Der Rosenkavalier, Glyndebourne, opera review: 'Perversely cast'

 

Michael Church
Monday 19 May 2014 16:14 BST
Comments
The Marschallin (Kate Royal) and Octavian (Tara Erraught) in Der Rosenkavalier
The Marschallin (Kate Royal) and Octavian (Tara Erraught) in Der Rosenkavalier (Bill Cooper)

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

Der Rosenkavalier is a rather irritating Viennese farce with a profound rumination on love threaded through it.

The Marschallin is infatuated with sexy young Octavian half her age, and is tormented by the knowledge that he must move on: in a final act of renunciation, she blesses his union with a suitable girl.

But the casting in Richard Jones’s new production perversely distorts this relationship. In the post-coital opening scene, Kate Royal, his Marschallin, stands stark naked and statuesque under the shower while Octavian gazes at her, transfixed by her virginal beauty.

Since this Octavian (Tara Erraught) has the demeanour of a scullery-maid, and since the two seem so alike in age, you’d say it was a torrid lesbian affair.

Thus skewed, the central drama fires only fitfully, but Lars Woldt’s exuberant Baron Ochs and Michael Kraus’s nobly-sung Faninal infectiously animate the surrounding foolery which - thanks to brilliant lighting, sets, costumes, and movement-direction - transpires in an infantile Freudian dream-world.

The evening’s more solid virtues include Teodora Gheorghiu’s doll-like Sophie ensuring that the juvenile romance comes off sweetly, and Royal singing her great aria about the mystery of time with exquisite grace. Supported by Robin Ticciati in the pit, the closing soprano trio – with Erraught successfully rising to the challenge - attains the hoped-for transcendence.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in