What we call “Purcell’s The Fairy Queen” was a theatrical collaboration for which Purcell “merely” wrote the music. Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream was rewritten for the taste of Restoration England, adding characters and spectacle. As a “semi-opera” there was a company of actors performing the spoken play, and added musical masques (songs, dances, choruses, fancy sets and machines) for each act, with a separate set of singers and dancers. This was distinct from continuously sung Italian opera. So what to do with The Fairy Queen today?
For Longborough Festival Opera, director Polly Graham writes of three principles of her production; “return to Shakespeare’s original text, explore ways we could weave music through the action, and work with musicians as theatrical performers.” This turned semi-opera into “three-quarters opera”, banishing the strict distinction between spoken drama and musical additions, though much speech remained, as in the rustic’s play. This format worked, retaining the variety of the original concept. Indeed the abundance of directorial ideas – or the lack of a central defining one – may be the weak point of the production.
Among all this artifice, nature has her say. The work contains not only a magical wood but a song sequence for the seasons and a hymn to the sun. Imperilled nature featured too, the evening opening with a politico at a microphone decrying “climate alarmism”, which brought some eco-warriors chanting into the auditorium. There was a reprise of this theme at the end, and earlier an ailing globe made an appearance on a hospital trolley, perhaps a knowing cross-reference to the season’s new L’Orfeo for Longborough regulars. Nate Gibson’s set was split level with theme park detritus such as a giant ice cream cone, and a large ride-on swan which served as a bed for the sleeping Titania and “translated” Bottom.
Costumes were contemporary, often adorned with sparkling garments and accessories. The two male lovers spent much of the show dressed only from the waist down. The stage business was sometimes overdone, Thisbe blinded by an ill-fitting wig a particular irritant. But the dramatic tone was coherent, managing the abrupt switches between solemn and silly in this “lamentable comedy”.
Musical direction was shared between Harry Sever, conductor and accordionist, and Naomi Burrell, whose violin playing was mostly onstage with her instrumentalist colleagues. Sever and Burrell also undertook the musical arrangement, sufficiently respectful of Purcell’s score to content all but purists. Whether the score was lamenting, loving or laughing, it was expertly delivered by the small band. The string playing both solo and in combination was superb, as were the martial musicians, trumpeter Adrian Woodward sounding his Baroque instrument fearlessly, while percussionist Bernhard Schimpelsberger drew rhythmic thunder from Purcellian-looking kettledrums perched high onstage.
The singing though was rather mixed. Semi-operas sometimes used singing actors, but The Fairy Queen featured professional singers, so the composer’s vocal music often requires the flexibility of trained artists. The women generally coped very well with the style and the flourishes it requires. Rachel Speirs sang Titania with charisma and authority. Eleanor Broomfield’s Hermia and Annie Reilly’s Helena, were vocally “two lovely berries moulded on one stem”, and with a height difference for their spat over their relative stature. Angharad Rowlands as Peter Quince/Fairy 2, Suzie Purkis as Puck/Snug and Alys Mererid Roberts as Flute/Fairy 1 completed a very accomplished team.
The men did not quite match this level, though each was competent enough. Luke Horner and Peter Edge sounded well as the topless lovers, and George Robarts enjoyed himself as Bottom. Lars Fischer’s generally fine Oberon had momentary intonation problems which should disappear with first night nerves. Overall, this is an impressive way to stage Restoration semi-opera for today's audience.
