More than 60% of women murdered in this country die at the hands of a current or former partner, and one in four women in the UK will experience domestic abuse in their lifetime. Stark figures that audiences should bear in mind if they are tempted to be shocked by Opera Holland Park's visceral depiction of male rage in its new production of Leoncavallo's Pagliacci.
The brash Canio runs a broken theatre company in struggling post-war southern Italy. Although he looks like a jovial clown on the outside, he can change into a violent, controlling brute in a second. He correctly suspects that his wife, Nedda, is having an affair and wants to leave him, something his wild jealousy will not allow. Their desperate situation erupts in the pathetic little comedy they stage, in which fiction and reality collide, leading to a shockingly violent conclusion.
The admirably clear direction leaves no room for sentiment: violence against women is still as great a plague today as it was in 1892.
The brilliant tenor David Butt Philip excels as Canio, wild-eyed and desperate, cruel and vengeful, his performance leaves no room for sympathy. Even in his beautifully sung, self-pitying Vesti la giubba we can't feel sorry for this monster. But it's such an overwhelming performance, it casts a shadow over the other leads and throws them off balance. Alison Langer is a very likeable Nedda, Robert Hayward repulsive as Tonio, feeble Tshabalala slim as Beppe and Harry Thatcher strong as the lover Silvio - but they both seem inferior next to Butt Philip.
There is some magnificent work from the choir, and the City of London Sinfonia is in top form under the inspired leadership of Francesco Cilluffo. Martin Lloyd-Evans's admirably clear direction leaves no room for sentiment: violence against women is as much a plague today as it was when this piece was first performed in 1892.
The evening begins with a complete contrast, the welcome revival of Ermanno Wolf-Ferrari's one-act play The lord of Susanna, first seen at OHP in 2019 in John Wilkie's hilarious production. Jealousy is the theme here too, but this time it's ridiculous, as Count Gil (the ineradicable Richard Burkhard) suspects his new wife, Susanna (Clare Presland), of infidelity after smelling cigarette smoke in their luxury apartment. The superb comic timing of John Savournin, in the silent role of the servant Sante, is a joy to watch as he tries to prevent the Count from discovering that the secret smoker is Susanna herself. There's an equal amount of humour from the well, as Wolf-Ferrari's score sparkles with references to Mozart, Debussy and Strauss, deftly handled by conductor John Andrews.
Schubert's wonderfully expressive song cycle Winter trip continues to inspire new interpretations and adaptations. Earlier this year, for example, tenor Allan Clayton appeared in a large-scale dramatization with Aurora Orchestra; last fall, soprano Juliane Banse sang and danced it at the Oxford International Song Contest; and five years ago, bass Matthew Rose sat on a barstool beside a piano and poured his heart out in a dimly lit Pizza Express. Now we have another reinterpretation: Spring snow, a striking fusion of Schubert and Japanese kabuki theatre, which premiered last week in North Yorkshire at the innovative and ever-expanding Ryedale Festival.
The collaboration between mezzo-soprano Fleur Barron, pianist Julius Drake, actor-dancer Suleiman Suleiman and shamisen player Hibiki Ichikawa has resulted in a moving piece of intercultural music theatre of astonishing power. The piece draws on the undeniable parallels between Schubert's lost wanderer and Kabuki's preoccupation with the trials of love and grief.
Their research revealed Jasuna, an 1818 kabuki play that shares many of the themes of Wilhelm Müller's poetry of lost love, so evocatively rendered by Schubert. The drama was set on a stage adorned with only a single red and gold kimono. The plaintive strings of Ichikawa's shamisen cut through the air like a knife, while Suleiman danced in stylized gestures and Barron sang haiku in Japanese. Almost imperceptibly, Ichikawa passed the musical baton to Drake, and the soft opening bars of Gute Nacht, the first number in the Winter trip cycle, came into being as if in a dream.
We were immediately captivated by Barron's magnetic abandon. As the (incomplete) cycle progressed, she sang with increasing conviction, tears flowing; her grief, so boldly expressed in song, mirrored by Suleiman in dance. As the hero of Jasuna he is consumed by the loss of his beloved Sakaki, and is driven to suicide by her evil stepmother.
On an emotional level, this pairing made perfect sense. Musically, it was less successful, the minor similarities in rhythm and melody between the two styles not being substantial enough to create a fully convincing cultural bridge. As a display of bold artistic imagination, it could hardly be surpassed.
The Church of St Peter and St Paul in North Yorkshire, Pickering, is home to one of the most dramatic sets of medieval wall paintings in Britain, brought to life around 1450. In a running newsreel, St George slays his dragon, Salome dances, St Edmund is martyred, Christ is crucified. One scene is dominated by the mouth of a huge dragon, representing the jaws of Hell.
Exciting pianist Giorgi Gigashvili drove his audience straight to those demonic depths with his searing rendition of Prokofiev's Sonata No. 7 in B-flat, an angry and notoriously challenging 1942 war piece that demanded technical brilliance, especially in the terrifying final movement, in which Gigashvili made the menacing, rising minor third figure in the left hand feel like a flaring toothache.
He is a fascinating artist, who started as a pop singer and won awards The voice in his native Georgia when he was just 13. Martha Argerich saw his promise as a pianist and now he is a BBC New Generation artist. In his carefully curated festival programme he caressed Brahms's Three Intermezzi Op. 117 and Ravel's ecstatic Sonatina with great finesse, but it is the moments of sheer violence that will linger longest, especially Georgian-Israeli Josef Bardanashvili's tumultuous Postlude, a breakneck race towards catastrophe. Tune in from 23 September on BBC Sounds, but wear a tin hat.
Star Ratings (out of five)
The Mysterious of Susanna ★★★★★ ★★★★
Spring snow ★★★★
Giorgi Gigashvili ★★★★★
* I am divorced from Susanna/Pagliacci can be seen at Opera Holland Park, London until August 3
