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Initially The Merry Widow seems like a pleasant, albeit stuffy, operetta. But with patience you discover the wit and charm that has made this 101-year-old story a special favourite with audiences everywhere.
Set in Paris and Pontevedro at the turn of the 20th century, Franz Lehár’s famous work tells the story of Hanna Glawari, the widow of a banker who left her a large sum of money. This has made her the most eligible woman in Paris.
But Hanna has eyes for only one man; Count Danilo Danilovitsch, the first secretary of the Pontevedrian Embassy. The ambassador, Baron Zeta, has his eye on Hanna’s money. His country is on the verge of bankruptcy and her wealth could save it, provided she doesn’t marry a Frenchman. The baron urges Danilo to marry Hanna; if not for love, then for the fatherland.
But Danilo, who it turns out is Hanna’s embittered yet philandering ex-lover, is not keen to rekindle old fires, even though he still has feelings for Hanna he won’t admit to.
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It is his reluctance and the ensuring cat-and-mouse game that fuels the dramatic action.
Highlights of the production include Hanna’s solo at the beginning of the second act, The Vilja Song, which tells of the huntsman’s unrequited love for a woodland girl. However, what is unforgettable is the all-male song Who Can Tell What The Hell Women Are? Complete with the cancan and other dance sequences reminiscent of Ziegfield’s Follies, it is a cleverly conceived and choreographed number that artfully sends up the popular form of entertainment of the time.
On the whole, the Carl Rosa Opera Company delivers a performance that is slick, elegant, honest and, above all, entertaining. A wonderful production to see in the newly refurbished Johannesburg Civic Theatre.
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An evening of pure enchantment pretty well sums up what audiences can expect from this polished production of Lehár’s masterpiece in which everything comes together to delight eye, ear and heart.
Not for nothing does the reputation of London-based Carl Rosa Company precede it to arouse great expectations in spectators. The calibre of the leads, quality of the chorus, pace of the production, and supreme good taste of the presentation leave little, if anything, to be desired. Local musicians mainly from Cape Philharmonic have been recruited for accompaniment, and the considerable experience of internationally acclaimed conductor Wyn Davies, of New Zealand Opera, is brought to bear on their innate talent to elicit sterling musicianship through the opera’s duration.
As for the singers, there are no weak links in the sizeable cast. Jan Hartley makes a delectable Hanna; essentially gentle but with a dash of attitude to lend interest to the persona. Her clear, sweet voice delivers every note with understated confidence, secure in every register – and her strong stage presence is an added asset. When she first appears in an outrageously modish hat and matching ensemble, she is like a breath of fresh air in the stuffy milieu of conservative Pontevedrian society, immediately capturing both attention and sympathy.
Karl Daymond, as her lover Danilo, has all the qualities that make this anti-hero so attractive. Apart from a pleasing appearance, he musters a well-judged measure of comedy without
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cheapening his character. His timing is faultless and he is predictably exasperating in his tete-a-tete with Hanna as he resists articulating those three little words… His rich baritone meets the vocal challenges of his role effortlessly.
The secondary couple of the plot, Valencienne (Victoria Joyce) and Camille (Amos Christie) offer a piquant counterpoint to the relationship between the leads, with both roles authoritatively handled. Christie musters an impressive degree of lung-power for his compact build, and his interaction with Joyce is convincingly tender.
Barry Clarke gives an excellent reading of the fatuous Baron Zeta, a part to which he brings long experience of character roles. While to some extent a caricature, he keeps the Baron within the bounds of credibility an amusing foil to the quartet of lovers in whose intrigues he becomes embroiled.
Romance is the very stuff of which The Merry Widow is wrought, so no opportunities are wasted for suggesting it. The staging of Hanna’s garden is particularly successful in this regard, with festoons of lights against a velvet-dark sky and extravagant attire giving the affair an air of light-hearted fantasy, the ideal setting for lovers’ assignations.
This Carl Rosa production, with its reworked text courtesy of Jeremy Sams, provides superb entertainment for those who love opera – and those who do not.
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“This marvellous new production of Franz Lehár’s operetta is probably the most perfect version of The Merry Widow we shall see this decade and I guarantee it will make you weep with pleasure.
The Carl Rosa Company has pulled out all the stops and they have spent a great deal of money. And so the magical story of the young millionaires Hanna – glamorous, but level-headed as she looks for a husband in Paris and meets an old lover – is a frame for a new libretto by Jeremy Sams, thus some of the most haunting music ever penned by any composer is given a new life with exceptional dialogue.
The sheer vivacity and musical quality of the production from these young and handsome singers celebrates triumphantly the 100th birthday of Lehár’s masterpiece. Here are actors who can sing and singers who can act, young people who move through the evening in a way I can only applaud. There is no blurring in Sams’s version which is directed with admirable sensitivity by Michael McCaffery.
Characters speak naturally convincingly and the stage seems to be filled with individual men and women with personal agenda. And how much better this is than the unconvincing blur of an anonymous chorus which has been so often the curse of the musical theatre stage.
The great feature of the Carl Rosa Company has always been its attention to sets and costumes. But on this occasion even the CRC has surpassed itself.
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The first act takes place in the mythical Pontevedrian Embassy and so the mood is set for the rest of the evening with Hugh Durrant’s gorgeous colours of amethyst and lilac used against huge mirrors to create a sumptuous stateroom beneath a huge chandelier.
Later, the Parisian garden where much of the intrigue takes places evokes perfectly the belle époque of 1905 with a stunning silhouette of trees under the moon encircling a setting of summer lanterns and garden pavilions where Valencienne (Victoria Joyce) and Rosillon (Ivan Sharpe finding all of those top notes) pursue an illicit love affair. This is the moment when you have Lehar’s exquisite “Come to my little pavilion” filling the night air and sung here perfectly.
Jan Hartley is ravishing as the merry widow herself appearing in a series of fashion plate gowns themselves worth the price of the ticket money. Hand how Ms Hartley can sing.
And what anguish she can provide for us as her love affair waxes and wanes. Her Count Danilo is Earl Carpenter who has wit, charm and a voice for the great waltz sequence. But there is much fun when the men sing of the joys and uncertainties of women while Victor Spinetti is glorious as the ageing Pontevedrian Ambassador whose young wife is generally busy in the garden pavilion.
At this point I’m afraid I have run out of superlatives, but you will have gathered by now that this exceptional company has a hit on its hands as it moves down to London.
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“Lavish sets, fabulous music, exquisite costumes and dancing girls, The Merry Widow has it all.
Playing at the Grand Opera house in Belfast all this week, this operetta – don’t let the term put you off for this is a fun, professional and extremely enjoyable production – transports you to a world of romance and decadence.
Although first performed in 1905, the widow Hanna (played by Jan Hartley) is as glamorous as ever, while Baron Zeta, aka Victor Spinetti, is larger than life and provides many of the best light moments.
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The singing is superb, particularly from Karl Daymond as Count Danilo, Deborah Myers in the part of Valencienne and Hartley.
The dancing and singing envelopes you, providing a spectacle and the only thing missing from the first scene in the Pontevedrian Embassy in Paris was the Ferrero Rocher.
You will be glad to know that, in the traditions of all the best fairytales, it has a happy ending.
A night out with the glamorous window is just the ticket.
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