Garsington Manor stands on a hill overlooking the Oxfordshire countryside. Architects call this “borrowed landscape” where vistas extend beyond a property, into the distance. Garsington Opera productions follow the same principle. The stage is literally built on the terrace that connects the house to the flower gardens. The performance space is open on one side. Sometimes rain and wind intrude on a performance – as do birds – but that is part of the pleasure. "Country House Opera" is one of the glories of the English summer and Garsington is one of the highlights.
This year brought Vivaldi’s L’incoronazione di Dario to Britain for the first time. Vivaldi has benefited from the upsurge of interest in the baroque, and his music is still being unearthed. L’incoronazione di Dario was first performed as part of the Venetian Carnival in 1717, so it's party opera, meant for fun celebrations. Vivaldi churned out almost 100 of these blockbusters so finesse isn't really what's happening here.
Musically, L’incoronazione di Dario is standard mistaken identity farce. Arias and recitatives are fairly short and undeveloped. Ideas flash past and aren’t extended. There’s no particular structure orchestrally to detract from the lively action. It was a pity, because this orchestra was very good. They are musicians trained to 20th century standards, playing what might have been performed by basic theatre players 300 years ago. But to their credit, they appreciated that this music works better when it’s played with gusto.
Fortunately, if L’incoronazione di Dario doesn’t quite convince as music, this production made it work very well as theatre. The plot is thin and illogical, so the staging turns its weaknesses into virtues. A huge half finished “Persian” head hovers above the stage throughout. It’s the dead King, who interjects during the course of events. At the end, his huge hand is left pointing at the stage. It’s hilarious. Argene is a princess right out of 50’s America, complete with Elvis Presley 45’s, a gingham crop top and tight jeans. Why, one might ask ? But that’s the whole point. This isn’t supposed to make sense. This is entertainment, not philosophy. So when the suitors fight, it’s cod pantomime. Casting a soprano instead of a countertenor as Arpago the suitor adds yet another irreverent touch. He/she wears the kind of military uniform Michael Jackson might take seriously, for this is the least butch soldier imaginable. So when he/she sings about being the greatest soldier the kingdom ever had, it’s a scream.
But perhaps the star was the stage itself. When Statira leaves the palace and heads for the wild, dangerous forests supposedly inhabited by beasts, she can be seen parading through the neat parterres of the flower garden, he wedding dress and train blowing in the breeze. Dario runs into the garden slashing his sword to create a bouquet for her. There are lots of real flowers out there, but he brings in an obvious fake, which she swoons over. He has a “mad scene” in which he slashes one of the two trees on stage in his “rage”, but it’s artificial. The other tree is real, or looks like it is. Just as “borrowed landscape” works in the gardens at Garsington, borrowed landscape works in its opera productions. It expands the stage and participates in the drama, without singing, without music, but very much part of the action.
pix at :
http://www.musicweb-international.com/SandH/2008/Jan-Jun08/garsington2506.htm
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