The Importance of Being Articulate

Commissioned by and originally published on Mumbai Theatre Guide here:
http://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/reviews/the-importance-of-being-earnest-english-play-review.asp

Oscar Wilde: The Importance of Being Earnest

Director: Jeff Goldberg

Royal Opera House, 4 March 2018.

Oscar Wilde’s “The Importance of Being Earnest” is probably the playwright’s most famous play; and the quintessential Victorian “comedy of manners”. Apart from taking a satirical look at the superficiality and pretensions of British society at the turn of the century, it is also a supremely elegant piece of writing in Wilde’s epigrammatic fashion, peppered with delicious witticisms.

A successful staging of this warhorse demands, above all, an awareness of the correct style required. Jeff Goldberg’s production seems to be confused about what that is. The director is sometimes able to invest the comedic happenings onstage with a civilised grace; but the proceedings soon degenerate into loud, broad farce. Movement and blocking are often clumsy; and one wonders at the bizarre choice of keeping the butler onstage almost constantly, as it is unnecessary and uncalled-for in the script.

Moreover, this is a play that celebrates the English language and requires the words to be spoken precisely and eloquently, while maintaining a fleet, smooth tempo-rhythm. But, in this production, the actors tend to gabble through their lines with poor articulation and projection, with the result that syllables are swallowed and words become unintelligible. Many of the more famous lines are thrown away or do not have the requisite punch. And there are MANY mispronunciations of simple words, names of places and even those of the play’s own characters!

There are some edits made to the script; and while these may be noticeable to someone who knows the play, in general the cuts do not bleed. However, several memorable lines are missing; and this robs the script of colour. The three acts have been compressed into two (which is often done) but the interval comes at an odd point: instead of happening after Act 1 which is set in a London flat, it occurs unnaturally in the middle of Act 2 which is played, along with Act 3, in a country-house. The two butlers, each belonging to one of these establishments, have been cleverly combined into a single character, which works…somewhat.

Perhaps the truest acting in this production comes from Takshay Tarneja as John Worthing, the play’s protagonist. Although he is somewhat pallid, he does no wrong and somehow manages to convey the character’s essence quite consistently. A greater contrast could not be imagined than with Shreyas Porus Pardiwalla’s Algernon, who is spirited and flamboyant but a little too campy and overtly farcical, playing to the galleries. As for their sweethearts: Taniya Kalra’s Gwendolen looks the part but is under-characterised, while Pashmina Roshan is charming and vivacious as Cecily but often so indistinct in her speech that she cannot be understood.

Neeti Singhi in the role of Lady Bracknell (made immortal by Dame Edith Evans) is young for the part but tries to carry it off with an imperious manner, although her intentions are compromised by unfocussed execution. Helen Absalom as Miss Prism looks the right age and initially promises a vividly-projected characterisation; but this quickly becomes grossly and irritatingly overdone. Sankalp Joshi as Dr. Chasuble is too youthful to be her romantic interest; and Ankit Narang as the butler speaks and walks in a strange, contrived way.

The production’s design is minimalistic and quite effective, but with a couple of glaring flaws: a painted, oversized clock displaying a constant time; and a roaring fireplace depicted by a large, static photograph. The women’s costumes are pretty and appropriate but those of the men leave a lot to be desired, with wrong jackets and a towelled bathrobe (worn by Algernon) in which no self-respecting Victorian gentleman would have ever received guests.

On the whole, the production leaves one with strong, mixed feelings. On the one hand, it is heartening to see a group of young actors trying their best to pay homage to the classics. On the other, one realises that if THIS is currently their best, they have a long, long way to go. And what is needed is an awareness of higher standards, with better and more intensive training to achieve them.

Lovely recital but a mish-mashed program.

Commissioned by and originally posted on Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2018/02/a-marvellous-song-recital-by-baritone-benjamin-appl/

Song Recital – Benjamin Appl (baritone), Simon Lepper (piano), Experimental Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, 18.2.2018. (JSM).

