Grange Park’s scaled-down Don Carlo still astonishes
Verdi's magnificent, turbulent drama Don Carlo , his opera based on Schiller's play about the rivalry of Philip II of Spain and his son Carlos for the love of Elizabeth de Valois, demands lavish staging in a large theatre, vast spaces with crowds of chorus and extras. The necessarily scaled-down production at Grange Park Opera , skilfully directed by Jo Davies, throws the spotlight onto the solo characters caught in this compelling conflict, and allows the eloquent music to speak directly.
The composer struggled for years with this opera in numerous different versions, and here the compact but still lengthy four-act version of 1884 was given in the Italian translation. Leslie Travers's sets, with their flickering candles and moveable walls, are oppressively effective, though they take a long time to shift, creating too many pauses in the action.
With Anna Watson's atmospheric lighting, they set the scene firmly as tenor Otar Jorjikia's strong but relentless Don Carlos and Michel de Souza's outstandingly lyrical Rodrigo swear everlasting friendship, only to have the partnership broken by conflicting loyalties.
Ruxandra Donose as Princess Eboli in Grange Park Opera's production of Don Carlo - Alastair Muir
Rodrigo, Marquis of Posa, becomes an ally of the cruelly authoritarian King Philip, here the imposing if inflexible bass Matthew Rose, whose towering figure and cannon-fire voice sweep all before it. Even the wizened Grand Inquisitor (Julian Close) seems intimidated. Carlos realises that his father has stolen his beloved Elisabeth de Valois, the daughter of Henry II of France, whose tormented, self-accusatory blame is among the most touching elements of the opera, her final act aria beautifully crafted by Elin Pritchard.
There are many more shocking moments, including the climactic act one trio, and the scene in which the Princess Eboli (a sweepingly forceful Ruxandra Donose), realises that her beloved Carlos does not love her. The revelation is sharply staged here; the stuttering, pause-laden, dissonant fear in the orchestra as she then confesses to Elizabeth that she too has been King Philip's lover is one of countless miraculous touches in Verdi's orchestration.
It is left to a small black-costumed chorus, a handful of soldiers and an incongruous trio of white-costumed penitents to conjure up the show-piece scene of the auto-da-fé sacrifice of vanquished heretics. Finally, amid the shimmering candles the ghost of Charles V, Philip's father emerges to shelter his grandson Carlos, but here not quickly enough to prevent the vicious intervention of the Grand Inquisitor.
The psychological penetration of Verdi's score is astonishing, and the relationships are well developed here in Davies's unfussy direction. There were signs of first-night nerves, which perhaps led Gianluca Marciano to be excitably over-active as conductor, though he had the reliable Orchestra of English National Opera in the pit.
To July 7; grangeparkopera.co.uk
