STAGE PAGE 3

The Sweeney Todd extravaganza was followed by 'A Swell Party'. This was a celebration of the life of Cole Porter with a succession of his songs, plus a few extras to turn ointo a biography. The highlight of that, from my point of view, was the 'Brush up your Shakespeare' duet, taken from Kiss Me Kate. We didn't do the whole song, but included some painstakingly simple but entertaining choreography.

The next 'complete' production was with Imperial Opera again, and the show was Cheryomushki, comic opera by Shostakovich. It was written just after the death of Stalin in 1953 (prior to that, this satire might not have well received). It's based on the construction of the new large appartments blocks that were being built in Russia at the time. The title means "Cherry Tree Estate, Moscow" and it was performed in English (translation by David Poutney).

But it turns out they're lucky enough to have also been allocated a place in Cheryomushki, as have Sasha and Masha. Sergei takes them on a drive around Moscow. As a result of that, he's late in picking up his boss, who has recently married Varocka, or Vava for short, who's much younger than himself and well-proportioned. The couple sing a duet while they are waiting for Sergei, it's obvious that Vava does not love Drebenyetsov at all and it is money that brings them together.

That bit is followed by the reunion of the Judge Kurochkin and ex-crminal Pyotr Pytrovich Milkin, whom he sent to prison for having given his Mrs 'one in the bunce'. But there seem to be no hard feelings and they become friends.
I played Milkin, and I used a very raucous and throat-hurting laugh at this point!
A little later comes one of the best sequence of lines in the show

Do the Russians know how to party? Mr. Milkin brings some bread and some salt and also a bottle of champagne. That leads to a bit of leching between some of the neighbours, and then a bit of fighting.

I mentioned kick-lines earlier. When I wrote that I was expecting to be involved in another one soon as I started for rehearsing for a production of Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld', which includes a can-can section. I say Offenbach's, but people say that most of the music was written by Gluck, in any case the version in question was Park and Hamner's version for operatic societies, with much of the music lowered in pitch, and some of the songs added/ taken away and even includes different characters.

The company concerned was Swanbank Music, based in Putney, South West London. The show was to be performed in November of that year. Unfortunately the director, Stephen Salter, contracted meningitis while on holiday, and died in August and it was deemed inappropriate to continue with it.

Will I return to Swanbank to do another show? We shall see. I wail definitely be doing another Offenbach opera.

The next thing I did was with Hounslow Community Opera, I was coaxed into taking part with them as a result of the distinct lack of baritones in the group at the time (none at all). But although I was doing it only as a favour, I did enjoy it. It gave me an opportunity to sing an operatic aria in public performance for the first time. The aria concerned was Allidoro's aria from La Cenerentola (Cinderella) where he summons a coach to take Cinderella to the ball. I also sang the same part in the opening scene where Cinerella's sisters, Clorinda and Thisbe, boast about how beautiful they are and nag Cinderella a lot. Allidoro comes on disguised as a beggar.

A few days later I appeared in the famous opera, Rigoletto, by Giuseppe Verdi. Click here to see photographs of the cast. It is a story about the Duke of Mantua (no, that's not the place where Don Quixote came from) and his jester, Rigoletto. The Duke is compulsive womaniser (yes, another one), Rigoletto seems to enjoy insulting people more than he does making jokes. In the first act the Count Monterone issues a curse upon Rigoletto in punishment for his insults at a party in the Duke's court. Rigoletto has a daughter, Gilda, whom everyone thinks is his mistress as a result of rumour spread by one of the courtiers, Marullo. At the start of Act 2 Rigoletto meets an assassin called Sparafucile who advertises his services. Later the Duke bribes his way into Gilda's house so that he may woo her. As Gilda prefers poorer men, he pretends that he is a poor student and calls himself Gaultier Malde. His courtiers decide to take revenge on Rigoletto by kidnapping Gilda. Rigoletto, very inconveniently, approaches Gilda's house to find some masked men. Marullo reveals his identity and then tricks him into thinking that they are actually going to rape the Countess Ceprano, an activity in which Rigoletto would like to join. So Marullo puts a mask on Rigoletto with a blindfold in front. Somehow he fails to notice that he has been blindfolded. The courtiers slip away and do the deed. In Act 3 The Duke mourns the disappearance of his latest love before the courtiers tell him about their abduction of 'Rigoletto's missus.' Rigoletto is delighted when he finally sees his daughter again but is incensed with his master for having won over his daughter by means of lying. He decides that the Duke should pay with his life. In Act 4 Rigoletto arranges it so that The Duke meets Maddelena at the Inn of her brother, Sparafucile, who is an assassin. Maddelena is beautiful and the Duke can't resist. Rigoletto watches this with Gilda to prove a point to her. Rigoletto asks Sparafucile to do the business on the Duke. Maddelena tries to persuade her brother not to do it, as she quite likes him as well, so they decide to kill the next person who enters the inn. Gilda is outside listening to their conversation, and decides that she doesn't want to live anymore and so enters the inn. When Rigoletto discovers what has happened he realises that Monterone's curse has come to pass and screams with despair.