Schumann – Widmung

Britten – The Foggy, Foggy Dew

Poulenc – L’offrande

Hahn – À Chloris

Grieg – Lauf der Welt

R. Strauss – Geduld

Mendelssohn – Auf Flügeln des Gesanges

Schubert – Seligkeit

                  Ständchen

Finzi – It was a lover and his lass

Britten – The Salley Gardens

Poulenc – La maîtresse volage

Wolf – Hoffärtig seid ihr schönes Kind

Grieg – Zur Rosenzeit

R. Strauss – Morgen

Wolf – Wir haben beide Zeit geschweigen

             Begegnung

Schumann – Du bist wie eine Blume

Brahms – Sonntag

R. Strauss – Du meines Herzens Krönelein

Vaughan Williams – Silent Noon

Schubert – Die Taubenpost

Brahms – Wiegenlied

Schubert – Erlkönig

Wolf – An die Geliebte

Schubert – Der Tod und das Mädchen

Loewe – Süßes Begräbnis

R. Strauss – Allerseelen

Grieg – Ein Traum

Schubert – Wandrers Nachtlied II (encore)

           

This Sunday afternoon recital in Mumbai by the young German baritone Benjamin Appl was a potpourri of songs in three languages and in widely-differing styles by various composers. These were loosely strung together as individual pieces rather than in groups, with the unifying concept of depicting a tragic love-story, or so we were told, but the idea was stretched too thin to be convincing. However, the sequence of songs, particularly in the programme’s second half, did not present too many musical jolts since most consecutive selections seemed matched in key, if not in kind. They were interspersed by explanations given by the singer, though mercifully these interruptions were few and not cloying.

The recital began with Schumann’s Widmung and this immediately presented the singer’s strengths and weaknesses. There was an innate musicality in everything he did, aided by prodigious breath-control and a wonderful sense of legato, also heard to great effect later in Mendelssohn’s Auf Flügeln des Gesanges. He did seem to have some difficulty in songs with a very low tessitura and, more often than not, his softer tones seemed to have insufficient breath-support thus lacking a certain roundness, for instance in Brahms’ Wiegenlied. However, dynamic markings of mezzoforte and above found him singing out with clarion voice and flawless attack.

Herr Appl excelled in expression. There was no doubt that he felt and understood the songs deeply; and spared no effort in conveying this to the audience. One might say he did, on occasion, over-interpret the songs; but never self-consciously. Better a little too much than too little. A prime example of this was Schubert’s Ständchen, which began with the singer taking expressive liberties with line and rhythm but ended with an unforgettable beglücke mich.

The concert’s highlights included Geduld and Morgen by Richard Strauss, the former sung with vivid word-painting, the latter floated magically with iridescent accompaniment by Simon Lepper. Erlkönig was given a powerhouse performance, the four voices clearly demarcated, with perhaps the most thrilling rendition of the words “so brauch’ ich Gewalt” that this critic has ever heard. However, Mr. Lepper was too loud in the early part of this song, nearly drowning-out the singer (the piano was kept wide-open throughout the recital) though elsewhere he was unfailingly sensitive and ideally supportive.

On the whole then, a marvellous recital and a Sunday afternoon well-spent. However, one wishes the organisers (the National Centre for the Performing Arts in Mumbai) had presented a more consistent and better arranged programme, rather than this mish-mash. Especially since the audience would applaud after each song, until the singer politely requested them not to!

A Flawed Yet Promising Recital by Baritone Sergio Vitale

The much-awaited opera duo recital planned by the NCPA, featuring the soprano Rosa Feola and baritone Sergio Vitale, left many people disappointed because the soprano had taken ill.
Which was a pity because she seemed to be the better of the two, as one could surmise from clips on Youtube!
Anyway the guy managed to hold the evening together...though one wished the accompanist were better.


An edited version of the following review is printed on Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/08/a-flawed-yet-promising-recital-by-baritone-sergio-vitale/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).


