Talking Heads: Paul Agnew

The conductor talks to Ben Hogwood about his forthcoming debut at Garsington Opera, where he will conduct Rameau‘s Platée – a work in which he has also sung the title role. Agnew talks about Rameau but also Handel, considering why now is a good time for British audiences to embrace the music of the French Baroque.

On a dark, dank winter’s day there is something incredibly heartening in having a discussion about the prospect of a summer opera season. Arcana has teamed up with conductor (and former tenor) Paul Agnew to do exactly that, and he is in optimistic mood. “It will arrive quickly, with the spring and the daffodils, and then we’ll find ourselves in Garsington!” he says. It will be his first visit to Wormsley Park, and to the festival. “I’m really looking forward to it. It’s one of those very original places, and it isn’t a dark theatre. It has windows, and so each production has to take into account that you’re going to have a part of that show in the light. I’ve never done that sort of thing, and the team is very nice. We had the model showing so we’ve seen the set, and the concepts, and it looks great. It will be a lot of fun, which it should be – but with that hint of tragedy, which is always lurking in Platée.”

He is talking about Rameau’s comic-tragic opera, which he will lead with a new team of soloists and The English Concert. It is the first excursion for Garsington into the world of French Baroque opera, but Agnew is returning to a piece he knows well. Indeed, he first encountered Platée as a singer. “I didn’t sing Platée – I sang Thespis in the Prologue. I was quite a young thing, and it was a production with the Opera de Paris. It’s a really hard role, extremely high – and obviously you go on at the top of the show. It’s a bit nervy. Then almost immediately I took on the role of Platée in that same production in Japan. That was released on DVD, which had a lot of success.”

He explains why. “Laurent Pelly did a genius job – and they found just the right balance in order that when we get to the end, where the audience have been cheerleading with the rest of the chorus and these horrible characters, and they find themselves in fact implicated in this terrible humiliation. I think he just found the right click. There was a gasp from the audience when they understood quite what a terrible thing this is. I wouldn’t want to exaggerate, but there is something political about it, and within the operas of Rameau – Les Indes galantes and certainly Les Boréades. They tend to have slightly monarchical reflections, and there’s a sense – if you know the film Ridicule – about how close you can get to the king but then you know you made a mistake, you didn’t use the right wig and so on, and you get sent straight back to the back of the queue. There’s a sense of that in Platée and the ridicule, as you would expect Jupiter – who essentially is Louis XIV – to be the hero. In fact, he’s the villain! It’s not exactly dangerous, but not politic either – Louis XV by then.”

Agnew has enjoyed a close affinity with Rameau throughout his career. “The very first thing I did in France, with William Christie and Les Arts Florissants, was record the Rameau Grands Motets. They’re relatively youthful pieces compared with the operas, which he didn’t start until he was about 50 years old. I love Les Grands Motets, partly because it’s surprising to find such incredibly sensual music for the church. They just seemed to suit my voice, and in fact it was one of the very first French Baroque things I did at all. You know you have those lucky things in in a long career where you ‘meet’ a music and you think, “Oh, my goodness, I’m really made for this!” I love the sentimentality of it, in the best sense of the term, I love the melody and I love the sensuality of the harmonies. That leads you through the line and tells you where you’re going constantly, so you can make the music into such a strong experience.”

Things moved quickly. “Almost immediately we started on the operas in the Opera de Paris, so we did Hippolyte et Aricie, then various roles in Les Indes galantes, and then we did Platée, which was with Marc Minkowski and Les Musiciens du Louvre. Then we did Les Boréades, the last opera, which was never staged in his lifetime – he was 80 when he wrote it. It’s amazing to think he lived to 80, but happily he did! It’s an astonishing journey, very much like Platée but in a much more heroic way – he’s a real prince. So I did all those operas, and I’ve sung others – Castor et Pollux for instance – in concert. I’ve done a lot of the ballets, too. I’m a big fan, as you would expect! It’s the most extreme the Baroque gets, even more complicated in some ways than Bach. He was an amazing technician, and he’s stating things relatively clearly, whereas there’s a complexity of emotions in Rameau which really predate going into Gluck and then early Mozart. He didn’t die until 1764, so Mozart has already composed his first piece before Rameau dies. There is a big influence on Gluck, and everything that he says about the reform operas is what Rameau has been trying to do for years.”

