<<  -- 13 --  Roderic Dunnett    WIT AND ORIGINALITY

Damian Thantrey, a capable and affable performer when imaginatively directed (Così's Gulglielmo, for instance, or Albert Herring's louche Sid; he sang the Shirley Quirk/Alan Opie multiple roles in Opera Metz's recent Death in Venice -- this fellow can clearly act) cut a very dull fish as the boorishly noble Sadik, a bit like Laurence Olivier's Mahdi without the jokes: had nobody encouraged or steered Thantrey into experimenting and exploring, so as to make Sadik come alive visually? Did he even address the problem himself?

Amy Freston is a sweet and enchanting lyric singer, whose beautiful delivery delighted every audience as the boy shepherd king in Kent Opera's fabulously designed production of Mozart's Il re pastore (a rare treat which Garsington will address next season; if only Anthony Whitworth-Jones and his team could save money (without compromising) by inviting Roger Butlin to repeat or adapt his magical pastel set and costume designs, seen by all too few within a radius of Margate in October 2004); yet some of the lovely bloom of her voice seemed missing here -- initially, anyway.

Yet Nadine's aria later in Act I, 'Ein Mädchen, die von Liebe heiss', was one of the many undoubted treats. It's astonishing to think that young fresh-out-of college lad Johann Henneberg set this on paper before Mozart had even begun The Magic Flute. It's a dead ringer for the style of The Flute -- so much so that it invites serious questions as to the nature of the popular songs and Music-Hall idiom that both composers took in hand (sort of sophisticated, earthier Beggars' Opera material).

This 'Mädchen' aria must have become popular, especially given its words, although 'A girl who, aflame with love, does not dare all for her beloved' -- as the printed translation made available with the programme has it -- seems a skimpy rendering of a delightful ditty that comes close to early Goethe or fledgling Heine:

Ein Mädchen, die von Liebe heiss
Nicht alles für den Trauten wagt,
Fühlt nie im Herzen, was sie sagt,
Ihr Inn'res bleibt so kalt wie Eis.

Die innig fühlt, was Liebe sei,
Flieht mit dem Mann in Wüstenei,
Teilt Freud und Leid mit ihm allein,
Sie stirbt für ihn, im Tode treu.

Gorgeous stuff, and immensely singable.

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