Lakmé, Opera Holland Park, review: 'sensuous'

This gem of the French operatic repertory was beautifully sung and sensitively played, says Rupert Christiansen

Fflur Wyn as Lakmé and Katie Bray as Mallika in Opera Holland Park's Lakmé
Fflur Wyn as Lakmé and Katie Bray as Mallika in Opera Holland Park's Lakmé

Here is a rare opportunity to hear a gem of the French operatic repertory, beautifully sung and sensitively played. You can probably imagine the sting in the tail.

But first let me warmly recommend Delibes' darling score, first heard in 1883, influential on both Massenet and Tchaikovsky, and far more than just its two hit numbers, the Flower Duet (popularised by the British Airways advertisement) and the Bell Song.

Attached to a plot of pure operatic hokum centred on the dilemma of a British soldier in imperial India who falls in love with a Hindu priestess, the music is richly yet delicately flavoured with orientalist melisma and incantation, as well as the palpitating romantic ardour so characteristic of this tradition.

Robert Murray as Gérald and Fflur Wyn as Lakmé

David Soar as Nikalantha and Fflur Wyn as Lakmé (Photo: Robert Workman)

Its scene-painting is atmospheric, its melodies are sensuous, its orchestration lush, its pace languorous – and it is to the credit of Matthew Waldren that his shapely conducting doesn’t soup or whip it up factitiously. The City of London Sinfonia plays every note lovingly. If only it was a little shorter: are there some harmless snips to be made to the two prolix first acts?

Fflur Wyn was quite enchanting in the title-role, singing diamantine coloratura with near-perfect accuracy of intonation and coruscating tone, complemented by the warm honeyed tenor of Robert Murray as the smitten army officer. Their duets were as pleasurable as their arias, and both demonstrated an elegant sense of Gallic style.

That splendid bass David Soar was granitically imposing as the implacable high priest, Nicholas Lester made a robust impression as the hero's Horatio, and there's a nice double act from Katie Bray and Andrew Dickinson as Lakmé's creepy acolytes. Opera Holland Park's chorus has never sounded better than it does this season.

But oh dear, the staging is pretty awful. Refusing to do anything by the book, the director Aylin Bozok avoids any hint of descriptive realism to the point of making the narrative inexplicable. Neither the depths of the jungle nor the bustle of a market day are represented, and the simple sentimental drama gets knotted up in meaningless gestures and redundant accretions – the worst element being a barefoot dancer whose writhings are presumably intended to reflect Lakmé's psyche. The net result, neither interesting nor illuminating, reminded me of a bad undergraduate essay.

Finally, a furious housekeeping note: the management's demand of £6 for a glass of house wine is tantamount to extortion.

Until 31 July; tickets: operahollandpark.com