Performing the operas as both a singer and a conductor has given Agnew a unique perspective. “It’s very helpful”, he agrees, “for the singers too. I’m naturally a singer’s conductor, as I want them to be able to breathe and recover and so on, because that’s the best for us. I’m not going to push them into a tempo which they can’t do, so we want to find the right tempo for the singer. If you’re a singer you understand that more clearly. It’s a good place to have been, whatever the music – I’ve sung a lot of Handel and Purcell, and now I conduct a lot of Handel and Purcell too. Having sung Platée itself, it makes me smile and I’m not in the least bit jealous about being on stage. I wouldn’t want to sing it again or go through that experience. It’s a long evening, and you’re on stage a lot. There’s a lot to sing, it’s quite hard, and it’s quite physical because it’s a comedy. There’s a lot of running around, and jumping – if you’re a frog! – and I’m happy to leave that to other people. I still absolutely love the piece, and to have that long association is very useful.”

Visitors to Platée’s page on the Garsington Opera website are presented with the image of a flamingo and a beachball (above), an immediately appealing prospect in the depths of winter. “I think it’s going to be a lot of fun. I really like the way it’s being approached. We’re quite used to women playing men – that’s been around in Handel‘s Rinaldo, for instance, but the other way round is very much rarer. The only way in which the piece works is if she’s just a woman, you just get over it. I think Rameau’s idea was to define the strangeness to that person. It’s not about sexual politics, but not a woman as the gods would know – maybe asexual thing rather than being particularly transvestite or drag. I think we’re in the right direction in this production, where we just need to forget that the singer is a man, and just accept that this is a strange woman. She’s a nymph from the marshlands – we don’t know really what she is, a creature from the blue lagoon.”

It is the first time Agnew has encountered the work of director Louisa Miller and designer Christopher Oram. “I’m not sure they’ve done much Baroque before, so I wouldn’t have encountered them as that’s more or less my world. I like them very much. It’s not a very easy piece to approach dry – just to get your head around what Rameau could possibly be thinking about is quite hard. Right from the very first meetings we were clearly on the same page, and Louisa clearly knows the piece, which is very reassuring. As a singer you often get to the first rehearsal and find out the director doesn’t really know the piece very well, and you find yourself having to subtly guide the director through towards a good solution. That’s definitely not the case here! Chris’s designs are very good, it’s funny and relevant and they work throughout the piece. Sometimes at a first rehearsal you think, “This will work great in Act One, and Act Three, but Acts Two and Four will be a disaster because it just simply won’t work in this concept. This concept will work the whole way through, so I’m really encouraged. We’ve got a lovely cast, and also decided at the beginning we would take a cast where nobody had sung it before. Nobody arrives with preconceptions about how their role is, or how they would like to play it.”

There is a sense of great excitement that this is Garsington’s first foray into Rameau’s output. “Yes, and they’ve chosen well!” he says enthusiastically. “We’ve got a great band in the English Concert. I sang with them in my 20s, with Trevor Pinnock, and what an honour it is to direct them.” He expands on the repertoire at hand. “I’ve done French Baroque music with English bands before, and it is quite tricky. They’re technically such fantastic players, but it has a tricky accent, and you can’t get it just by reading the books. Again, it’s useful to be a singer in those situations because you can sing the sensuality of the line much more easily than you can describe it. I always end up singing quite a lot of rehearsals because it’s a visceral, physical reaction to what you hear, which makes it much easier. It will be a challenge for the band to get that accent right, but they’re eminently capable, and I’m massively looking forward to working with them.”

