
Only in Wexford could their compact version of Michael William Balfe’s The Rose of Castile (1857), presented as a ‘pocket opera’ in the National Opera House’s smaller Jerome Hynes Stage, carry the faintest air of disloyalty alongside it. Balfe spent part of his childhood in Wexford, before studying in London, Rome, and Paris, and his legacy was tended in Ireland long after his death in 1870: Joyce punned on The Rose of Castile in Ulysses, while ‘I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls’, the best-known aria from The Bohemian Girl (1843), received the honour of an Enya cover in 1991. Full productions of The Rose of Castile headlined the first Wexford Festival of Music and the Arts in 1951 (excerpts available on YouTube) and the fortieth anniversary of the Festival in 1991; it shows how far Balfe’s star has fallen – or how many other composers Wexford has rehabilitated – for the seventy-fifth anniversary to demote The Rose of Castile to a seventy-minute reduction.

It was probably the right decision. The Rose of Castile is competent if slightly bloodless late bel canto. At his best, Balfe can produce as gorgeous a lyric line as Bellini, and his coloratura writing is pacy, but his drinking songs and laughing choruses are easier to lose patience with. Music director Rebecca Warren kept a firm hand on the score on the Hynes Stage’s Victorian toned piano.

The plot is similarly Victorian: Spanish royals slumming it in disguise, plotting cousins, mistaken identities, and love and virtue triumphant in the end. To make sense of the reduced version, stage director Heather Hadrill introduced a hard-boiled gumshoe narrator (Peter McCamley, with a juicy New York accent) to recap the plot, which was updated from medieval Spain to the 1920s. Besides flapper dresses and Peaky Blinders headgear, designer Lisa Krügel produced a striking set on the small stage where gilded frames and oversized playing cards did duty for a nightclub and the royal palace.

The cast all took their mission seriously. They were knowing rather than tongue-in-cheek, and had uniformly flawless diction. Especial praise for Eleri Gwilym, as Queen Elvira, who has a spectacular bel canto voice and flowing coloratura. Likewise, Irish tenor Eamonn Walsh as Manuel the muleteer (and maybe more) is also a very compelling bel cantist. ‘Twas rank and fame that tempted thee’, an aria that became a popular drawing room ballad (and also made it into Ulysses), stopped precisely short of being over-sentimental. Honourable mentions to Rory Musgrave as scheming Don Pedro, Conor Cooper and Jonah Halton as his accomplices, and Erin Fflur as Donna Carmen, Elvira’s maid of honour. A bright and well drilled ensemble did full justice to a Wexford stalwart.
The Rose of Castile runs as part of Wexford Festival Opera on 16, 20, 22, 24, 26, 29, 31 October 2026
Published post no.3,053 – Tuesday 18 October 2026





