I went to see the English National Opera’s production of the Handel opera “Agrippina” last night. Although ENO stage all their stuff in English, it was only due to an astute printout from Wikipedia that I had any idea what was going on.
I won’t recount the story here, but will say that it contains more innuendo, wife swapping, eavesdropping and gossiping than any Carry On… film I can remember. It may be set in and around the political machinations of a corrupt 80’s-era Italian bureaucracy but it’s obvious that everyone here is acting on their basest instincts.
I really enjoyed the evening, but all the while I was trying to put my finger on what exactly drives people in their thousands to the opera. Is it the music? Is it the singing? The words, the story, the set? One of the most enjoyable aspects for me is the atmosphere of the occasion – the buzzing chatter in the bar and foyer, the low murmur of the audience right up until the lights go down. We smuggled in some sandwiches, but there’s also something a little bit other-worldly about silver platters of £25-a-go smoked-salmon nibbles being passed around.
I guess most enthusiasts would say that it’s a combination of all these things which makes the opera so enjoyable. As you can probably tell I’m not an expert in the genre, so won’t even bother to try a review here. The things that stodd out most for me were the gargantuan set design, all monolithic Roman pillars, granite gravestones, marble-topped bars and a magnificent revolving golden-staircase leading to the throne which so occupies the characters. Everything appeared monumental and impressive, but not to the extent that the action was dwarved in any way. Far from it – instead it added to the psychological weight of the conspiracy and subterfuge of the action. Particularly memorable were the painted backdrops particular to each act or character – a wolf being greedily suckled by two offspring for the first act, the same wolf apparently, viscerally, bled dry for the second act. And the poor love-interest Poppea gets to perform in front of a 20 metre high portrait of a naked woman.