They are complemented by a strong team of soloists, who have equivalent challenges. “Equally, the singers are all English, so we need to get that right – and that’s not just question of pronunciation. There are all sorts of things about how the phrases are constructed, and how the ornamentation helps the grammar of the music. We will have time and we have a good cast, so that doesn’t worry me. You have to go quite deep into these pieces, especially doing this repertoire for the very first time in an opera house. It’s very rare to hear Rameau at all in the UK. I think Platée is the only piece that has been properly staged in the past, and that was a long time ago with the Royal Opera House. It’s very exciting, and there is a lot of interest from the public in French baroque music, so I look forward to that encounter! It is very complicated to put on, you need a ballet, an orchestra that knows their beans, and a cast willing to take risks with the ornamentation. It’s a courageous choice, but not an impossible one.”

Is the boundless supply of great music by Handel (below) in some ways to blame for the relative lack of French baroque music in the UK? Agnew smiles. “Handel’s an interesting one, because he would say, “You do get French Baroque – because if you look at the dances in Alcina, the overtures – you’re not missing out, I’ve written it myself!” In some ways, yes – but you could never say Handel’s at fault, because a house without Handel would be a disaster. You have to think as well that if Purcell had lived longer than the whole history of English music would have been very different. He died in 1695, and then they had a few abortive attempts to create English opera. Then there was an extraordinary moment where Handel arrives, and he creates this strange bastard form of Italian opera for English people, written by a German! You think it’s never going to work but he has this immense success, at least until the early 1740s.”

He goes into more detail behind Handel’s successful formula. “He is much more straightforward, he has the advantage – and I don’t mean to be disrespectful – that what you see on the page is what you get. Twenty to thirty years earlier, the ‘affect’ is everything. Once you start an aria you stay in that in that emotion until the end of the aria, and then a recitative will tell you what kind of emotion you’re going to go to in the next one. With Rameau it’s much, much more fluid than that, because things are changing very fast, and he goes towards complications where the likes of Pergolesi go towards simplicity. You get that break that comes around the time of French Revolution, a time of an immense social and cultural change. Handel is a chancer, isn’t he?! He’s in Italy, and then he knows that George of Hanover is going to be the next king of England, so he immediately goes up and gets a job in Hanover. The first thing the Hanoverians say is go to England, as a sort of spy-come-diplomat or equerry.”

The rest – as they say – is history, and Agnew relishes recounting the events. “And then, of course, George I turns up and it’s all set up for him to have this contact with the nobility, and the prestigious arrival of the king at his operas and so on. He’s bright, and gets it sorted right at the start! The other thing is he turns up in Italy, and produces these works that are effectively for the Catholic nobility and cardinals, and he is a straight, up and up Protestant Lutheran. And yet – business is business, you do what you want! He produces something for a public that don’t know anything about anything. Rameau can produce something much more technically difficult and also psychologically complex, because he’s simply joining the train. We’ve had Lully, Charpentier, Campra, and all the rest – and Handel arrives and takes all that on board, that melange between the original French style – which wasn’t French anyway, because Lully wasn’t French – and then he puts this new Italian virtuosity in. He’s joining this great movement, and dominates England completely!”