Opera Recital – Sergio Vitale (baritone), Fabio Centanni (piano), Tata Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, 8.8.2017. (JSM).
Mozart – Le Nozze di Figaro: Hai già vinta la causa
Bellini – I Puritani: Ah! per sempre io ti perdei
Rossini – Il barbiere di Siviglia: Largo al factotum
Liszt – Mephisto Waltz no:1
Donizetti – Don Pasquale: Bella siccome un angelo
Verdi – Falstaff: Ehi! Paggio!...L’onore! Ladri; Ehi! Taverniere! Mondo ladro
Tosti – ’A vuchhella

On account of a sudden deterioration in the health of soprano Rosa Feola, this concert, which was supposed to be an opera duo, became a solo recital by baritone Sergio Vitale accompanied by pianist Fabio Centanni.

Mr. Vitale’s programme ran the gamut of the baritone repertoire, from Figaro to Falstaff. “Work-in-progress” he announced modestly before one of the pieces; and this term could well be used to describe his singing as a whole.

The opening Mozart aria immediately conveyed his strengths and limitations: a full, rounded tone in the middle voice but strained at both extremes; genuine musicality compromised by imperfect execution of bel canto ornamentation and passage-work; an ability to communicate character and emotion when unencumbered by too much musical effort.

The aria from I Puritani fared better, as the baritone attempted sustaining a clean Bellinian line. However, his technical shortcomings were more exposed here, as later in the Donizetti, including a tendency to lunge at high notes from below (especially in upward-moving passages) and intonation that was somewhat suspect, often being just under true pitch.

Mr. Vitale lightened his tone (as he should) for Rossini’s Figaro, whose Largo al factotum was given with impish, infectious joie de vivre and a fine command of patter-singing. But the baritone cracked on the top G; and this highlighted his overall difficulty with high tessitura.

Fortunately, he came into his own as Verdi’s Falstaff, whose arias were a last-minute addition to the programme. From his first cry of Ehi! Paggio! it became evident that the singer was in his element and this role was a perfect fit, vocally and temperamentally. Falstaff’s Act 1 monologue was delivered with immense chutzpah and vivid word-painting; his Act 3 musing on the vagaries of the world was appropriately introspective.

The baritone ended the recital with the popular Neapolitan song ’A vuchhella. Here his innate musicality and good intentions, undermined by flawed vocalism, were all too apparent.

Fabio Centanni’s accompaniment was too loud, often drowning out the singer. It made one wonder why the piano was kept wide open and not on short-stick. His single solo, Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz no: 1, was clangy and fatiguing.

The concert was an interesting introduction to a young singer. If his Falstaff is anything to go by, and with some work on vocal technique, he has the potential of a richly promising career.

Return of the Royal

Bombay's old opera house has now been restored to its past glory.
It has played host to plays (including those staged by Prithviraj Kapoor's Prithvi Theatre) and later became a cinema house...famous for the long runs enjoyed by many of the movies screened there.
My mother's family lived in the building right behind the theatre; and she had told me how the Kapoors used to borrow flower-pots from them for the plays. Since she was pretty and an accomplished Indian classical dancer, they even offered her a role in their movie "Barsaat"! My grandfather said NO...and the role was eventually played by Nimmi.
As a child, when I visited my grandparents' home for dinner, I remember being able to hear bits of the late night movie-show; and saw a fair number of films in the Opera House. Although it was not air-conditioned, the theatre was still a great place for movies.


An edited version of the following article was published by Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/07/the-royal-opera-house-in-mumbai-is-restored-to-its-former-glory/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).

Inaugurated in 1911 by King George V, the Royal Opera House in Bombay (now called Mumbai) was the only one of its kind in this part of the world.

During the early part of the last century, it played host to performances of opera; and thereafter to plays and concerts of both Indian and Western music. It was modified in 1935 to allow cinema; and, in this avatar, eventually became one of the most famous movie palaces in Bombay screening Bollywood hits, many of which ran for over a year.

After its closure in 1993, the building was in a state of dilapidation. Since it was deemed a “heritage” structure, the government initiated a project of restoration in 2008, in collaboration with an Indian royal family who are the current owners of the opera house.

