Maria Stuarda; New Music Biennial – review

Composed by an Italian, reworked from a German play based on a nonexistent episode in British history, Maria Stuarda has always suffered an identity crisis. Music aside – a rather big aside since Donizetti's score is the reason we care about this opera at all – nothing is authentic except on its own terms. Schiller's play about Mary Queen of Scots and Elizabeth I has a large cast and concentrates on religion and politics. Donizetti's opera reduces the cast to six and makes love and female enmity the focus.

These factors make Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier's eclectic new staging for the Royal Opera understandable if not wholly defensible. For "eclectic" others might prefer potpourri, gallimaufry, dog's dinner or claptrap, to judge from reports of the first night, which was roundly booed (production, not singers). It is hard to see what the fuss was about. On the second night, for the record, there were no boos.

Any inward groans at the sight of a nicely blurred photographic projection of the Houses of Parliament with attendant crowd-control cops, or at the modern-dress mob pushing forward to get a glimpse of the action, remained inaudible. The roars for the two star queens, Joyce DiDonato magnificent in the title role and Carmen Giannattasio her brilliant foil as Elisabetta, nearly deafened. The orchestra, under Bertrand de Billy, offered mostly crisp ensemble and the chorus excelled. Not all the supporting cast were on top form, but the bass Matthew Rose (Talbot) enriches any performance.

DiDonato's strength lies not only in her technical wizardry but in her imaginative handling of the text. With absolute control, especially when singing softly, she can order a trill or an ornament to behave however she likes. She hits top notes with the driving power of Usain Bolt. Her boldness, her delicacy, her audacity in every part of her vocal range mesmerise. Yet above all, her humanity and musicianship win out. Giannattasio as Elisabetta has the harder job in terms, dramatically speaking, of being overshadowed by Maria, but she too showed dazzling technique and spirit. DiDonato hugged her at the curtain call, the kind of warm gesture we expect from this vastly popular performer.

Sometimes referred to as the Gilbert & George of opera, the French-Belgian duo of Leiser and Caurier have directed several successful productions for the Royal Opera House, including three Rossini comedies and Madama Butterfly. They have a regular design team and are careful in approach and detail. DiDonato has worked with them before, notably in their immaculate Barbiere di Siviglia. If, as here, the lighting seemed clumsy, leaving too much shadow where illumination was needed, it will surely have been intentional. They are too smart to be careless, even if their solutions are sometimes puzzling.

They have shuffled periods and genres, costumes and context. The two queens wear traditional gowns – the Catholic Mary in sober yet regal blue, Elizabeth in honey-bee golden brown, with huge, grotesque hooped skirts of the kind seen in the Ditchley portrait. When she walks, she wobbles like an île flottante, not inappropriate for the divine ruler of this fairest isle. Her courtiers are in modern suits and overcoats, Mary's place of imprisonment is not Fotheringhay castle but inspired by a Siberian women's camp complete with asymmetric walls (no doubt providing good support for the singers' voices), strip lighting and cell doors.

This jumbling of styles is hardly a novelty – Welsh National Opera's Maria Stuarda used a similar approach last year, all leatherette and hose – but here the contrast made a point. The taboo, the separateness, and even folly, of monarchy was underlined. The mere circumference of the costumes, Elizabeth's especially, set them apart, acting like a cordon sanitaire. When Mary, facing death, removes hers and stands in drab undergarments, the gown remains a visual reminder of her former authority, a great gash of blue silk intruding on an otherwise monochrome prison cell.

The opera itself is unbalanced, first devoted chiefly to Elizabeth, then to Mary, with much emotional intensity but little action. It offers bewitching bel canto fireworks for the two queens, with plenty of enticing music from Leicester (Ismael Jordi) and Cecil (Jeremy Carpenter), as well as some grand choruses, especially in the affecting final act.

The central event is the fictional meeting of the two queens, a figment of Schiller's imagination and a thrilling exchange between a well-matched soprano and mezzo. Here, though musically impressive, the high drama fell flat. Donizetti's score creates a nervous, fizzing, early-morning energy as the English queen, out hunting, approaches her rival. Amid the concrete and bars of this prison, that visceral mood was absent. Elizabeth sang mostly looking at the floor, her white rage almost eclipsed when Mary accuses her of being born a bastard. The action felt emotionally eclipsed. Luckily the energy and passion came from the singers in miraculous compensation. Worth gluing yourself to Radio 3 for the live broadcast tomorrow night.

The UK's first New Music Biennial, free and organised by the PRS for Music, took place at the Southbank over three days last weekend, presenting 20 pieces of music, each performed twice, with a repeat weekend in Glasgow in August and broadcasts on Radio 3. I sampled three events. Panning for Gold by Alistair Anderson, commissioned by the Sage Gateshead and featuring a steel band, clog dance and concertina, proved so charming and uplifting it made you want to dance. A Royal Philharmonic Society commission, Dobrinka Tabakova's Pulse, with film noir by Ruth Paxton and using gamelan, piano and percussion, confirmed the talent of this young British composer: one to watch.

Gift, by Jez Colborne, commissioned by the learning disability theatre company Mind the Gap, required audience members to be locked in a darkened shipping container under Hungerford Bridge while dancers jumped on the roof until you feared it would fall in. As the doors closed and the exuberant, rhythmic music blasted out, sending vibrations through your body, the rest of the nation was watching those other two royal rivals, Federer and Djokovic, hammer it out on Centre Court. I am not saying my experience was better or worse, but it certainly shook the living daylights out of me.

Star ratings (out of 5)
Maria Stuarda ***
New Music Biennial ****