The American bass Soloman Howard deserves a London debut worthier of his exceptional talents than this sorry Luisa Miller at the London Coliseum
Luisa Miller
London Coliseum Until March 6
English National Opera is the Flying Dutchman of the operatic world, floating aimlessly around the repertoire, creating chaos most places it alights. This Luisa Miller could have been a considerable success – it’s well cast, and well conducted by Alexander Joel, with ENO’s orchestra and chorus back to almost top form.
But it all goes wrong, as it does so often with ENO, because the Flying Dutchman of St Martins Lane has sailed into Wuppertal (where?) and picked up young director Barbora Horáková (who?), and she has ruined the show as effectively as if she’d gone into the National Gallery across the road and thrown a bucket of ordure over a favourite Constable.
Horáková was the choice of ENO’s now departed artistic director Daniel Kramer, also a devotee of German-style Regietheater (director’s opera) excesses. These excesses are here in abundance.
Elizabeth Llewellyn is an accomplished Verdi soprano, whose Luisa is well worth hearing and Soloman Howard, as Wurm, sings like a fine American bass of the past (both above)
The chorus are dressed like clowns (it’s the directorial team who should be); kids represent the principals when young (cliché); and an androgynous, scruffy dance troupe prances around disrupting the big dramatic moments of Verdi’s generally fine score (yet another cliché).
Inevitably, there’s some spray-on sadism, as when the Count (James Creswell) sings while torturing a pathetic young lad dressed only in grotty underpants. And they expect people to pay up to £125 for this.
As I had to do to take my long-suffering partner, because ENO continues to punish critical critics by withdrawing the customary second seat.
The chorus are dressed like clowns (it’s the directorial team who should be); and kids represent the principals when young (cliché) (Above, Christine Rice as Federica)
Another financial disaster beckons with this. Just as well that ENO not only gets an Arts Council grant, offering massive state subsidies, but can rent out the Coliseum for shows like Hairspray and trouser the proceeds.
Not quite what I had in mind when, as Chief Secretary to the Treasury, I bought the freehold of the Coliseum for ENO.
But mainly, I feel sorry for Luisa Miller’s talented singers, who deserve better than this travesty of a story of love across the class divide. Elizabeth Llewellyn is an accomplished Verdi soprano, whose Luisa is well worth hearing.
This handsome woman is saddled with a flimsy, silly little pre-teens dress, which is humiliating for her to wear. The Korean tenor David Junghoon Kim is an ardent, albeit not really Italianate, Rodolfo.
He too is punished with an all-black costume, as if auditioning for the title role in Kim Jong Un: The Musical.
The other principals perform well, and lurking among them is a star of the future, the American bass Soloman Howard, winner of last year’s Marian Anderson award. As Wurm, he sings like a fine American bass of the past, Sam Ramey, and has the physique of Anthony Joshua.
He deserves a London debut worthier of his exceptional talents than this sorry mess.