I am currently doing an Opera Studies degree with Rose Bruford College in my “spare time” (usually between 10pm and 1am!) and a few weeks ago, as part of the course, I was lucky enough to attend study days at both Welsh National Opera (WNO) (at the Wales Millennium Centre) and the Royal Opera House (ROH). Living in Wiltshire, I’m pretty much half-way between the two venues so it was fascinating to compare these two very different opera companies and observe at close-quarters how an opera company works. Having seen the set for The Marriage of Figaro being made-ready at WNO, I decided I simply had to see the production and so booked up for one of the mid-week performances in the same week that we had already booked to go and see an Ellen Kent production of Verdi’s Aida at the Bristol Hippodrome.

WNO’s Marriage of Figaro was beautifully presented and the elegant set design and direction managed to achieve a spacious feel without swamping the performers. The diagonal orientation of the set effectively removed two-sides of the room and had the effect of drawing the audience into the action and creating a sense of intimacy despite the size of the stage at the WMC (an interesting take on the so-called “fourth-wall” concept so familiar in conventional theatre.)

There was also some clever use of furniture (mainly beds and benches) to add vertical extent to the action with the furniture sometimes being moved around the stage in a choreographed fashion to provide platforms for the performers. On such a big stage, it was nice to see the vertical dimension being so well employed! Some of the ensemble vignettes (particularly at the front of the stage) were also very nicely done and added to the feeling of intimacy.

There were some slightly odd moments – for instance, I’m still not entirely sure what all the nonsense with a silver bouncing ball was all about. Was it the moon? Was it “love”? Was it necessary? I found myself being distracted by it and wondering whether Figaro would drop it or kick it into the audience. On the whole though, Lluis Pasqual's direction was safely conventional.

The great mirrored walls made me think of the original Beaumarchais play’s provocative challenge to society to see its own moral inequities. I suppose that the mirrors, reflecting today’s audience, metaphorically challenged us to compare our own society’s morals with those portrayed on stage. In the opera’s farcical final scene (in which mistaken identities and trickery reach their inevitable conclusion) the mirrors were moved in and out to excellent effect to create a changing and bewildering maze of hiding places reminiscent of a hall of mirrors – a feat for which the technical team deserves considerable credit!

Musically, the performance was very solid. Noteworthy among the principal roles was Rebecca Evans as the Countess, her sublime tone, full of warmth and pathos was, for me, a real highlight of the opera. All of the cast turned in good performances with Jacques Imbrailo as the Count being sufficiently wicked without descending into melodrama but perhaps David Soar’s Figaro was rather too bland and lacking in mischief, albeit his singing was faultless. Rosemary Joshua was a wonderfully vivacious Susanna and enlivened the stage whenever she appeared. At times, the musical climaxes fell short of my expectation too and just seemed to lack the sparkle and drama one expects from WNO under Michael Hofstetter’s baton. (I do like a good fortissimo!) Overall, I felt that this was a very pleasing production but one that has potential to step up a gear.

Now I’ve written about Ellen Kent productions before, and much of what I’ve said on previous occasions holds good for her sumptuous production of Aida which played at the Bristol Hippodrome on 28 February. No bouncing balls here – what you get is a thoroughly traditional interpretation of a popular classic opera. Ellen Kent’s Amphitheatre Productions use a generic stage set (an amphitheatre design) which is dressed according to the time period and style of the opera being performed (albeit with some architectural anachronisms). As always, the costumary was magnificent but I was surprised that the budget did not extend to buying a slightly longer tunic skirt for Radames who, thankfully, never had to bend over or leap around in an excitable manner.

A frequent criticism of Eastern European opera singers (including Ellen Kent’s Chisinau National Opera hirelings) is that although they have wonderful vocal technique, they are seldom famed for their acting skills and this was certainly true of the chorus and lesser principals who were almost impressively wooden, showing little reaction to the events unfolding on stage before them. However, I was pleasantly surprised by both the fabulously expressive and passionate Zarui Vardanean who turned in a quite magnificent performance as Amneris and an equally impressive Irakli Grigali (Radames) (who trained in UK) who really carried the role well. Galina Bernaz in the title role never totally convinced me that she was in love with Radames although she gave a good and technically pleasing performance. The Priests’ chorus unwittingly provided entertainment by staging a “spot the false bald-head” competition (which was all too easy, particularly if you happened to be in the front row stalls.) This was a slightly surreal but uncharacteristic inattention to detail.

Now I know that from time-to-time it is traditional for opera singers to look at the conductor (just to make him feel loved). I’ve even done it myself on occasions and found it to be surprisingly useful. But there’s a balance, and, for all his mighty voice and great stage presence, Amonasro (played by Vladimir Dragos) spent more time eyeballing the conductor than he did looking at other members of the cast. Perhaps he was expecting the conductor to get Radames to reveal the Egyptian army’s line of advance? (This unfortunate habit is even more unnerving when a love duet is being sung and one is left with the impression that the performer has fallen in love with the conductor!) On the subject of conductors, Gheorghe Stanciu certainly knows how to deliver a good fortissmo – but more importantly, kept the orchestra well in check when sensitivity and a light touch was required. Bravo!

Now if all the above sounds rather harsh, I should put the record straight: this was another splendidly entertaining and enjoyable production and absolutely the sort of thing you could bring an opera novice to without scaring them off for life. The Hippodrome was barely two-thirds full, which is a great pity because this was a production well-worth seeing. I know plenty of opera-buffs who regard Ellen Kent’s productions as “rather too Classic fm” but I for one, appreciate their unadulterated presentation. Ellen Kent allows the composer and librettist to do the work, which is a refreshing change from directors who have some obscure point to make!