This was my second appearance with Floral Opera who, as I've mentioned earlier, considers itself to be a semi-educational company. As there are only four female parts and no female chorus in Rigoletto it was decided that the company should perform Puccini's Sour Angelica, in which all the characters are women and then Acts 2, 3 and 4 of Rigoletto. I played Marullo. He is the courtier whom Rigoletto trusts more than any other, though that's not saying much. He is bit nosy though and is the one who initially spreads the rumour about Rigoletto having a mistress. He does, however, feel guilty when Gilda turns out to be Rigoletto's daughter. He is perhaps the sort of person who does naughty things, and knows it's the wrong thing to do, but ends up doing it anyway and ultimately regrets it. There is a scene in Act 2 when Marullo says 'Povero Rigoletto' to himself. A bit later Rigoletto asks him where his daughter is, but Marullo can say nothing because the other courtiers are all looking on threateningly. He certainly grabbed onto my feet quite firmly. In rehearsals some of the courtiers expressions made me giggle, but that didn't happen in the performance.

To be honest my heart was not fully in this production. I have watched myself in a video recording and I certainly look more self-conscious than normal. This could be because it was my second performance in a week and I out more emphasis on the first one. The fact that I left my mobile phone in the auditorium and switched on did not help matters. I received one text message, but it could have been worse! I also played the herald who escorts Monterone to his execution in Act 3. This is the character who only sings middle C's. I didn't really like the blue 'munchkin' costume I wore. So much so that I decided that I didn't want to have a photograph of myself wearing it. I don't think the video recorder liked the costume either as it was very much excluded from the film.

This production had a few more frills than most other Floral productions, apparently. Certainly in Sour Angelica there was a fine selection of nun outfits and some pretty pieces of set. There were a few lightning flashes during the storm and scene of Act 4. There was rather limited amount of set used in Rigoletto though. The staging of Gilda's apartment in particular in act 2 was a little awkward, the audience might well have been wondering who could see whom at certain points. Apparently the director interrupted the show because a screen, which was representing a wall, was in the wrong place. There was often not enough emotion on the faces of some the actors. This might have been partly because it was sung in Italian and many the singers would not of knowing exactly what they were saying all the time, but I do include Rigoletto, was played by Italian. The Duke, however, did show a bit more emotion and had a very good voice as well. I think I enjoyed wooing Maddelena. There weren't a huge number of production rehearsals for this show, and consequently (perhaps) I felt that some scenes were a little static. That was the case for much of Act 2, but definitely not in the abduction scene. Acting wise, this was the most awkward scene and was rehearsed quite a few times. A spare mask with a blindfold already attached had to be concealed under somebody's clothing, which was not all that easy they were rigid plastic masks. I had to do a bit of pretend fumbling. It just about worked on the day. The bit that got the biggest laugh was when the count Ceprano sarcastically says 'Ch'ai dil nouvo, buffon?' ('what's the news, fool'). And then Rigoletto repeats that line, even more sarcastically. It was the mimicking that got the laugh, much to the annoyance of the actor playing Ceprano, who really been practising that line. There isn't a great deal to laugh about in the opera aside from that little bit. My favourite scene in the opera is the trio in act 4 when Gilda allows herself to be stabbed to death. Indeed it is one of my favourite scenes in any opera, but really it needs a full orchestra for maximum effect.