We move on from Agnew’s fascinating dissection of Handel and Rameau to talk about one of his mentors and accomplices, conductor William Christie (above). “He’s a theatre man, he wants to pick up the music and shake it and I love that. When you’re a singer, you absolutely want that because you don’t want someone saying, “Careful with the D sharp”, you want someone saying, “Come on, tell me the story!” I always much prefer those people  – and John Eliot Gardiner as well – who pick up the music and shake it, and have enough courage to say this music needs interpreters. The composer wants you to take it and make a show of it. That’s what Bill does, and absolutely what I try to do now as a conductor. You should take risks with it! These people were pragmatists, so if you’ve got someone who can sing this note but not that one, go with it. If you look at the history of Handel’s operas, or Messiah – there’s no definitive Messiah. He changed all the time, because he wanted to get the best out of who he had. It wasn’t saying, “This is my definitive work of art, have some respect and do it correctly”, it was, “Today it’s going to be like this, tomorrow it’s going to be different again, because I need to get the best that you have! I need to get great performance out of you. And that’s why it changes constantly. We don’t quite have that variance, but nonetheless you still have to have that attitude that you have to make a show. That goes straight through to Mozart – he is a show man. You want to start Cosi fan tutte with the overture thinking that you are making a show, not a homage. It’s an entertainment. You should laugh and cry and be frightened and happy, and all those things!”

Turning to Rameau again, he considers the composer’s standing. “He can be very funny, in the likes of Les indes galantes – and Platée is genuinely funny too. Rameau is always known as a surly bugger, when you read about him he is not at all a nice person – but he is really genuinely funny. To do comedy, as everyone knows, it’s much harder than just telling a joke – you have to have that special talent. He has that. It doesn’t mean that Boreades or Hippolyte aren’t amazing pieces, but when he wants to be funny he can be very funny.”

Rameau (above) is a colourful composer, too. “Everything is about colour”, agrees Agnew, “and he’s the first to really properly orchestrate, not just saying to the flutes to play the same as the violins. This is music just for flutes, just for the oboe, and then we’re just going to hear the strings coming in when when we need harmony. And then of course we’ll have a big string moment. It’s the beginning of colour in its best sense, not only harmonic colour but audible colour. The players suddenly find themselves pretty exposed in Rameau, particularly the bassoon parts. He’s a genius of the bassoon writing, and you get these incredible melodies, in Dardanus for example, with these sombre, reedy, mournful qualities. Some amazing colours.”

There is more, too. “And then he’s a great dancer! I think he has to be the best dance composer before Stravinsky. He has this incredible variety, within the ‘stock’ dances. Everyone knows straight away if it’s a Galliard or a Bourree, but they are so incredibly different. It’s a joy when the band understand it, too. I did Platée with the Dresden Staatskapelle, and a more serious orchestra you could not find – but once they got the idea that you could have fun and you could play out and take risks, they really went for it and it ended up great fun. There was a sort of trigger moment where we were doing a dance, and I kept on trying to get them to bow shorter, because they do hugely long bows, with fabulous, resonant instruments – nothing like the English Concert will play in Platée. I was trying to get them to play shorter and closer to the bridge, get a slightly sharper sound out of it. The shorter they got with the bow, the more they understood it and wanted to play out. It took off! Legato is a kind of aberration in this opera, everything else is short – so we charmed them out of certain – very good – habits.”

We bid farewell with one thing clear – Platée is in very good hands and a highly entertaining night is in prospect. “The main thing to say is that it’s a fun evening. You don’t need to worry if you don’t know much about French, or Baroque, or history. Just come and have a ball, it’s a fun evening, a fun piece with some very sharp twists!”

You can read more about the forthcoming production, and book tickets, at the Garsington Opera website

BBC Proms 2023 – Soloists, BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra / Ryan Wigglesworth – György Kurtág’s ‘Endgame’

Prom 43

Endgame (2011-18) [UK Premiere]

Scenes and monologues; opera in one act by György Kurtág; Libretto by the composer after Samuel Beckett’s Fin de partie

Semi-staged performance; sung in French with English surtitles

Hamm – Fred Olsen (bass), Clov – Morgan Moody (bass-baritone), Nell – Hilary Summers (contralto), Nagg – Leonardo Cortellazzi (tenor), Victoria Newlyn (stage director)

BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra / Ryan Wigglesworth

Royal Albert Hall, London

Thursday 17th August 2023

Royal Albert Hall, London
Friday 11 August 2023

by Richard Whitehouse photos by Sisi Burn / BBC

It may have had to wait three years since being postponed from the 2020 season, but tonight’s Prom brought a first hearing in this country for György Kurtág’s opera Endgame after Samuel Beckett and a performance such as, in the event, delivered at least as much as it had promised.