The restoration was carried-out by an Indian conservation-architect, with painstaking attention to Baroque detail, preserving the ornate carvings, paintings and embellishments in the auditorium and its foyer, returning the Italian marble and crystal chandeliers to their former glory.

The auditorium of the opera-house, with its colour-scheme of red, cream and gold, bears a faint resemblance (perhaps not surprisingly) to that of its namesake in London. In fact, it could well be seen as a miniature of the latter, although the pit here is covered and under the stage, not open and in front of the proscenium. The theatre has two balconies and 574 seats; the boxes on the side are now merely decorative, though there still are four “Royal boxes” at the rear of the stalls.

The covered pit is small indeed, perhaps too small, capable of accommodating only twenty musicians, with a wooden shell behind. Extending it to the front could only be achieved after extensive restructuring, which may not be in keeping with the priorities of restoration. However, this obviously restricts the kind of repertoire that could be staged here successfully, which would probably be limited to works with light scoring (or can be managed with pared-down orchestration) such as Baroque opera, some Mozart and lightweight bel canto…or perhaps operetta.

Another drawback is the newly-installed air-conditioning, which blows air into the auditorium with an audible “whoosh” rather than letting it drop down noiselessly. In practice, however, one gets used to this sound which makes its presence felt only during softer music.

The auditorium’s most significant strength is its acoustic: lush, warm and very kind to voices. These are given somewhat more prominence over the orchestra, which is not surprising, considering the limited number of players in the pit. One would imagine it is an easy space for singers, who would conceivably require less effort to project fuller tone.

The stage itself is quite adequate, having decent depth and width; and with a modern lighting system. In fact, ever since its re-opening in October 2016, the opera-house has been used to stage several plays; and is slowly becoming recognised as a viable venue by theatre groups in the city.

Now, for the first time in nearly a century, the house is back to its original purpose with the staging of a full-length opera, Il Matrimonio Segreto by Cimarosa. Since the house doesn’t have its own opera company, this was presented by the Giving Voice Society, an organisation headed by the Indian-born soprano, Patricia Rozario. She and her husband, pianist Mark Troop, visit India thrice a year to conduct intensive workshops for local singers; and thus provide a much-needed service, considering the paucity of voice-teachers in this country.

The opera was given a more than competent performance by Ms Rozario’s students and other singers of Indian origin. The staging was minimalistic, updating the action to what looked like a fin de siècle scenario.

One is happy to know that Giving Voice is not the only group staging opera with home-grown performers. The Neemrana Foundation has been doing so for some time now, presenting operas with Indian themes or about the Indian sub-continent (including a superb Les Pêcheurs des Perles). Late last year, they staged a delectable potpourri of excerpts from such works right here, in the Royal Opera House, Mumbai. It is good to see these organisations take the time, money and effort to nurture and develop local talent, unlike others with far greater resources who prefer instead to import from abroad.

The ROHM has to be a multi-purpose theatre by way of necessity, since opera alone would not be sufficient for it to sustain itself, at the moment. Until that day arrives, it is a much-needed addition to this city’s cultural life, which has been trying to overcome a near-monopolistic situation.

So its welcome back, indeed.

Opera Gala and Bombay's Boheme.

In February 2017, the NCPA presented a season of operatic performances, including two concerts and a production called "La Boheme Revisited". I attended the first Gala...which was mediocre; and the opening night of the opera proper...which was "ingenious" in the wrong way!
Both reviews were commissioned by Seen and Heard International and were combined into one. They can be found here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/02/new-reviews-of-opera-in-mumbai-a-gala-and-la-boheme-revisited/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).
Readers are welcome to draw their own conclusions from the reviews...and leave comments!

Who’s Scared of Opera?

Published in "Mumbai Mirror" 6 February 2017

The high notes, the foreign languages and clans of obsessed aficionados have endowed opera with a mystique, tinged with fear, in the minds of many. Which is unwarranted because opera is, quite simply, music-drama; the precursor of the Broadway musical. And today, with so much opera available on video, subtitled in English, there is even less reason to be intimidated by it.

