Handel: Giulio Cesare at Glyndebourne | Live Review
Mark Pullinger
Monday, June 24, 2024
McVicar’s Giulio Cesare conquers Glyndebourne once more
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When Giulio Cesare premiered at the King’s Theatre in the Haymarket in 1724, a contemporary noted its success, describing how 'the house was just as full at the seventh performance as at the first'. Handel’s opera seria was revived three more times during the composer’s lifetime.
Glyndebourne now goes one better, reviving Sir David McVicar’s staging a fourth time. This opening night saw the production’s 50th performance here, clocking up a notable half-century. It is one of the brightest jewels in Glyndebourne’s crown. On its 2005 debut, it starred soprano Danielle de Niese as an all-singing, all-dancing Cleopatra. De Niese, who twice returned to the production here, is now the chatelaine of the estate, passing Cleopatra’s bling first to Joelle Harvey (2018) and now to Louise Alder who leads this revival, which McVicar himself has returned to direct.
Svetlina Stoyanova was a terrific Sesto, her light, bright tone...
The merits of his entertaining romp through Roman history are well rehearsed. McVicar bumps the action to the British Raj, with Caesar as an ambitious general eyeing imperial expansion, Cleopatra initially wooing him for strategic reasons. The time frame is fairly fluid – tall ships bring Caesar to Egypt, but Cleopatra’s 'Da tempeste' aria sees battleships and dirigibles looming on Alexandria’s horizon – with references to Baroque theatre practices such as the rotating wave machine. Geographically, we roam from the Ottoman Empire to Bollywood dance routine via Andrew George’s cheeky choreography.
Louise Alder as Cleopatra in Giulio Cesare | Photo credit: Richard Hubert Smith
It’s an indecent amount of fun with gags aplenty, mostly involving Cleopatra and her servant, Nireno, but McVicar doesn’t neglect the 'seria' aspect of Handel’s opera either, particularly the grief of Pompey’s widow, Cornelia, and her son Sesto’s thirst for vengeance against Tolomeo’s brutality. Brigitte Reiffenstuel’s costumes dazzle once again.
Still, a five-star production needs five-star performances to carry it off, especially in an opera where the hit ratio is ridiculously high. Thankfully, there was not a single weak link in Glyndebourne’s crack cast – all new to this production – who, under Laurence Cummings’ vivid direction, attacked their roles brilliantly, including plenty of da capo ornamentation. The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment played with verve – and nerve, in the case of heroic horn soloist Ursula Paludan Monberg, standing in the pit for 'Va tacito'. Kati Debretzeni was the on-stage violinist in 'Se in fiorito ameno prato', her stylish avian trills and twitterings echoing Cesare in witty musical byplay.
Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen as Giulio Cesare | Photo credit: Richard Hubert Smith
Louise Alder already had a special connection to this production. When it was new in 2005, her mother, Susie Carpenter-Jacobs, played in the pit, Alder in the audience. The soprano now crosses the footlights to don Cleopatra’s many gowns, singing with great distinction. Her ravishing Cleo ran the gamut of emotions through the despair of 'Se pietà' and 'Piangerò la sorte mia' in warmest voice to the immaculate machine-gun coloratura of 'Da tempeste'.
She was matched every step of the way by American countertenor Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen who sang Cesare with commanding projection and plenty of agility to negotiate Handel’s challenging runs. His aria 'Va tacito' was a delicious dance of diplomacy, masking the general’s suspicion and seething anger.
Svetlina Stoyanova was a terrific Sesto, her light, bright tone, almost more soprano than mezzo, impressing with its supple lines. She can bend a note gorgeously too. Beth Taylor’s rich mezzo, burnt caramel in colour, made for a fine contrast as a dignified Cornelia, sustaining long legato lines seamlessly. Cameron Shahbazi dispatched Tolomeo’s tantrums with fierce attack, while fellow countertenor Ray Chenez employed the pastel end of vocal palette as the effeminate Nireno. Luca Tittoto’s Achilla was sung with menace, the Italian displaying more vocal dexterity than many basses in Baroque opera, completing a knockout cast. Do I really still need to tell you to go?