My next stage performance came in January 2003, it the Benjamin Britten opera, Albert Herring, with Imperial opera. This was referred as a 'workshop', which basically means that only parts of the opera were performed and we didn't need to memorise anything. Had it not been a Britten opera there might have been time to commit it to memory. It is an opera with a lot weird, unmelodic and discordant music. It is set in the small village of Loxford in East Sussex. The elderly Lady Billows has decided to revive an old tradition and to elect a sufficiently virtuous young girl is nominated as 'Queen of the May'. Unfortunately it seems that there are no virtuous girls in the village, or at least Billows' housekeeper, Florence Pike, thinks so, and so a May King is nominated instead. The lucky boy turns out to be Albert Herring. Albert, however, does not want this title, as really he's too shy to do anything vaguely naughty. His mum wants him to accept it though because there is a prize of 25 sovereigns. And so he becomes the centre of attention in a town festival. However, his 'friends' Sid and Nancy, put some rum in Albert's cup of lemonade, which induces him to go to a few pubs and a have a few more drinks. He spends 3 of 25 sovereigns in doing so and of course, everyone is totally shocked. At the end he discards his wreath (crown) in a blaze of glory!
I played Mr. Gedge, the vicar, a part that has a lot of high notes for my range and also a few very deep ones. I also played Sid in the drink-spiking scene, but that was one of the short dialogue scenes, used to fill in some of the gaps in story in what was a rather shortened performance. The is one of the dignitaries who participate in the election of the May Queen near the start. He suggests some of the keener churchgoers. Unfortunately, but unlike the vicar himself I daresay, none of them are celibate. He sort of fancies school teacher Miss Wordsworth, but nothings comes of it. He sings the opening of the grandiose 'Albert the Good' song in celebration of the award. That song ends up with Albert drinking his spiked cup of lemonade and proposing a toast. My other singing scene was the threnody, which is the best bit of the opera. After Albert's night of drinking everyone fears that he is dead. In the threnody each the main characters sing a line of lamentation, one by one, while everyone else sing a chorus line which is repeated over and over. Seems inappropriate that such powerful music should be sung when the person concerned is really just hungover and lying in the gutter.
Although it was just a workshop, I did enjoy it, and might prove to be a useful learning experience.

Les Contes D'Hoffmann (The Tales of Hoffmann) is one of Belgian composer, Jacques Offenbach's most famous operas. It was also his last opera as he died in 1881 when it wasn't quite finished. The opera is based some of the novels written by German author Ernst Theodor Wilhelm Hoffmann. 30 years prior to the writing of the opera, librettists Jules Barbier and Michel Carré wrote a stage play 'Les Contes Fantastiques d'Hoffmann' telling the story of some of Hoffmann's naming the title rôle after the author throughout. Those same authors worked with Offenbach to produce this opera. As a result the opera's incompletion there are several different versions of this opera. Several different conclusions have been written and also some songs and recitatives have been added in later to fill in some the gaps on the way. The result is what you'll see in one music score will be different to what you find in another. In this production, which was with Hampstead Garden Opera, it was performed in English using the Schirmer edition was used for the most part with some additional numbers taken from the Oeser edition. As I have heard none of these additional songs in any recording I am guessing that Offenbach didn't write them. Offenbach's librettists didn't write any dialogue, but some sections of dialogue were included in our version. Three of Hoffmann stories are told. He is a romantic poet who on three occasions falls in love with 'the girl of his dreams' but then a baddy appears and messes things up for him. He is always referred to as Hoffmann, never by his first name is. If I were writing a proper review for a magazine I would read all of the relevant novels and make detailed comparisons to what Offenbach wrote and then compare that to the particular version we did. But as I'm a bit of a joker and only a handful of people will read this, I expect, I'm not going to go to that much effort.