What makes opera different? The style of singing. In musicals, singers are (usually) supported by electronic amplification to fill the theatre; in opera, the singer relies on his/her own body, fueled by immense reserves of breath, to provide the necessary power and resonance to ride over a 100-piece orchestra and fill a 2000-seat opera-house! An operatic voice may thus, at first, sound artificial but can be very thrilling, especially on those high notes and in music which demands great vocal agility in executing tricky runs and leaps, much like the taan-s of an Indian classical vocalist.

Indeed, older operas made great demands on a singer’s vocal technique; and were somewhat stylised and predictable in their musical language. Plots were initially drawn from Classical literature and mythology, eventually giving way to more contemporary sources and melodic invention. Novels and plays by authors as diverse as Beaumarchais, Sir Walter Scott, Schiller, Dumas and Shakespeare were shaped into singing-texts; the characters became flesh-and-blood, the music more “natural” and free-flowing.

Mozart was perhaps the first composer to attempt the above; but the 19^th Century saw the resurgence of florid style, which came to be called bel canto (literally “beautiful singing”) and in which the performer reigned supreme. These operas served as showcases for the human voice; and singers often took liberties with the music to interpolate ever more dazzling displays of vocal virtuosity. Foremost among the composers in this genre were Bellini, Donizetti and Rossini.

Then came the Italian maestro Giuseppe Verdi, whose operas with their emphasis on melody and humanity changed the course of opera forever. He is probably the most influential operatic composer, along with his German contemporary, Richard Wagner, whose later works are said to be the foundation of modern music; and whose mantle was carried forward into the 20^th century by his compatriot, Richard Strauss.

Italian opera soon embraced an entirely Romantic idiom. Here passions were palpable, inflected with poetry. The orchestral palette became full-blooded and highly expressive of emotions; the vocal style commensurately full-throttle, “beautiful singing” for its own sake being replaced by an all-encompassing, musico-dramatic rendition of the words and notes. The plots were earthy, the people generally drawn from everyday life; and this was called Verismo (or realism). Foremost among its practitioners was Giacomo Puccini, who became (like Verdi before him) the most representative Italian operatic composer of his time.

And in all this, the French weren’t far behind. They had a rich tradition of opera through the centuries, culminating in the works of Jules Massenet and Georges Bizet. His “Carmen” is perhaps the most popular opera of all, even though it was a flop when it premièred.

Any exploration of opera should probably begin with “Carmen”. This is because it is actually (in today’s parlance) musical-theatre, the music being interspersed with spoken dialogue. The opera has been adapted countless times into dance, film and drama; and various milieus, including a Mumbai nightclub. Its title-character is well-known: a free-spirited gypsy who believes “Love is a rebellious bird”. The setting is Spain (with a bullfight happening offstage during the final scene) and the music is visceral yet melodious. The ideal way to get to know the opera is through the stunning film by Francesco Rosi, shot on location but faithful to the music, with an amazingly vivid performance by the soprano Julia Migenes-Johnson who literally lives the title-role (and sings quite well too!) partnered by a young Plácido Domingo.

Next would be “La Bohème” by Puccini. Set in fin-de-siècle Paris, in a Bohemian society of struggling writers, artists and musicians, this love-story is poignant and true; and the music is sheer, unabashed lyricism. The performance of choice would be from the Metropolitan Opera, in the production by Franco Zeffirelli, recorded in 1982. Teresa Stratas and José Carreras are perfectly cast as the lovers; and the staging is immensely atmospheric, virtually recreating the Latin Quarter of Paris. An excellent alternative would be the production from the Sydney Opera House, directed by Baz Luhrmann, which updates the action to post-war Paris and is extremely moving.

Continuing in the Parisian locale, we come to Verdi’s “La Traviata” based on Alexandre Dumas Jr’s novel “La Dame aux Camélias”. This was also an initial flop, because it was considered too unconventional in its contemporary (for its time) setting and its heroine Violetta, the “fallen woman” of the title, who is a high-class courtesan. The opera is reborn in the truly brilliant modern staging by Willy Decker at the Salzburg Festival, stripping the drama down to its raw essentials, most chillingly. Anna Netrebko is utterly riveting and vital as Violetta, both physically and vocally; so is Rolando Villazón as her lover.

