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SCRUTINY | Handel's Ariodante Gets The PostModern Treatment

By Arthur Kaptainis on October 17, 2016

Varduhi Abrahamyan as Polinesso and Ambur Braid as Dalinda (in background) in the Canadian Opera Company’s production of Ariodante, 2016. (Photo: Michael Cooper)
Varduhi Abrahamyan as Polinesso and Ambur Braid as Dalinda (in background) in the Canadian Opera Company’s production of Ariodante, 2016. (Photo: Michael Cooper)

Handel’s Ariodante directed by directed by Richard Jones and conducted by Johannes Debus at the Four Seasons Centre. Runs through Nov. 3.

Through much of the benighted 20th century, the Italian operas of George Frideric Handel were thought to be too long, too formulaic and too encrusted with myth and allegory to hold the contemporary stage. The question now arises as to whether we have progressed an iota if works like Ariodante (1735) are revived mainly as scaffolding for R-rated directorial extravaganzas of the sort presented Sunday by the Canadian Opera Company at the Four Seasons Centre.

There could be no doubt, however, of the calibre of the cast. Give these singers a medal each for valour above and beyond the call of duty.

This 2014 production originating in Aix-en-Provence is set in a what one supposes to be a drab Scottish town of the early 1970s — not that our eyes are ever escorted beyond a tripartite interior (fireplace, dining room, bedroom) with a small porch stage right. A swinging doorknob on wheels is used to mime, rather ludicrously, the opening and closing of doors.

Sweaters, plaid shirts, and heavy boots prevail. Scotland (the original setting) is referenced by the kilt worn by the King (who of course is nothing of the kind) and a mute bagpipe seen during the simple dance sequences. An ornamental display of knives hangs overhead just in case anyone questions the fundamentally mean-spirited outlook of the British director Richard Jones.

The prince of the title (looking more like a fisherman) is betrothed to Ginevra (in more delicate fabrics as a token of her sensitivity). This daughter of the king has also aroused the interest of Polinesso, the villain of the piece, who is construed here as a sex-crazed cleric wearing shabby denim under his black robe.

Arthur Kaptainis

Knowing that Christianity is the one creed that can be assaulted on stage with impunity, Jones takes full advantage. Not long into Act 1, Polinesso is sniffing stockings; in Act 2 he drugs and rapes Ginevra and is fellated by her attendant Dalinda; in Act 3 he performs a gratuitous exorcism. Bibles are raised portentously by the townsfolk here and there. Scripture appears in the surtitles in a satirically antique font.

While all this could be classified with a shrug as standard Eurotrash provocation, it introduced a fatal weakness into one of Handel’s tighter and more compelling stories. How could we believe that a sympathetic, if troubled character would plight her troth to such a caricature? Dalinda’s entirely plausible attraction to Polinesso as a duplicitous nobleman is the pivot on which the plot turns.

Well, whatever. The show must go on, and it certainly did, with excellent singing from top (of which there was plenty) to bottom. Alice Coote, a regular COC visitor, brought both lyrical shape and tonal intensity to Scherza infida, in which Ariodante reacts to what he supposes to be Ginevra’s apparent infidelity. This extended aria was a highlight not only because of its intrinsic musical value but because Jones, elsewhere a great one for useless stage business, left this splendid British mezzo-soprano alone.

Jane Archibald, another COC frequent flyer, had more acting to do as the flagrantly abused Ginevra, but emerged with dignity (and high range) intact. Full marks to her fellow soprano Ambur Braid, forced in Act 2 by Polinesso (and more to the point, Jones) to perform simulated sex, for maintaining her stage composure and trademark coruscating sound. One wonders whether the realism of her “strike the villain” invocation in Act 3 was due in part to what she had, in point of fact, been put through.

Baritone Johannes Weisser (the King) and tenors Owen McCausland (Lurcanio) and Aaron Sheppard (Odoardo) all projected strongly. Johannes Debus, a conductor for all seasons, evoked leanly expressive sounds from the COC Orchestra not so long after scoring a major success in Siegfried.

The main function of the chorus in this production was to move furniture. Milling among them were onstage puppeteers. In the second of three tabletop puppet shows, Ginevra is portrayed as a stripper. Finn Caldwell was credited as puppetry director. Sets and costumes were ascribed to an individual who uses “Ultz” as a stage name. Need I mention that Jones subverted Handel’s happy ending? He would have received a reprimand from the international society of postmodern directors had he failed to do so.

An interesting footnote: The cast was countertenor-free, although mezzo-soprano Varduhi Abrahamyan as Polinesso cultivated something of a “falsetto” tone, perhaps by way of communicated the character’s duplicity. At any rate, there is clearly no longer any obstacle in 2016 to accepting a mezzo-soprano in a heroic or villainous male role. Handel lives. The larger question: Will he survive?

#LUDWIGVAN

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Arthur Kaptainis

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