (where, if one looked carefully, this 'spoiler' was revealed), but I instantly thought - 'those are the women of the Chorus'. The only way I can explain this instinct now, is that the choristers managed - as they always have done - to move in a characteristic way where certain of them emerged as individuals (Bluebeard still gestured towards three key 'brides') yet their presence and pacing suggested their 'hive mind' ability to act and react as a near-telepathic group. This extra level of atmosphere they generated would not have been possible with 'imported' actors or dancers.
I could not have been more pleased when they removed the veils for the curtain call, and proved me right - which brings me onto a melancholy, closing reflection. The concept of multiple wives, suggesting that the horrific cycle of Bluebeard's abuse goes back further than the last three wives, and is likely to continue, was a perfect, icy chill of an ending that underpins the murky 'psychosis' evoked by the production.
The women of the ENO Chorus with John Relyea (Bluebeard)
But to me, it gestured or commented beyond the production, too. In a performance where they weren't strictly needed, the creative team found a role for the Chorus women, acknowledging what they have to offer even when they're not singing, and taking advantage of their ability to enhance any show where the appear. It made me think how important it is to keep these people visible, to point anyone who will look and listen towards their talent and artistry.
As I type this Easter weekend, the curtain has come down on not only ENO's 2023/24 season, but its existence as a permanent performing company. You may remember that ENO's management - who, if information coming to light is true, seem to have survived ENO's cost-cutting and restructure virtually unscathed - made almost all of the Chorus, Orchestra and music staff redundant mid-performance a short while ago. Members of the ensemble are now due for re-hire on part-time contracts that cover only seven months of the year. (And the ENO forces might be my 'favourite band', but you should also point your attention towards the latest news about cuts at Welsh National Opera.)
Wherever the artists you admire perform, support them, amplify them; try to make sure as many people as possible hear their voice, not just their voices. As audiences, we have to play our part in ensuring these musicians don't fade away into the backstage darkness.
AA
(All performance photos are by Nirah Sanghani, from the ENO website production gallery.)
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