       My next bit of stage activity was with Floral Opera in June 2003. The program was a series of excerpts again. This was a special one though in that it was to be the last time that Dennis and Richard were to work together with the company. Click here to see photographs of cast members from the 2 scenes I was in. It would seem that the like The Marriage of Figaro, as two excerpts from that opera were included and, as you'll remember if you've been reading everything carefully, one was included the year before. I performed in the first of the Figaro excerpts, which was a scene in the third act where Figaro finally discovers who is parents are. It has been decided in court that Figaro must either pay Dr. Bartolo the money he owes or marry Marcellina. The Count Almaviva certainly wants Figaro to marry Marcellina so that he can have Susanna, his housemaid and Figaro's girlfriend, himself. Figaro does all he can to protest before saying that he is a nobleman and must have his parents' consent before marrying anyone. He has no idea who is parents are but has a spatula mark was scolded onto his shoulder when he was a baby. On mentioning this Marcellina immediately realises that Figaro is her son and, would you believe it, Bartolo is Figaro's father. So then there is a family reunion. This annoys the Count and Don Curzio intensely as Figaro obviously cannot marry his own mother. Susanna then arrives with some of the countess's money to pay off Figaro's debts. On seeing Figaro hugging Marcellina she assumes that Figaro is has made the wrong decision and gives him a good slap. Of course an explanation is forthcoming and all is forgiven. Figaro ends up making a profit. The scene ends with Figaro's new parents deciding that they really ought to marry each other as soon as possible. They all mock the Count who has stormed off in frustration. I played Figaro, which meant I had significant amount of recitative to deal with and I'll admit that it took me longer to learn it than I'd antcipated, te rest was quite easy to learn, as Mortzart ensembles frequently are. I will always remember an exercise we did to help slicken up the recit bits where we had to start each line before the previous person has finished his or hers. But one or two people decided to start singing their lines so early that they would finish theirs before I could finish mine, making the exercise impossible. In the end the recit was quite slick and then the sextet was a bit slower, so there was a bit of contrast. There were some comic moments, such as Don Curzio stuttering and hitting himslef a lot. There were also some other comic additions, such as Bartolo trying to steal Susanna's purse, which she drops. Susanna only had little hands, but can apply some force with them. Needless to say, this is the only time any woman has slapped me in the face. As for the costumes used in this scene hmmmmmm, I think they were meant to be 1950's style costumes. The jacket I was wearing was my own, but my shoulders weren't quite big enough to fit it.

        The other scene I appeared in was taken from Puccini's Turandot. We did the trio at the start of act with the 3 ministers, Ping Pang and Pong. I played Ping. Despite the comical-sounding names the discussion they have is not very comical at all. They are having a meeting to discuss the arrangements for what will either be Calaf's wedding or Calaf's funeral (Calaf is the tenor who sings 'Nessun Dorma'). Ping opens the meeting and then Pang and Pong say what preparations they are making. Then suddenly Ping starts to moan about the sudden change that Turandot, the emperor's daughter has made to their country, and the others join him. Apparently there have been 13 executions in the current year, the year of the tiger (men who have failed to answer Turandot's riddle). After their little rant the mood changes and the each start to talk about their respective hometowns and how much they wish that they were there. I like the two moods of this piece. The first is fast and has the Chinese feel to it that exists in much of the opera. The second tune is slower and is one that one doesn't forget easily. It ends with a beautiful series of chords. However, even if you speak Italian, it's hard to understand what each person is saying when they all sing together. As Richard was more familiar with Japanese customs than Chinese, it was done a Japanese fashion. We wore sandals and kimonos and ate bits of banana from a bowl with chopsticks (it's a ritual thing, not part of a proper meal). Eating the banana was easier for me than the other two because I didn't have to sing while doing it. We also had Japanese fans which we used to make execution gestures. We were all kneeling for much of the first section, which doesn't really help the singing. We walked around a bit in the second half, though not sufficiently as to distract the audience from the music. One annoying thing in the performance was that the audience weren't given much of a briefing in the program notes, so most of them would not have understood what was going on at all.

