Brook’s original adaptation uses a small orchestra. Pop-Up Opera’s solo piano is an obvious budget choice but there is no way it can make up for the richly expressive textures of the music. One instrument, for example a flute, would add colour and spirit to the evening, especially during the vocal breaks when the piano fails to take the emotional reins. Musical director, Berrak Dyer does an excellent job of the transcription, but castanets and distant bugles canât easily be produced by the same instrument.
The portable element of the set is clearly a ‘must’ for the company, who are constantly changing venues, but it demands great resourcefulness of Director John Wilkie. The choice of a draughty but aesthetically pleasing church in Peckham is perfect in principle, but aside from acoustically itâs not really used. The soaring and plummeting emotions are coaxed out on a tiny stage, in front of a small projector screen which is shared by Harry Percivalâs English captions, looped scenes from the Spanish civil war and creative use of shadow puppetry. Lighting is desultory; small spotlights on stands fiercely illuminate the performersâ faces from a low angle limiting their expressiveness, which, in a production already bereft of chorus, orchestra and scenery, seems harsh on all present.
In spite of all that was missing, the work remains a sequence of irresistible tunes, heroically produced.
“Julia Burbachâs production sheds an interesting new light on the narrative, the characters and, in this case, the audience too”
You know youâre not going to expect an easy night of it when the central theme of a show is rape. Benjamin Brittenâs chamber opera premiered in 1946 and has sometimes provoked furious protest. So, it is interesting to see how it fares in the wake of the âMe Tooâ movement. As one of the centrepieces of the âGrimebornâ festival at the Arcola Theatre, Julia Burbachâs production of âThe Rape of Lucretiaâ sheds an interesting new light on the narrative, the characters and, in this case, the audience too.
It is an intense piece, to say the least, but one that is ideal for the intimacy of the staging at the Arcola. The complexities of the structure are more clear-cut when witnessed close up. The male and female chorus hold the narrative together and they very much involve the audience; shaping the emotional response as they uncover the events. Itâs almost as if the chorus are discovering it all for the first time themselves.
Natasha Jouhl and Rob Murray, as female and male chorus respectively, explain the situation in Rome. The city has sunk into depravity while fighting off a Greek invasion and Tarquinius (Benjamin Lewis), Collatinus (Andrew Tipple) and Junius (James Corrigan) are drinking together. While out fighting they have been sexually betrayed by their wives, with the exception of Collatinus whose wife, Lucretia (Bethan Langford), has remained faithful. Junius goads Tauquinius into testing Lucretiaâs chastity. To cut a fairly short story shorter, Tarquinius rises to the bait, seeks out Lucretia, and in a bumbled attempt at seduction rapes her.
What is clever in Burbachâs production is the way she makes the audience feel complicit. When Langford circles the space after the rape scene, she stalks the audience with accusing eyes, and we feel that we are voyeuristic accomplices to the rape. We have watched, yet did nothing to intervene. There is a real nobility in Langfordâs performance that empowers her character despite the tragic consequences of her violation.
Brittenâs score is an acquired taste, but the twelve strong orchestra under Peter Selwynâs Musical Direction make it immediately accessible. From its mixture of rich tension and sparse atmosphere the cast are able to wring out the emotion. It is beautifully acted and sung, particularly Jouhl and Murray whose articulation leaves no stone unturned as they uncover the action.
It is easy to see why Brittenâs opera is perceived as a story of despair and moral emptiness, and often the final message of redemption and Christian suffering seems shoehorned onto the narrative. In Burbachâs intimate production, though, the final poignant notes, rather than resounding with empty absolution, leave us wanting to dig deeper into the subtext and think more about the charactersâ motivations. And how we feel about them. Itâs not a comfortable piece. But thoroughly engaging.