Although seeing Fin de partie on his first visit to Paris in 1957, it took several decades before Kurtág felt able to tackle a full-length opera and only in 2010 was a formal commission made by La Scala – presaging seven years of sustained (and evidently torturous) activity prior to its Milan premiere in November 2018. The subtitle is ‘Scenes and monologues; opera in one act’ and, having set 60% of the original French text, Kurtág still intends to add further scenes but, now in his 98th year, it would not be surprising were this opera to remain in its present form.

Unfolding continuously (and with no interval) across almost two hours, Endgame consists of 14 scenes which hone Beckett’s already sparse drama down to an unremitting focus on its four characters in their undoubted hopelessness and seeming helplessness. Vocally the predominant idiom is a speech-inflected arioso conveying its text with acute clarity against the backdrop of an orchestra which, despite – perhaps because of – its size and diversity, is almost always used sparingly. Stylistically the music invokes those traits familiar from its composer’s work across six decades which are not diluted as rendered in new and unlikely contexts; one notable aspect is the oblique while always audible allusion to those earlier composers who have accompanied Kurtág over his life’s work, and that here emerge as ‘figures’ all but tangible in their presence.

Utilizing three of the four singers from the Milan production, the cast could hardly have been stronger in commitment or insight. His being even more the defining role than with Beckett’s play, Frode Olsen here conveyed the predicament of Hamm with an authority the greater for its restrained vulnerability. He was abetted in this by Morgan Moody, whose Clov was poised between servant and protégé for a portrayal always empathetic however great its exasperation. Leonardo Cortellazzi summoned deftly whimsical humour as Nagg, reconciled to his dustbin-clad fate in contrast to the bittersweet recollections of Nell as taken by Hilary Summers – her eloquence extended by a later Beckett poem in a touching prologue. Victoria Newlyn brought the stark stasis of the drama and expanse of the Albert Hall’s acoustic into persuasive accord.

A versatile and perceptive conductor (and no mean opera composer, witness his ENO drama The Winter’s Tale six years previously), Ryan Wigglesworth duly had the measure of Kurtág’s elusive if inimitable idiom and drew a fastidious response from the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra; its playing as attentive to the score’s many subtleties as to its emotional highpoints – not least the closing bars, whose wrenching dissonance speaks of catharsis at least as much as of tragedy. The composer will hopefully have had an opportunity to hear this performance.

One looks forward to an eventual staging of this opera in the UK (following those subsequent productions in Amsterdam and Paris). Whatever else, Endgame is the summative work which Kurtág had to write and as confirmed tonight, the effort in its realization has not been in vain.

For more on the 2023 BBC Proms, visit the festival’s website at the BBC. Meanwhile click on the names for resources relating to György Kurtág and Samuel Beckett – and on the artist names Ryan Wigglesworth, Frode Olsen, Morgan Moody, Hilary Summers, Leonardo Cortellazzi, Victoria Newlyn and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra

Oppenheimer – the opera

Operan-heimer

by Ben Hogwood

With the release of Christopher Nolan’s film Oppenheimer last Friday, it is worth noting that opera also has its own high quality biopic of the scientist.

John Adams wrote Doctor Atomic in 2005 to a libretto by Peter Sellars. It is a compelling tale, bolstered by some of the composer’s best music.

The Metropolitan Opera have made their Penny Woolcock production available online, and you can view it here… it is highly recommended!

Arcana at the opera: The Bartered Bride @ Garsington Opera

The Bartered Bride (Prodaná nevěsta) (1866)
Comic opera in Three Acts – music by Bedřich Smetana; Libretto by Karel Sabina
Sung in Czech with English surtitles.