        I enjoyed this Floral Opera production a good deal more than I did the first two because I had a fair bit to do and was involved in the whole of them. This meant that I had little waiting around to do. Indeed 2003 has been a pretty good year so far.

      Hampstead Garden Opera’s next main production, following The Tales of Hoffmann, turned out to be another of my favourite operas. It is also the first one I ever watched. I think it’s the opera that a lot of people watch first, although in my case is was the cinema version. There have been several musical versions of the novel by Prosper Mérimee, but George Bizet’s easily the most famous. However having only previously scene large scale productions of it, the thought of doing it the small and enclosing Gatehouse theatre didn’t seem quite right. Another thing that bothered me slightly (only slightly) was that this opera requires more flamboyance than most. A bit of dancing is required and many of singers I have performed with try to avoid dance numbers at all cost........ I did once see a flamenco version of Carmen. In that piece the dancing was a major part of it, there was even a dancing horse. The opera doesn’t need anything like as much, but there is some. Many people have been surprised when I’ve told them that I do opera because of my lack of waistline, thinking that all opera singers are like Pavarotti………….
    As was the case in The Tales of Hoffmann, dialogue sections were written for it but were subsequently 'musicalised'. It is the story about the soldier Don José who, unwisely falls in love with Carmen, a gypsy and consequently he gives up everything he has before Carmen turns unfaithful and so he kills her.
Bizet’s production only ran for barely two weeks before it was banned as parts were considered indecent.

