Britten never repeated himself in his operas – each is a distinct and different entity in one and manner. It is hard to believe that the comedy Albert Herring was preceded by the grim and terse Rape of Lucretia, and succeeded by the epic grandeur of Billy Budd. Yet there are always layers to look for even in an apparently light Suffolk social entertainment such as this, and this deft, stripped-down version certainly identifies them.
With distant memories of Peter Hall’s lavish period production from Glyndebourne, it was quite a shock to confront a set in the process of assembly that never really goes beyond a series of flats labelled to differentiate the various indoor and outdoor locations in Loxford. A stage manager also sits to one side to provide key props and sounds as if we are in a studio performance. While this is doubtless a nod towards enforced economies and the exigencies of touring to Salford, the skill of singers and players and the depth and concision of Britten’s characterisation nevertheless made it a memorable evening overall. Remarkably, this was also the first time this opera had received an outing at ENO.
The plot can be easily described. A committee of self-righteous village worthies fails to find a local girl who meets their exacting moral criteria for choice as May Queen. So they alight upon Albert Herring, the apparently simple and hen-pecked son of the village grocer, as an alternative ‘May King’. however, the ceremonies go horribly wrong, thanks to a spiked drink, and Albert kicks over the traces spectacularly, much to the horror of the village elite, who are deservedly humiliated.
There are plenty of opportunities for broad comedy here, as well as sly musical parody, which are eagerly taken by composer and performers. But, as so often in Britten, there are darker elements too, which can be explored at the discretion of the director. Antony McDonald certainly flags up the elements of social hypocrisy which underlie much of the action, while rightly not trying to match this community with the brutality of The Borough in Peter Grimes. Individual murky peccadilloes are hinted at but not pushed too far.
In the pit Daniel Cohen leads a tight and exact ensemble – while the forces are small, it is a tribute to Britten’s writing and to precise balancing that the sound never seems small in the vast spaces of the Coliseum. There were also plenty of opportunities to hear the delicious, often witty, instrumental details, such as the evocation of the Tristan theme when the lemonade is mixed with rum.
There are no weaknesses in the cast, who all act plausibly too, relishing opportunities to deepen their characterisations with stage business. In the title role, Caspar Singh developed vocal strength and physical presence as the evening progressed, without ever resorting to caricature, and his rapport with Dan D’Souza and Leah-Marian Jones, as Sid and Nancy, was natural and joyful. Other stand-out performances were Carolyn Dobbin as Miss Pike and Aoife Miskelly, in the technically exacting role of the highly-strung school teacher. Emma Bell, channelling Miss Trunchbull as the bullying Lady Billows, seemed a bit more shrill and strident than even this larger-than-life part demanded, but she was well mitigated by the detailed portraits delivered by the other village dignitories, whose diction and projection was impeccable. Likewise, the parts of the three children were very well delivered, just on the right side of knowing.
The production is described as semi-staged, but that does it something of an injustice. While the sets are gestural, the care taken over period setting (in the 1950s), direction and costume reveal it as thoroughly thought-through and thought-provoking.
Composer: Benjamin Britten
Libretto: Eric Crozier
Conductor: Daniel Cohen
Director: Antony McDonald
Cast includes: Emma Bell, Anna Elizabeth Cooper, Dan D’Souza, Carolyn Dobbin, Leah-Marian jones, Mark Le Brocq, Aoife Miskelly, Natasha Oldbury, Abigail Sinclair, Casper Singh, Eddie Wade, Andri Bjorn Robertsson
Until 16 October and touring
2 hrs 45 mins with interval
Photo Credit: Genevieve Girling