Then there is Rossini’s “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” (The Barber of Seville) a comic opera in the bel canto tradition. Apart from having some of the most charming, lilting music ever written (with plenty of opportunities for gifted singers to strut their vocal stuff) it can also be extremely funny…if done right. Which is certainly the case in the production by Bartlett Sher at the Metropolitan Opera, with incredible singing by Joyce DiDonato and Juan Diego Flórez; and Peter Mattei’s engaging performance in the title-role of Figaro. This is (as yet) only available for streaming from metopera.org; but an excellent alternative would be the lovely film by Jean-Pierre Ponnelle, starring Hermann Prey as Figaro.

Having started with the operas listed above, there is always the possibility of exploring more by the same or other composers. Whichever you choose, if you love music and the theatre, you are in for a treat…and one that is pleasantly addictive.

So take the plunge…and enjoy!

Sweeney Todd

This is the text (with some edits) of a lecture given at the American Center in Bombay many years ago, prior to the video-screening of a stage production of "Sweeney Todd".
Music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, directed by Harold Prince, starring Angela Lansbury and George Hearn.

“Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd!

His skin was pale and his eye was odd;

He shaved the faces of gentlemen

Who never thereafter were heard of again.

He trod a path that few have trod,

Did Sweeney Todd,

The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

He kept a shop in London town

Of fancy clients and good renown;

And what if none of their souls were saved,

They went to their Maker impeccably shaved

By Sweeney,

By Sweeney Todd:

The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.”

What a charming introduction! You can hardly wait to meet the man, I’m sure! And you do soon enough, for he joins in with the Chorus and principal cast members in this opening number of the musical, addressing the audience, Brechtian-style.

Who exactly is Sweeney Todd? Man or myth? Actually, a little of both. He made his first appearance in a short story entitled “The String of Pearls” written by one Thomas Prest; and serialised in a cheap newspaper, a “penny dreadful” as they were called, in London in 1846. Mr. Prest used to search the news for his story ideas; and it’s possible he drew inspiration from recent gruesome happenings --- most notably of a barber near Fleet Street who cut a customer’s throat in a jealous rage, believing the latter to be having an adulterous relationship with his wife; next, a Scotsman called Sawney Bean, who was probably one of the most successful serial-killers of all time, being known to have murdered around 160 passers-by and then eaten the corpses, in collaboration with his family; and, most significantly, the chronicles of Joseph Fouche, the Minister of Police in Paris around 1800, who wrote of a barber who killed his customers and supplied their bodies to a neighbouring pastry-cook, to be served-up as pies. Similarly, Todd’s accomplice is Mrs. Lovett, who runs an eatery and cooks his victims.

The story had many subsequent avatars. In earlier versions, Mrs. Lovett was a reluctant or oblivious accessory; and one of Todd’s early victims --- in fact, in George Dibdin Pitt’s melodrama “The Fiend of Fleet Street” (which had a long and successful run) she herself was disposed of, halfway through the play.

It was the British playwright Christopher Bond who lifted this story from the realms of gruesome Grand Guignol and sensationalist melodrama; and gave the characters psychological resonance and motivation, in his play “Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street” which opened in 1973 at the Theatre Royal, Stratford East. This was seen by Stephen Sondheim, who commissioned Hugh Wheeler to adapt the script into a “book” for a musical.

In melodrama, characters are seen as either black or white. Bond made his ogre human, a man wronged by the system; sent away on a trumped-up charge to an overseas prison-colony, by a lecherous judge who coveted his wife. He returns after years, only to find she was raped by the Judge and then took poison; and his daughter in the clutches of the same Judge who now wants to marry her. When his plans for revenge fail, his mind snaps and he vows to vent his anger on the entire human race, which allows such cruelty to exist.

