⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Vestal Julia is difficult operatic heroine to empathise with. She only has one thing to do, ensure the sacred flame keeps burning, but she canoodles with a Roman soldier and guess what... Credit to director Lydia Steier for making the drama so galvanising. In an interview Steier explained ‘we are depicting a version of now...of France’. She plunged us into a dystopia, visually a blend of Fascism, Catholic iconography and suppression of female identity in formulaic Handmaid’s Tale vestments for the Vestals. Steier chose the amphitheatre of the Sorbonne, recognisable as a seat of enlightened learning, to inspire a stupendous set (Etienne Pluss) in which to place her autocratic nightmare. As she enquires, ‘what happens when the middle falls out and all we have is violence or god?’ The Souverain Pontife and Grande Vestale rule with cruelty: disobedience is punished with death, corpses are strung upside down against a wall, the eternal flame burns with banned literature and the populace is controlled by fear of church and state. Julia and lover Licinius are doomed until redeemed by a miracle – an enormous statue of the Virgin Mary – and leave full of hope as the Grande Vestale is dethroned and bundled offstage and the Pontiff expires. But a blast of machine gun is heard, and as Licinius’s wingman Cinna seizes the crown we are left with the bleak image of the suspended corpses of Julia, Licinius and the  Grande Vestale. Steier ingeniously used some of the ballet for the finale (with virtuosic harp playing).

​Michael Spyres (Licinius) and ensemble in Spontini's La Vestale at Opéra National de Paris | Photo credit: Guergana Damianova​​​

The title role is relentless and Elza van den Heever scored a triumph. Her soprano is voluminous and plush at full pelt but she can hone it down to a whisper, and she moulds Spontini’s Classical lines meticulously. She is a detailed actress, indefatigable in her depth and honesty of emotion. Michael Spyres used his baritone as Licinius, rich and clear, leaving the tenor lines to Julien Behr’s Cinna, slightly subsumed by the orchestra at times. Ève-Maud Hubeaux flung her focused mezzo out with relish, looking sharp of cheekbone and shoulder pad. Jean Teitgen’s bass made the Souverain Pontife sound almost noble. Bertrand de Billy had a field day in the pit. The orchestra played with verve, the woodwind and brass scoring coming through particularly excitingly, and he marshalled his vast forces with impressive skill – the vocal ensembles require huge coordination. Talking of which, Ching-lien Wu’s chorus was stupendous, magnificent in its wall of sound and detail. Steier astutely gave the last word to Voltaire – ‘Le fanatisme est un monstre qui ose se dire le fils de la religion/fanaticism is monster that dares to call itself the son of religion’. Timely, as France went to the polls the following day.

Until 11 July | more info here