Something old, something new, something borrowed, something… green? In Masque of Might the heavenly, seventeenth century baroque music of Henry Purcell is married with a hellish, surreal (yet horribly real) story of a ruthless, brutal, modern-day tyrant bent on societal and environmental domination and destruction. This weird and wonderful coupling has been conceived and assembled by Sir David Poultney to create a brand new “eco-entertainment”.
The work is inspired by the “masque”, a popular entertainment in Elizabethan times and still in Purcell’s day before semi-operas and then through-composed operas took over. As in variety shows, the diverse contributions of dance, word and music didn’t have to link together or offer continuity. Masque of Might, though, whilst maintaining this quality of disparate elements that are not tailor-made, presents a tragicomic spectacle that does, in fact, have a strong storyline threading through, while remarkably, the collage of texts from the various sources that Purcell set to music often aptly relate to our modern day crises and feelings. But then, war, tyranny, plague, pestilence, pollution, the beauty of Nature and the chaos of natural disasters have never been absent from the world, of course. Written for sacred, theatrical and dance purposes, more than 40 generally lesser known of Purcell’s compositions flow along, with just the one composition (from Ode for the Birthday of Queen Mary 1693) having words written entirely by David Poultney in This talk of Doom is All a Hoax, though he has made tweaks to texts elsewhere.
Purcell’s compositions form the delightful, delicate backbone of this new work, wonderfully played and sung under the direction of Harry Bicket, one of the world’s pre-eminent conductors of baroque repertoire. Alongside other instruments a loveliness of harpsichords, bright trumpets, theorbo (a ridiculously long lute), recorders and viola da gamba rings out, all played with utmost expertise. Opera North’s equally superb singers, meanwhile, share in the thrills of mellifluous frills, trills and mile-long melismas and convey most movingly Purcell’s loud, stirring proclamations and masterly, heart-rending songs of lament and weeping.
As part of Opera North’s Green Theatre season, to tremendous effect, Leslie Travers’ sets and costumes (with costumes ranging from huge, regal sparkle to totalitarian flat cap drabness, trilby/trench-coat resistance-group green and dazzling, nature-bright floweriness) have all been brilliantly shared and assembled from existing, sustainable sources. While Falstaff’s caravan now briefly houses a fortune-teller, a witch and a military-clad Stalin, impressive backdrops, outfits, lighting and David Haneke’s extensive, glorious video input provide continuous, stunning interest and context. We fly across starry skies in a breath-taking whirl of planets (and space debris); we witness a total eclipse of the fiery sun and a chaos of spiralling winds; we visit the palatial, Versailles-like realms of dictator Diktat, whose portrait, as in Harry Potter, struts its mobile stuff behind him; and we enter a grisly prison, its mouldering corridors stretching on forever as dissidents sing in despair behind their sets of choreographed bars. Stark footage shows flooded landscapes, chimneys belching endless suffocating smoke, glaciers tumbling, wildfires roaring as Nature is felled, slashed, blackened and burnt until one lone orangutan looks out at us all in dismay.
But first, the overture and the appearance of Elena and Nebulous in a sparkling lavishness of Sun-King and Queen splendour, the dueting voices of Anna Dennis and Andri Bjorn Robertsson’s likewise blending with sparkle. Robertsson’s fine bass-baritone tones command well as Nebulous and as Activist and Wolf while the radiant Anna Dennis engages throughout, her rich, flowing, floating soprano, making each song reach the heart whether as ethereal Elena or as a be-suited, down-to-earth, planet-defending Caroline-Lucas figure. Elena’s solo for The Plaint (O Let Me Ever, Ever Weep from The Fairy Queen) is especially moving, enhanced by six, dark-clad dancers, whose movements mourn with her the death of Nebulous.
Devil incarnate, Diktat, emerges as a baby from a giant, stripy-hooded pram, but in no time a bald-headed, macho dictator stands before us, medals stretched across his self-important chest, his oversized dummy swapped for guns and missiles. Ready to strut his manliness in vests and camouflage trousers, he throws his slight-bodied but considerable weight and might about, ruling the roost and destroying all in his path – wild boars, dissenting humans and Nature itself. (Sounds familiar? Da?) Conjuring up convincingly this putrid, ruthless ruler, albeit a gloriously tuneful one, is Callum Thorpe and his surly, imperious bass.
Two of the foolish beings who abet this odious, brutal man are portrayed as clowns, Strumpet Ginger and Tousel Blond. Fabulously tuneful and funny though they be, they are, nevertheless, remorseless, cruel torturers, ever at the ready with cattle prods and electric chair. James Hall and James Laing create this exhilarating comic duo of exciting countertenors, exuberant together in duets such as Sound The Trumpet and in Laing’s duet as Fox with Robertsson’s fine bass-baritone Wolf. In part two, following the tyrant’s eventual demise, their comic antics with irons and ironing boards are much enjoyed as they iron their sunflower T-shirts and get chased off by a Playschool-bright troupe of dancing, pollinating bees and flowers.
Xavier Hetherington’s fine, bright tenor brings him to life in his different roles, an uncanny doll-model of Diktat sitting on his knee like a tiny ventriloquist dummy when he appears as the fortune-telling Seer, while there’s more fine singing from Matthew Brook and, as ever, the entire chorus, whether wielding chain-saws, watering-cans, green-tree fingers, cheerleader pom-poms, prison bars, mops or nothing at all, enters wholeheartedly into every role and sings magnificently.
Though the piece feels overly protracted at times, especially after the interval, and our happy ending comes somewhat of a sudden rather than having a more impactful, climactic build-up, at least the happy ending rids the world of the tyrant and helps earth heal. Well, it is fantasy after all. This, though, is a splendid entertainment, packed with glorious, exciting music, fabulous singing and acting, lots of visual spectacle and variety, comedic fun, earnest lament, a relevant message, a flutter of hope and many, many special moments.
Eileen Caiger Gray
This production runs in Leeds until Oct 27th and then tours, along with Falstaff and La Rondine, to Newcastle, Nottingham and Salford. For more information follow this link.