Luckily for him, his landlady, the pie-shop owner Mrs. Lovett whose business is failing, is only too willing to dispose of the victims expeditiously --- and profitably! She is cheerfully amoral, a cannibalistic capitalist who is actually quite lovable because she is so utterly honest --- until her own duplicity comes to light. She is also shown to have an amorous interest in Todd --- unrequited, because he is still obsessed with his wife.

And then there are the “good” characters --- Todd’s daughter Johanna, prisoner of the Judge and the archetypal damsel-in-distress; the sailor, appropriately named Anthony Hope, who saves Sweeney from shipwreck, brings him home to London and then falls in love with his captive daughter; and Tobias, Mrs. Lovett’s simple-minded helper who dotes on “Mum” and is determined to protect her from “demons” such as Sweeney.

Then there is the Beggar Woman --- a mad hag, whore and scavenger, who mysteriously appears at key moments in the plot, indicating she has a greater significance than she implies. That significance is made evident in the play’s denouement, where she becomes the embodiment of innocence defiled.

And then, there is London itself, accurately portrayed as it was in 1846, a city of crime and grime; of filthy sewers, polluted air and corrupt morals; its lawgivers as lawless as its law-breakers; the perfect Dickensian setting for this macabre tale.

Harold Prince, the director of the original production, would certainly agree. He has described his conception as “the incursion of the Industrial Age; and its influence on souls, poetry and people”. The curtain rises on a huge iron foundry, with a cloth hanging in front, depicting the British Beehive or social structure with the King at the top, the Parliament, Judiciary, Church and so on, going downwards to the lowest common denominator. An organist plays; two workmen enter and tear-down the hanging to the sound of a shrill factory-whistle, exposing a rusty world of girders, gears and overbridges. The back wall eventually rises to reveal a screen with a sketch of London at the time, Thames and all.

This was a bone of contention between Prince and Sondheim, who apparently preferred his work to be seen as a more intimate exploration of one man’s misbegotten obsession, rather than assume epic proportions. However, I think this union of universal and personal has produced a very credible love-child that defies classification; and very happily exists at whichever level you choose to look at it.

And speaking of children, seldom has a marriage of music and lyrics been so productive, because the progenitor in this case was one --- Stephen Sondheim. In writing what is perhaps his most ambitious and complex score, Sondheim matched it to coruscating, uncompromising lyrics; pithy and witty, defiant and disturbing. Music and word, music and character, music and mood, all combine to create a magnificent melange. The parts of this musical live and breathe as one; even though some of the combinations are certainly unorthodox: for example, a gang-rape to a courtly dance; the famous duet about cannibalism, crackling with black humour, to the rhythm of a Viennese waltz; graphic throat-cuttings to music of poignant lyricism. And yet, when lyricism occurs, it is ALWAYS underscored by uneasy harmony or murky underpinning, that reflects (and promotes) a feeling of something not quite right. And this feeling remains with the listener, in spite of the dips into comic patter-singing, operatic floridity and music-hall kitsch.

 

Musicians and music-lovers will marvel at the inventiveness and sheer intelligence of the writing (especially in the complex and densely-layered ensembles); would certainly recognise the influence of several 20^th Century composers; and follow the many leitmotifs floating about, subtly elucidating the drama; and ultimately revealing clues about what is hidden and what’s about to happen --- for this is, according to its creator, “a musical thriller”. The two most significant among these motifs are Sweeney’s long-lost wife’s theme; and the Dies Irae, the traditional liturgical chant from the Latin Requiem, depicting the Day of Judgement, which appears in the Prologue as the Chorus sings, “Swing your razor wide, Sweeney!” and then re-appears at appropriate moments, turning Sweeney the barber with his razor held high, into the Grim Reaper with his unwavering scythe.

Finally, and above all, there is the sound of the factory whistle that begins the play. It recurs repeatedly and frighteningly --- and becomes a shriek of terror and anguish, a war-cry and also a symbol of oppressive authority; a fitting signature to a piece that states:

“The history of the world, my sweet,

Is who gets eaten and who gets to eat…

Its man devouring man, my dear,

And who are we to deny it in here?”