Thea Musgrave’s quasi-historical prequel to Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda was staged by Leipzig Opera as recently as 2023 but this was the first opportunity in decades to see it in London. A work of the mid-1970s, its language is not inaccessible although it can be derivative. Brittenish sections were plainly indebted to the out-of-sync ‘Old Joe has gone fishing’ episode of Peter Grimes and the ‘Courtly Dances’ of Gloriana. A conspiratorial trio in which Lord Darnley is brought to a pitch of drunken paranoia by Morton and Ruthven was a more Verdian inspiration in Act 2. At the start of Act 3 a ‘proper’ lullaby finally introduced a lyrical element into the sometimes shouty sequence of regal dalliances and betrayals. Only it lacked the melodic memorability of a Jenufa.
ENO’s economical co-production with San Francisco Opera, set not in some late-medieval castle but in permutations of a half-built marquee, was never going to help much. Typically, a de-glamourized municipal reception with on-stage band passed for a palatial ballroom. Lighting felt rudimentary. Most problematic was the disavowal of period costumes. If a tale of power, treachery, passion and murder was meant to re-emerge as a thoughtful exposé of misogynistic behaviour in our own time, the plan was perhaps bound to fail. Mary’s autocratic determination to rule entirely alone felt merely petulant (more Margaret Thatcher than Elizabeth Tudor), short-circuiting her sympathetic pleas for peace and unity. Nobility and peasants looked essentially alike as if they’d brought in random apparel from home. That said, the production was fluid, the action fairly bowling along, a tribute to Thea Musgrave’s skill and experience in the medium.
This is very much a company show and the singing from chorus and principals was thrillingly committed, the one-dimensional nature of the characters a perhaps inevitable consequence of the narrative’s forward thrust. The prima donna-ish Mary, a more equivocal, vulnerable figure in this retelling, was incarnated by Heidi Stober, an American interloper. Slight of frame she maintained vocal strength and a distinctive stage presence until the very end, her few distorted vowels easily overlooked. Home grown talent included John Findon and Alex Otterburn, past beneficiaries of the specialist coaching, support and guidance of ENO’s Harewood Artists programme. Sexagenarian bass-baritone Alistair Miles was on hand too, luxury casting still as a resonant Lord Gordon. Joana Carneiro conducted well without playing up the local Scottish colour in what may be a more deftly detailed orchestral backcloth than came across on the night. Again, the production provided no assistance.
The composer, aged 96 and long domiciled in the US, was present in the stalls to acknowledge enthusiastic applause. There is only one further performance on 18 February, another sad sign of straightened times.
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