Purists may blench at some of the choices English Touring Opera has made in their staging of Monteverdi’s last opera (this vital work first saw the light of day an astonishing four centuries ago) but they have all been judiciously considered. While one or two miss the mark, most hit bullseyes and bring this travelling production vividly to life.
The orchestration by Yshani Perinpanayagam is thick and modern, a practical decision that brings L’incoronazione di Poppea roughly into line with its touring counterpart, Rossini’s La Cenerentola. Economically sound thinking, that, and the internal balance in this reading, conducted with theatrical élan by James Ham, rarely felt out of kilter.
Cuts, likewise, are inevitable for a tour where a maximum running time of three hours applies, but these have been skilfully applied to pass unnoticed except by carping cognoscenti. And while Helen Eastman’s performing translation lacks felicity, both in its persistent pairing of weak syllables with strong notes and vice versa and in its contrasts between low and high discourse (“Oh take a hike, you spit wad” declareth one of the commentariat gods early on) it brings with it the virtue of immediacy. “They’re just like our lot”, one might think of Rome’s over-privileged overlords.
This is the first main-tour show to be directed by the company’s new artistic director, Robin Norton-Hale, best known as the award-winning founder of OperaUpClose. She brings her familiar pared-back sensibility (and touring practicability) to this scenically understated Poppea, yet her work sustains visual interest thanks to her confident shaping of the stage picture amid sensitive lighting by Charlie Morgan Jones of the harmonious images and geometric designs of Basia Bińkowska’s décor.
The 13-strong cast was reduced to 12 at Snape Maltings by the indisposition of Elizabeth Karani, but Julia Mariko did double duty as both Virtue (her usual role) and a pitch-perfect Drusilla. The soprano was one of several artists who from their first notes made the listener sit bolt upright; others included countertenor Keith Pun as Love, an ever-present observer whose machinations moved in mysterious ways, and the mezzo-soprano Amy J Payne, known to many as one of the best comprimarios on the circuit, here given a role commensurate with her talents as Arnalta, Poppea’s garrulous nurse (a role normally taken by a high tenor).
At the top end of the cast Kezia Bienek was a gracious Ottavia, the unfortunate soon-to-be deposed Empress happily blest with one of designer Bińkowska’s most ravishing gowns. Bass Trevor Eliot Bowes, meanwhile, brought immense dignity to his Dignitas moment, Seneca’s suicide placed here just before the interval. In the title role, Jessica Cale captured all the wheedling sensuousness that Poppea deploys to realise her ruthless ambition, with Martha Jones less dramatically striking but no less merciless as her besotted Emperor Nero. Monteverdi forbears from lecturing his audience on the pair’s reprehensible natures – indeed, their celebrated final duet “Pur ti miro” is passion incarnate – but by their deeds shall we know them, and we do.
