(Saturday 10-11 am, Monday 1-2 pm)
CLASSICAL
Wendy Dawn Thompson and Giselle Allen in Katya Kabanova by Opera North at the Grand Theatre
Leeds Photo: Tristram Kenton
Opera North
Grand Theatre, Leeds Although it is only eight years since Tim Albery directed Janacek's Katya Kabanova for Opera North, with designs by Hildegard Bechtler, their new concept - spare in direction, economical in design, and beautifully lit by Peter Mumford - provides a completely fresh take on Katya.
Giselle Allen makes light work of the remorselessly demanding role of Katya. Her soaring soprano is in tune with Janacek's concept of his doomed heroine as someone "of such a soft nature that... if the sun shone fully on her she would melt". In her two monologues, she conveys how desperately Katya needs to escape from the hypocritical provincialism that is stifling her.
Her gently lyrical opening phrases couldn't be in sharper contrast to the squawking tirade of her mother-in-law, Kabanicha, more spitefully shrewish than malignantly evil in Sally Burgess's portrayal. Burgess's compliance in the kinky games of the bullying merchant, Dikoy, suggests that her dominatrix exterior excites her as much as it does him.
As Katya's husband, John Graham Hall makes a suitably ineffective Tichon, uttering his final accusation against his mother so frailly it's as though he's forgotten the sound of his own voice. Wendy Dawn Thompson as a bright, sweet-voiced Varvara and Ashley Catling's virile Kudryash provide welcome interludes from the tension of the main drama. Peter Wedd, as Katya's lover Boris, sings ardently and phrases sensitively.
Even when Katya's music is confined to the orchestra, under Richard Farnes the instruments vividly convey her feelings and desires. The score may be a mine of intricate detail, but it is the passion of the writing that takes one's breath away.
Bechtler's predominantly slate-like walls scarcely reflect the summer foliage of the garden. But thevibrant russet of the ruins in the storm scene and the green of the Volga itself are positively glowing in comparison with the dark interiors ofthe Kabanova household. A framing device within the set conveys a sense of unease, a deep melancholia in which Katya seems helplessly enveloped. The sombrelydressed villagers add a dreamlike quality to the production of an opera that feelsas powerful today as it seemed daring in 1921.
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© Copyright 2007, The Independent - London
