Opera La Colombe/La Princesse Jaune, Buxton Festival/Opera House, review

The competence of the performances is not in question, but what possessed anyone to think that two such insipid pieces merited revival, asks Rupert Christiansen.

La Colombe: lacking in substance
La Colombe: lacking in substance Credit: Photo: Robert Workman

I’m instinctively all for taking the high road of risk and experiment, but the new artistic director of the Buxton Festival, Stephen Barlow, has surely ventured several steps too far in this year’s choice of repertory: at a time when opera needs to earn every last penny it can get from the box office, it seems positively suicidal to programme a prolix and dull piece of Mozart’s juvenilia and one of Vivaldi’s problematic opera seria, alongside several other modernities, obscurities and rarities of doubtful merit or coterie appeal.

From this daunting menu, I plumped for a fairly soft option: a double bill of two romantic one-act French confections of which I I previously knew nothing whatever.

Gounod’s La Colombe (The Dove), largely composed in 1860, shortly after his wildly successful version of Faust, is the tale of a social-climbing Countess who wants to keep up with her rival’s pet parrot by obtaining a prize dove. Farce of a genteel sort ensues as the owner of this latter creature is not only in love with the Countess but also desperate for something to eat.

Saint-Saëns’s La Princesse Jaune dates from 1872 and reflects the contemporary European fascination for all things Japanese in its theme of a Dutch poet more in love with a picture of a geisha than with his nice down-to-earth cousin next door.

The competence of the performances is not in question. The orchestra played bouncily under Barlow’s light-touch conducting; Francis Matthews’ staging is perfectly pleasant and untouched by gimmickry, with an attractive set by Lez Brotherston which cleverly suggests that both operas are taking place in the same tenement block.

The casts are more than adequate: in the Saint-Saens, Anne Sophie Duprels proves yet again what a fine actress she is, while in the Gounod, Ryan MacPherson gave an endearing impersonation of hapless infatuation and Gillian Keith sang with glassy charm.

But I cannot imagine what possessed anyone to think that two such insipid pieces merited revival. The Saint-Saëns gives off a few scented puffs of orientalist chic and the Gounod has some nicely crafted orchestration, yet neither work has any substance: the scores merely flutter momentarily and evanesce without leaving so much as hummable tune behind.

Stephen Barlow must find meatier musical fare if he is to hold the loyalty of the festival’s audience and weather the coming headwinds.

Until July 20. Tickets: 0845 127 2190; buxtonfestival.co.uk