Flirting outrageously with the housekeeper, coping with a youthfully impetuous daughter obsessed by a stranger in the street, bailiffs tramping into his house to remove his furniture and hiding from his aristocratic wife whose family silver he has just pawned, it’s an eventful life in London for Karl Marx. Jonathan Dove’s Karl Marx in London! was written to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the political philosopher’s birth, premiering in Bonn in 2018. Telescoping key personal events into one day, it received its UK premiere at Scottish Opera with a sparklingly energetic production directed by Stephen Barlow with pinpoint sharp attention to detail.
The opera mostly steers clear of the political, but reveals the chaotic life of the Marx family, on the run from continental Europe and precariously established in London. Dove and librettist Charles Hart take a day in 1871 and pack it with colourful incident. Yannis Thavoris’ quirky set designs of delightful pop-up-book period drawings of London buildings, ingeniously animated in map form with superb video magic from PJ McEvoy, provide a kinetic backdrop. The work’s clue is in the exclamation mark as this plays as a fast-paced madcap slapstick comedy, Dove’s busy widescreen score matched by Hart’s daringly witty libretto, with Barlow getting characterful performances from every member of the cast.
Roland Wood, sporting a fuzz of grey hair and bushy beard, a dead ringer for Marx, gave a towering interpretation, his rich voice carrying over an orchestra going at full tilt, his comedic timing faultless. Obsessed with capital, his hopeless lack of skill at practical financial arrangements sparks the drama. Soprano Rebecca Bottone as Tussi, his youngest daughter, breezily negotiated Dove’s astonishing coloratura in her opening aria with Lucy Schaufer as Helene, a housekeeper with a secret, her rich lower mezzo register holding her own as she tries to stabilise the household. Musical references pepper the score, a mischievous touch of Herrmann’s Psycho strings announcing the entry of Jenny Marx, Orla Boylan, her authoritative no-nonsense soprano searching for her furniture, her silver and Karl. Tenor William Morgan was an ardent Freddy, a gunsmith bearing a significant napkin ring, Alasdair Elliott a brilliant cameo as Engels, arriving on a penny farthing dressed as a guardian angel (and later as a knight in shining armour), and Jamie MacDougall as a Prussian spy, master of his seven disguises, including Brenda, the buxom barmaid at the Red Lion.
There is considerable rushing about, hapless policemen and pratfalls, but when the pace slows there are some insightful set pieces, Helene and Jenny sinking gins in “Another little drink” and Jenny later haunted by the death of three of her six children – the Marx family had stayed at various insalubrious addresses in overcrowded districts where disease was rife. It is a lot to take in at a first performance, but highlights were Tussi giving a piano recital with Freddy on the cart of furniture trundling down the street, taking off into the scudding clouds, and the dream sequence as Marx dozes in the British Library's Reading Room with workers emerging, clambering over the desks in a robust “right to protest” chorus, five chorus members breaking the 1870s dress code with modern-day causes. The pivotal political scene was in the Red Lion, home of the London branch of the Communist League, with Marx making his big political monologue, winning and splurging a suitcase of cash as the male chorus belted out the workers’ slogans. Movement director Kally Lloyd-Jones kept things busy including some stylistic gestures from the various choruses providing visual heft.
Thavoris and the costume team had fun with the 1870s as hooped skirts were all the rage and crinoline was just emerging as a fabric. The workers were studiously flat-cap drab, but the Marx family were handsomely dressed with Marx himself resplendent in frock coat and red trousers, ladies in sumptuous dresses down to Jenny’s voluminous shocking pink number.
Conductor David Parry, returning to the work after Bonn, drew a vividly colourful performance from the orchestra, driving rhythms, circular minimalist sequences and triumphant brass. Scenes flew past, characters and objects given themes, the twinkling celesta representing the napkin ring carried by Freddy. I enjoyed the valiant tussle between the single trombone and upstart Melanzane’s political speech in the Red Lion and the lively five-in-a-bar tarantella. The two orchestral passages depicting the “anarchist volcano” and the “ravenous machine” were delivered with panache.
Finally, Freddy’s parents are unmasked, furniture restored and the Marx family enjoy a picnic on Hampstead Heath. Monochrome drawings of the view from Parliament Hill become etched with colour morphing into today’s Parliament Hill vista, Marx echoing down the years. With over a dozen singing parts, Marx in London! is a big bold show from Scottish Opera, enormously entertaining all round.