    Well, that’s the brief version, now for the longer versions with lots of (irrelevant) comments. Don José is a soldier has been offered a promotion to the rank of corporal on condition that he move away from his home in Navarre (in the Basque region) to serve in the South, which he accepts, rather to the discontent of his mother. The first scene takes place in a square in Seville where the soldiers have a post opposite a cigarette factory. One of the soldiers, Corporal Moralès, is interested when a young 17-year old girl, Micaëla approaches. She is the girlfriend (kind-of) of Corporal Don José and she has a message to give him from his mother in Navarre. Moralès tells her that he is not on the current watch but will appear shortly. Contrary to Moralès and the other soldiers’ wishes, she says that she’ll come back later. However they would not have had much time to flirt with Micaëla because almost the moment she leaves a bugle is heard indicating the change of guard. However in the original (first night) version they would have had six minutes or so, as in that version an incident follows where a young lady and older man are walking arm-in-arm and a young man walks past and discreetly hands a letter to the lady. Moralès sees this and jokily sings a song about it. It’s quite a nice song (musically) but not at all relevant to the story. So they can cut that bit.
    I’m not really sure why the soldiers are so disappointed about Micaëla’s exit, as all of the employees at the cigarette factory are women, young and pretty women, needless to say. Opera would be no fun if the ladies’ chorus were made up of young women who were not, on the whole, attractive.
    Don José arrives with Zuniga, a no-nonsense lieutenant of his platoon, and also with some children who are imitating their marching mannerisms. Moralès informs Don José about Micaëla’s visit before leaving. Then the cigarette factory workers come out for their midday fag-break. The young men of the town are interested in them, but the one in which they are most interested is ‘La Camencita’, commonly known as Carmen. She comes out eventually, and sings one the operas famous songs, the Habanera (dum dum dadum da-dum dum dum). The message conveyed in this song is ‘Love me at your peril’. Even so, the men ask her “When you will you bestow your love?” (bestow, interesting word to use) and she drops a rose in front of Don José. He picks it up, but he hasn’t been paying attention to what’s going on. The bell then sounds to summon the girls back to work. Then Micaëla returns to give José the message. His mum wants him to come back and to marry Micaëla.
    The next scene involve the first fight, which results from verbal squabble between Carmen and one of her co-workers, Manuelita, whom Carmen stabs. All of the girls run out into the square and shout at Zuniga and argue with each other about who started it. Why they don’t come out and just say ‘one of the girls has been stabbed and needs urgent medical attention’, I don’t know, except that it provides a way of drawing things out. It’s actually he best chorus song in the opera, so perhaps it’s just as well. Of course the soldiers spend most of their time standing around doing nothing. All of a sudden there’s some action, not the sort of action they were expecting, and are probably quite excited about it.
    No matter what language it’s sung in, it’s impossible to understand the words.
Don José brings Carmen out of the factory and explains the situation. When asked 'Is this true?' she just answers with a few ‘Tra la la’s’. She is presumed guilty and Zuniga asks José to tie her hands together while he makes out the order to have her put in gaol. While José is watching over Carmen alone she tries to influence him into releasing her, but he is a man of principle and couldn’t possibly do anything dishonourable like that. So she sings her second song, which is almost as famous as the first, the Seguidila (da da da da da da dadaladadadadum). She says, not in the most the romantic way possible, “And yet for love I’m sighing, Will you love me, I will love you?” Somehow, immediately following this line, José switches from being totally disinterested into being completely interested. And so he is to release her and later meet her at the tavern belonging to her friend Lillas Pastia (who became the female Lilla Pastia in this production). Zuniga returns with the order and he and the other soldiers lead her away, but Carmen turns to give José a push and she runs away. And after that has happened, the other cigarette factory girls sing the habanera chorus at a faster tempo in a mocking manner (including the mezzos who weren’t very happy with her earlier).
    The second scene is set in Pastia’s tavern, where some of the gypsies are having a drink with some of the soldiers. Rather surprisingly, Carmen is among the gypsies and Zuniga is among the soldiers. Zuniga does not seem anxious to put Carmen away. Don José is not there. It begins with the gypsy air, which in the first instance was written just for Carmen to sing but later her friends Frasquita and Mercedes managed to each get a verse. Dancing goes on throughout the song, and more and more people join in as it becomes more frenzied. The moment the song finishes, Pastia announces that it is closing time, much to the annoyance of Morales in particular who points out that this is the place all the gypsy smugglers meet in the early hours of the morning. A secret not well kept.
    A spectator who hasn’t read the synopsis might not immediately guess is that a month has passed between the two acts and that Don José has been sent to prison as he appeared to fall over a little too easily after Carmen’s push (I can think of many footballers who deserve similar punishment) and has suffered a fall in rank. Zuniga invites Carmen to come on a ‘walk’ with him; she turns down the offer. Zuniga then points out that José was released earlier that day while everyone else leaves. Everyone comes back more or less immediately as the famous bullfighter, Escamillo, appears. And so the bar is open again. The next song is the most famous one in the opera, so famous that I don’t have to do any dum-de-dums, The toreador song. He is a charming man indeed, and the reward after a victorious bullfight is ‘love’. I daresay in Spain some women still are impressed by men who fight bulls; I can’t think of many in this country who would be. His eye meets Carmen whilst saying ‘l’amour’ conveniently. After the song, he introduces himself to Carmen and he makes his intentions fairly clear. Carmen's response is 'non-committal' Everyone then leads Escamillo away into town except Carmen and her two friends as they has an appointment. The smugglers El Remendado and El Dancaïro join them for a meeting. The long quintet that follows is the most hated piece in the opera. It has been likened in style to Gilbert and Sullivan, indeed it reminds of the quintet the comes near the end of The Gondoliers, but this one is much longer and not as good. The significant moment in the song is where Carmen states that she does not wish to attend the next expedition as she is love a man who went to prison for her which is rather against their motto “Duty comes first and love comes next”. Eventually Don José arrives, a whole month late. As it happens, Carmen sent him a file, but José did not use it because it would be dishonourable. I presume it was not a high security prison, if using it was even an option. Of course, Carmen had assumed that José had escaped but not bothered to come and find her and is delighted to have been wrong. José is not pleased to hear that she has been entertaining some of his comrades by dancing for them. To make up for this she gives him a private dance. Quite a slow dance.

No, not that kind of dance!

