Proms 2013: The Midsummer Marriage, review

Michael Tippett continues to lag behind Britten in popularity, and his 1952 opera The Midsummer Marriage arguably gives some clues as to why. The composer wrote his own libretto, and created a strange, intoxicating work whose drama is unconventional and opaque in a way that his illustrious contemporary’s operas never are. With two pairs of lovers from different ends of the social spectrum and a pervading air of mystical ceremony, it is often described as a kind of austerity Britain Magic Flute, even though it draws inspiration from many other sources.

Its 1955 Covent Garden premiere left many baffled, and the first act’s emphasis on providing an exposition of the puzzling action might still inspire head-scratching and watch-checking. But in the final two acts, the piece’s bucolic, heady power is irresistible. On paper the allegorical plot remains obscure, but words and music start to communicate coherence of a deeper sort. That it exudes Tippett’s characteristic conviction and integrity, leavened with charm and humour, also helps.

This semi-staged performance had its drawbacks, of course, creating an additional distance between audience and action. But it also allowed us to bask in the glorious score, which manages to be focused and concise while glowing and shimmering with delicate midsummer magic. On the back of its Tippett concert series last season, the BBC Symphony Orchestra sounded fully at ease with the composer’s sound world and technical demands, playing with wonderful light-touch virtuosity. In every bar, meanwhile, Andrew Davis demonstrated his love for the score, drawing muted, pollen-heavy haziness and, where necessary, blazing intensity from his forces in a beautifully controlled reading.

As Mark, one half of the lofty couple sent to undergo trials, Paul Groves was impressively untiring, even if his lyrical tenor occasionally struggled against the orchestra. Erin Wall’s Jenifer projected suitable nobility and high-mindedness, and was sung with plenty of limpid, sunny tone. David Wilson-Johnson was vivid as King Fisher, her blustering, overprotective father. There were delightful performances from Ailish Tynan and Allan Clayton as the earthy pair, Bella and Jack – she bright and mischievous, he guileless and likeable.

Resplendent in priestess’s cape, Catherine Wyn-Rogers’s sonorous Sosostris intoned imposingly from the back of the stage. David Soar and Madeleine Shaw were excellent as the Ancients, and the BBC Singers and BBC Symphony Chorus were on incandescent form. One question remained: when can we see this extraordinarily rich and rewarding work staged again?