Mařenka – Pumeza Matshikiza (soprano), Jeník – Oliver Johnston (tenor), Kecal – David Ireland (bass), Vašek – John Findon (tenor), Ludmila – Yvonne Howard (soprano), Krušina – William Dazeley (baritone), Mícha – John Savournin (bass), Háta – Louise Winter (mezzo-soprano), Ringmaster – Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts (tenor), Esmeralda – Isabelle Peters (soprano)

Rosie Purdie (director), Kevin Knight (designer), Howard Hudson (lighting), Darren Royston (choreographer)

Circus Troupe, Garsington Opera Chorus, Philharmonia Orchestra / Jac van Steen

Garsington Opera, Wormsley
Friday 30 June 2023

review by Richard Whitehouse Photos by (c) Alice Pennefather

Smetana may have played down its status in the context of his output, but The Bartered Bride remains the foundation of Czech opera and is much the most performed work stemming from that tradition, making this revival of Garsington Opera’s 2019 production the more welcome.

Rosie Purdie’s direction accorded wholly with Paul Curran’s original conception, transferring the scenario to a 1950s Britain where class restrictions and petty-mindedness were as much a given as in Bohemia a century before, yet the socio-political facet seemed as astutely handled as the cultural trappings of that first teenage generation were underlined without detriment to what was played out on stage. Kevin Knight’s designs clarified this setting most effectively, and Howard Hudson’s lighting was vivid without ever being garish. Most especially, Darren Royston’s choreography afforded communal togetherness during the crowd scenes while also ensuring that the circus troupe’s routines at the beginning of the third act came alive without any sense of their being a mere ‘add on’ to this production, and hence of the opera as a whole.

The casting could hardly have been bettered. Among the most wide-ranging role of any 19th-century opera, Mařenka was superbly taken by Pumeza Matshikiza (above) who conveyed pathos and real integrity of character to substantialize those comic capers unfolding on stage in what was an assumption to savour. Not comparable musically, that of Jeník is a notable role that Oliver Johnston rendered with verve and audible eloquence – such that his ostensibly hard-headed decisions could only be the outcome of an essentially sincere as well as selfless motivation.

Notwithstanding that the secondary roles provide relatively little in terms of characterization, John Findon drew a degree of sympathy for the hapless Vašek, William Dazeley and Yvonne Howard were well matched as the warmly uncomprehending Kružina and Lumilla, while the scheming couple of Mícha and Háta saw a suitable response from John Savournin and Louise Winter, abetted in this respect by David Ireland’s roguish Kecal. Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts was magnetic as the Ringmaster, and Isabelle Peters provided an entrancing cameo as Esmerelda.

The latter characters are part of a Circus Troupe that, fronted by Jennifer Robinson, brought the stage to life just after the dinner interval. Elsewhere, the hard-working Garsington Opera Chorus offered a reminder this is an opera second to none in terms of its choral contribution, while the Philharmonia sounded in its collective element under the assured direction of Jac van Steen, familiar in the UK through his extensive work with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and Ulster Orchestra. In particular, the overture and set-pieces in each act had the requisite vigour and effervescence as has made them at least as familiar in the concert hall, and it remains a testament both to Smetana’s immersion in and understanding of his native music that only the ‘Furiant’ at the start of the second act derives from a traditional source.

The Bartered Bride has enjoyed numerous UK productions during recent decades – among which, this Garsington revival can rank with the finest in terms of musical immediacy and visual allure. Those not able to see it four years ago should certainly do so this time around.