    Then immediately a bugle is heard which is to summon the all the soldiers back to the barracks. Carmen then reveals just how stupid she is, by immediately becomes upset about the brevity of José and thinks that her dancing might not have been satisfactory. But those in the audience are usually moved by this moment. José then sings his flower song. Any tenor aria which includes the words ‘flower’ and ‘love’ and has a long top B-flat near the end is bound win over any woman.
    But then Carmen tries to tempt José into joining the smugglers; surely he would if he loves her as much as he says he does. Well, he loves his country more. And so she gets cross with him again. Then Zuniga returns to pick up where he left off. He reminds Don José that he is the wrong place, but he refuses to leave, knowing that Zuniga will try and win Carmen over. So defiant is he that he draws his sword. Of course, had José arrived at the tavern a little earlier he’d have known that Carmen is not particularly keen on Zuniga. He doesn’t know about the one with the red cape though. Then (all of a sudden) lots of smugglers rush in and seize Zuniga. The smugglers must have been having a meeting in the next room. José is once again asked if he’ll join them. He has no choice now, as far as he is concerned, because of his insubordination. But could they have bribed Zuniga into not saying anything?
    Act 3 is set on a mountain pass where the smugglers, including José, stop to have a rest. Carmen and her two friends happen to have brought some tarot cards with them and decide the read their own fortunes. Frasquita and Mercedes are quite satisfied with their results, Frasquita will find her ‘one true love’ and Mercedes will inherit a fortune from the older rich gentleman she will marry. So, which man can afford a Mercedes? If he can afford a Ferrari, better still (sorry, I had to make a joke like that somewhere). I’m just thinking, there could be a sequel to Carmen, where Mercedes deviously tries to gain her inheritance ahead of time. Could be a bit like Macbeth. Anyway, Carmen’s future looks rather bleak, death is the only thing she sees. No details given though. But it seems that one their travels Carmen has been slipping away from the pack every so often. José suspects that another man might be involved. Indeed she has become rather weary of his endless moaning about all that he given up.
    The next task for the smugglers is how to sneak all their goods past a couple of customs officers. All too straightforward. No bribes, no gun-pointing, Carmen and friends are just going to flirt them. In spite of her predicted lack of future, Carmen is actually quite excited by the thought of doing this, so much so that a big chorus number results. For a relatively inconsequential part of the story this seems a little OTT. I think that many of the cast in this production agree with me on this.
    So they all ‘March on’. Then Micaëla appears with a guide, who knows where the smugglers’ next stopping point is likely to be. Well actually in this production there was no guide, she was clever enough to work out for herself what route were likely to have taken. She sings her famous air before hiding on hearing gunfire. The shot came from José who could see Escamillo at a distance. Escamillo introduces himself is looking for a young gypsy lady by the name of Carmen…. Time to draw swords again. This fighting tune is more jolly than the previous one, could have been a circus tune. It was significantly shortened after the first performance. Once again the smugglers arrive in time to break things up. Micaëla is discovered just as they are leaving who tells José that his mother wishes for him to come home and she will forgive him. He refuses, but Carmen seems to think it might be better if he were to leave, this time. After a bit of squabbling Micaëla says ‘Just one thing more word, and it will be the last’ in that operatic kind of way which means ‘I’m saying the most important thing last as to create an extra bit of drama’. His mother will die soon, and that’s sufficient to make him go. ‘But we shall meet again’, José says to Camen, followed by a big scary ‘DUM DUMDUM DUMDUM’ from the orchestra. A bit spaghetti-westernish in style.
    The final scene is set at the bull ring in Seville where Escamillo is to take centre stage. Carmen is in the audience along with Frasquita, Mercedes, Moralès and Zuniga. A whole months has passed since between this and the previous scene. You’d think that by now José would have thought to himself ‘She’s a tart and he’s a poser’ and just leave them to their own devices. But no! He knows where to find them and wanders around in the wings. Carmen goes to talk to him and José starts declaring his love for her in a hopeless kind of way. She invites him to kill her if he wishes, 'Free I sill live and free I will die' she exclaims. Not actually her final words, but could have been. Jose stabs Carmen, just as the chorus sing the toreador's song in praise for the victorious Escamillo. They all file out very quickly to discover the death. Jose just carries exclaiming how much he adores Carmen for a few more bars. And that's it.
     During the latter part of this argument the music switches between them and the excited crowd who are all very jolly, not caring much for the hapless bull. The way it changes is awkward, but somehow works. In our production, all the chorus bits were sung from offstage. I have seen a version at The Albert Hall (a Gubbay production). It was an 'in-the-round' production with the stage split into two sections. In the first scene, one section was in the square and the other was in the factory. In the final scene one section was the bullring and Carmen and José did their squabbling in the other section. The colourfully dressed Escamillo showed a few moves, kind of in slow motion, during the snippets of chorus music. This was quite effective.

