The Guildhall School of Music and Drama tells us that its double bill of Ottorino Respighi’s Maria egiziaca and La bella dormente nel bosco both have eponymous female heroines, but otherwise these two productions have very little in common. Trying to find connections between the story of a Medieval sex worker-turned-saint and a witty retelling of Sleeping Beauty is perplexing: is it that they both form triptychs, each being in three acts? Is it that they were not designed to be full-scale operas, with Maria egiziaca intended as a concert piece and La bella as a puppet show? Nevertheless, they provide a range of styles to showcase the students’ abilities, as a contrast between the sacred and the profane.
In both, books litter an opulent set. Two staircases lead up to a trio of doors which become alternately a boat, a church, and a viewing platform for fairies. The episodes of Maria Egiziaca are interspersed with projected lines from the saint’s life, and the acts of La bella are introduced by the opening pages of a storybook (Shrek-style).
A rarely performed curio, Maria egiziaca follows Mary of Egypt as she attempts to use her feminine wiles to secure a spot on a boat headed for Jerusalem, then repents of her sins and retreats to the desert in prayer until her death. As the title character, Vladyslava Ionascu-Yakovenko (who performs two of the four performances) has a luscious, rich soprano that fits the sensuality of Maria at the outset, but also her vulnerability as the opera develops. Her strong vocal power was matched by that of Alaric Green – playing a pilgrim disgusted by her morality and then the Abbate Zosimus in the desert – who conveyed both zealotry and warmth well. Steven van der Lindern’s sailor has a pleasing tenor, and a cameo scene between a leper in Jerusalem and his doting sister was a touching moment of pathos. Yolisa Ngwexana's Voice of an Angel had an ethereal quality, while lacking in a bit of power considering the strength of the epiphany it precedes.
Under Dominic Wheeler’s conducting, the orchestra was in full swing, 20th-century intensity contrasting with harpsichord lines. It may have been the acoustics of the auditorium, but in both productions the orchestra frequently drowned out solo lines.
There are two weak points in Victoria Newlyn's production. The first is that it suffers from a tendency to overact – the simple chant-like melodies don’t quite suit book-waving and flouncing – accompanied by some ropey Italian pronunciation. The second is that Maria’s epiphany is unconvincing. This is partly a pacing issue in a production which could have been slicker, but it’s also down to the lack of clarity over why Maria turns to God, which seems to be triggered here by physical rather than spiritual fear. The sudden appearance of a large projected owl face behind the church, from which Maria cowers, feels a overly literal but is supposedly the spiritual goshawk she feels trapped by. It is also possibly due to a mistranslation in the surtitles that has Maria pleading to escape “death” rather than the damnatory “eternal death” of the libretto.
La bella dormente nel bosco glimmers. Using the same set but with different flourishes – the rigging from Maria egiziaca become butterflies, flowers and silhouettes of wild animals adorn the stairs – the staging smacks of Venetian Carnival and the costumes reflect that. Overacting is not a problem here: the opera derives a lot of charm and wit from physical theatre.
This is particularly evidenced in the chorus who, whether clutching lily pads to their heads to become frogs or fanning oversized butterfly wings to become fairies, clearly enjoyed themselves. Other fun moments include the tutor attempting to teach the baby princess through his ukulele, conducting with a quill, a human spindle turning wool on a disc, and the eventual riding off into the sunset of the awakened princess on a motorbike. Long, loud scene changes could use some tightening, and with all the physical theatre there is a lot going on, which occasionally dampens some enchanting performances.
As the Princess, Ana-Carmen Balestra was a delight to watch, full of naivety and charm and with a shining top register. Ngwexana sparkled as the Blue Fairy, standing out in her higher notes with a clear, concise coloratura and beautiful musicality. The King and Queen’s voices matched well, their duet luscious heart-rending.
Entering these storybook worlds shows there is plenty of promise in these two very different productions, proof that Respighi is well worth staging.