For information on further performances, visit the Garsington Opera website. Click on the artist names for more information on Pumeza Matshikiza, Oliver Johnston, Jac van Steen, Philharmonia Orchestra and stage director Rosie Purdie

Arcana at the opera: Hansel and Gretel @ Opera Holland Park (Young Artists Performance)

Hansel and Gretel (1893)
Opera in Three Acts – music by Engelbert Humperdinck; Libretto by Adelheid Wette
Sung in German with English surtitles. Orchestral reduction by Tony Burke

Hansel – Shakira Tsindos (mezzo-soprano), Gretel – Emily Christine Loftus (soprano), Peter – Edward Kim (baritone), Gertrud – Madeline Boreham (mezzo-soprano), The Gingerbread Witch – Ella de Jongh (mezzo-soprano), The Sandman – Claudia Haussmann (soprano), The Dew Fairy – Eleanor Broomfield (soprano)

Bence Kalo (director), Avishka Edrisinghe (repetiteur), Lily Wieland (deputy stage manager)

Opera Holland Park Chorus, Choir of Cardinal Vaughan Memorial School, City of London Sinfonia / Charlotte Corderoy

Holland Park, London
Friday 16 June 2023

review by Richard Whitehouse Photos by (c) Ali Wright

Performances by The Young Artists have been a welcome feature of Opera Holland Park this past decade – none more so than this staging of Hansel and Gretel, Humperdinck’s fairy-tale opera with its ‘rites of passage’ scenario ideally suited to singers at the outset of their careers.

An object lesson in less is more, Bence Kalo’s astute direction worked convincingly through conveying the essence of the siblings’ nocturnal journey – maybe more imagined then real, as was implied by the overture’s becoming a pantomime where a host of comedic and woodland characters assumed the spotlight. Neither was the subsequent element of danger played down, with the confrontation with the Witch taking on ominous overtones as cut across the farce and so made the latter’s demise then the freeing of her victims the more affecting in consequence.

The eponymous figures were as well matched vocally as visually. Shakira Tsindos proved a Hansel likable for all his (sic) gaucheness and gullibility – projecting the character with flair and immediacy, if marginally overdoing the slapstick in the third act. Emily Christina Loftus was a Gretel near ideal in her unforced eloquence, all the while exuding an awareness of the ‘outside world’ as made her the dramatic and musical focus during their sylvan wonderings. As an empathetic portrayal, it could hardly have been bettered technically or interpretively.

Absent throughout much of the opera, the roles of the parents are none the less crucial to its dramatic trajectory. Edward Kim was adept in channelling the warmth and guilelessness of Peter with no risk of sentimentality, making him a dependable figure whatever his failings. Madeline Boreham was forceful but never mean-spirited as Gertrud, her overt exasperation leavened by the anguish through which she lamented her family’s poverty, and recognizing the degree to which Humperdinck humanizes her character compared to the Grimm original.

The remaining roles were ably taken – not least the Witch of Ella de Jongh, who brought off the vocal as well as scenic change from pantomime dame to small-time dictator with aplomb. Claudia Haussmann was magnetic though a little edgy in tone as the Sandman, while Eleanor Broomfield conveyed real enchantment without unnecessary whimsy as the Dew Fairy. The choral contribution had the requisite poise and finesse, not least in those evocative moments when the shades of children vanished into the witch’s domain emerged out of the tonal ether.

The orchestra (City of London Sinfonia in its familiar summer guise) was its usual dependable self, the scaled-down complement of strings not lacking for presence situated at the centre of the platform. It helped that Charlotte Corderoy (above) was so evidently attuned to this score, pacing the unfolding drama with subtlety and purpose, while drawing instrumental felicities aplenty from such as the animated prelude and magical ‘dream-pantomime’ which frame the second act. In its mingled pathos and effervescence, the closing scene provided a fitting denouement.

A victim of its own success for much of the 130 years since its premiere, Hansel and Gretel remains an opera not just for Christmas and not just for children: a work in which innocence and experience are meaningfully conjoined, as was confirmed by this admirable production.

For information on further performances, visit the Opera Holland Park website – and you can meet the OHP Young Artists here. Click on the names for more information on Bence Kalo and Charlotte Corderoy