The Mikado returns to ENO

 

ENO’s joyous and iconic interpretation of The Mikado returns to the London Coliseum this Christmas, complete with high-kicking chorus lines, satirical touches and a wonderfully elegant score. Jonathan Miller’s widely-acclaimed production of Gilbert & Sullivan’s ‘Japanese’ satire takes the story out of the tiny oriental town of Titipu and sets it in the faintly seedy grandeur of a 1930s English hotel – the perfect place for lampooning targets much closer to home. This revival marks Richard Suart’s 25th anniversary in the part of Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner.

David Parry conducts an outstanding British cast, led by Richard Suart as Ko-Ko. ENO favourite Robert Murray, who most recently played the role of Steersman in Jonathan Kent’s critically-acclaimed production of The Flying Dutchman, is Nanki-Poo. He is joined by ENO Harewood Artist Mary Bevan, singing the role of Yum-Yum and Richard Angas and Mark Richardson share the role of The Mikado of Japan. The cast also includes David Stout as Pish-Tush, Rachael Lloyd as Pitti-Sing and Yvonne Howard as Katisha.

Miller’s iconic vision of a 1930’s English, sea-side hotel was immaculately captured by the late, celebrated stage designer Stefanos Lazaridis, a frequent collaborator with ENO during the 1980s.The creative team includes costume designer Sue Blane, choreographer Antony van Laast (revival choreography by Steven Speed) and lighting designer Davy Cunningham.

The Mikado opens at the London Coliseum on 1 December for 12 performances – 1, 5, 7, 8 December and 21, 25, 26, 30 and 31 January at 7.30pm and 1, 8 December and 26 January at 2.30pm

London Philharmonic Orchestra

 

Royal Festival Hall, 31 October 2012

Osmo Vanska is one our finest conductors of Scandinavian music and his wealth of experience was brought into play in this somewhat unbalanced concert. It opened with a delicate and light reading of Sibelius’ Third Symphony. No Nordic depression here, just a series of beautifully crafted images. Osmo Vanska shaped, cajoled and smiled the music into life. The gentle warmth of the Andantino was like a slow circle dance at sunset. If the final movement seemed almost over-playful at first, the strong cello line brought things together and ended the performance with real joy.

What are we to make of Carl Nielsen’s Sixth Symphony? He may have called it simple yet it is anything but. However, the music is totally accessible even when confusing. The Humoreske  may sound like a group of music students messing about but the rapid shifts of mood and texture are uncomfortably close to atonalism and even modernism. In the final movement we could be at a Hoffnung Music Festival. And yet there seems to be something far more profound here. It seems as if Nielsen is forcing us to face the reality of our emotional reactions to music. He lures us into a romantic string section only to drop it, almost like Charles Ives, and force us to accept we are being manipulated. Are we so weak-willed that we give in to any emotion thrown at us by a composer? It makes for an exhilarating and challenging half-hour, and one we should investigate more often.

Between these two fine works we heard Mozart’s Violin Concerto No 3 in G major. I feel like asking – why? It was out of step with the rest of the programme and seemed uncomfortably light weight. Maybe part of the problem was the soloist, Christian Tetzlaff. Technically accomplished, his platform demeanour is distracting with its swooping movements and bodily contortions. Luckily I had somebody tall sitting in front of me and I was able to block him out visually for most of the time. The Adagio was the better section and this brought something closer to equanimity, though the dancing returned in the finale. BH