    There were 8 performances of this production, I played Moralés in five of them, Zuniga in the other 3. It would have been 4 and 4 but when I would have been doing my final Zuniga performance my opposite number’s vocal range was cut short to do illness. And thus took the lower-pitched part, which is Zuniga. Really though I think that Moralés was the more suitable part for me, both vocally and physically, and that Zuniga was more suitable for him (Mike Severyn). I can only think that it was cast this way to give the two of us a bit of variety, and for that I am grateful, but don’t think that this was right from the point of the quality of the show. Moralés is a laid-back character, and his character was enhanced in the dialogue. At the start of the second act (in Pastia’s tavern) I was instructed to ‘act drunk’, and with some ironic lines in the dialogue I was given a perfect ham-acting opportunity. Needless to say, I took the opportunity with both hands. Zuniga, on the other hand, is a rôle which I felt awkward playing. He is a more dominant and emotionless character and I almost certainly smiled too much. My corresponding Don José was a bit older than me, which isn’t really right (perhaps I should stop mentioning this age thing). As it turned out, all of my friends and family who came to see this came on days when I was playing Moralés; I'm fairly sure that that was just a coincidence. A good number of my friends did come this time, indeed some were unable to go as, aside from the first two productions, it was a sell-out. The second Sunday sold out a week before the first Sunday performance happened. This is quite normal in the West End, but unique to any show I’ve been involved with. The theatre did only contain only 110 seats, but even so this was a victory for publicity. Some people debate as to whether the public are more inclined to come and watch a play that they are familiar with or whether they might prefer to try something new. There is evidence here that suggests that it is better to do something it is better to stick to the well-known pieces, but I think it's best to do a bit of both, if possible.
    There was wooden background that was put up in the theatre a few days before the production. I remember when I first saw it I thought 'primer, undercoat at least 2 layers of gloss, anyone who can spare a few minutes to help are most welcome..’ but actually the wood stayed as it was and was visible throughout and it looked good. Well it wasn’t really suitable for act 3 (the mountain pass, Micaëla hid behind a few chairs) but three out of four is not bad. The two main dancing scenes were the Habanera and the gypsy air. I was fortunate enough to be able to watch the Habenera during one of the dress rehearsals. I was quite impressed with what I saw. There is a photo or two that I took of the scene on this page. I couldn’t do that for the gypsy air because I was in it, but from my position on stage it looked good. I received the impression from audience members that they liked it as well, there was a sufficient build-up of energy to bring the frenzied conclusion. In many places the direction helped compensate for (how can I say this tactfully) some of the holes in some cast members’ acting ability and brought the best out of people. Indeed overall I think that this and The Sorcerer were the two best-directed productions that I have appeared in. One scene though which didn’t seem right was the cigarette girls' quarrel scene, in which there were 6 or 7 men in the final verse striving to keep only a slightly larger number of women from breaking into a fight. Again I didn’t have to the opportunity to watch this scene, but I feel this scene can only look vaguely realistic if the ladies significantly out-number the men. Indeed it felt somewhat comical. If were ever to direct this scene, I would make it less so (yes, you heard me correctly).
    Anyway, it was a successful show, with another excellent cast. The little doubts about the show that I had had proved to be unfounded. On the advertising leaflet the opera was described as ‘Bizet’s flawless masterpiece’. That’s a little generous I think. However if Moralès’ song is put back in, ‘Passing the Guard’ is removed and the act 2 quintet is shortened, I’d say that it’s something close to flawless.