Power and money makes us ridiculous and infantile — it is of the unwilling object of his desire. The tone of Handel’s opera is uncertain — not exactly an opera seria, style.

Particularly impressive were soprano Claire Booth as Emilia and the exceptionally promising countertenor Stephen Wallace as her fiancé Guido. Both rose superbly to the challenges of Act II where Handel’s score turns darker and more emotionally searching. Booth sang ‘Ma chi punir desio’, following Emelia’s discovery that Guido has killed her father, with a tremendous expressive range and Wallace matched her intensity in his moving aria ‘Amor nel mio penar’. But Flavio, the story of the
King of Lombardy who, by way of a series of machinations and misunderstandings, eventually learns the meaning of true love and gives up his violent pursuit
it undoubtedly has its serious moments. But in the main, its thrust is that of a romantic comedy, focusing on a set of illicit relationships in which the quest for love is constantly frustrated but eventually finds its rightful goal.

Jones’ production is, as usual for this director, heavily conceptual without being too absurd. An ironic approach rather suits the hybrid nature of this piece and, on the whole, Jones just about gets the tone right. However, her conception of Flavio (a very game Andrew Radley) as a monstrous garden gnome eating jelly-babies, throwing spoilt-brat tantrums and taking refuge in a wendy house is, I would suggest, a touch over-the-top.

The Early Opera Company fielded an excellent cast, utterly committed to this music and well versed in its there was much else besides to be savoured, including a magisterial portrayal of Lotario, one of the king’s counsellors, by Latvian bass Pauls Putnins and a wonderfully sexy turn from Kim-Marie Woodhouse as Teodata, doted upon by her boyfriend Vitige (nicely characterised by Catherine King) and lusted after by Flavio. Conductor Christian Curnyn brought his characteristic nose for drama to the score, full of edgy though occasionally ragged attack.

This production was first performed at the Queen Elizabeth Hall in London, but as is often the case, seeing it in the intimate and charming cloister at Iford was far more rewarding an experience (the London performance tried to emulate this intimacy by using video projections of the singers, but Iford proves again and again that there’s nothing like the real thing when it comes to close-ups.) The Iford festival, in a breathtakingly beautiful, pastoral setting just outside Bath, has become one of the unsung glories of the British operatic summer. It combines just the right air of welcoming informality with real artistic merit in a unique environment that lends a human touch to the larger-than-life absurdities of opera.

Ashutosh Khandekar, Opera Now


NOT even a power failure, which blacked out the entire neighbourhood, leaving the final two scenes to be played by two gas camp lights, could dim director-designer Netia Jones’s modern dress production of Handel’s infrequently seen tragi-comedy.

Nor the audience’s warm response to the company as they took their bows by lamplight.

You can appreciate why this opera is rarely performed by big companies in major halls. It is an intimate piece, ideal for this superb unique space. There was no chorus work and the majority of the slightly repetitive score is sung as solos. One notable exception was the reconciliation duet between counter tenor Stephen Wallace, as Guido, a young man forced into a fatal duel against his prospective father-in-law to redeem his father’s honour, and Claire Booth, as his heartbroken fiancee, Emilia.
She was undoubtedly the vocal star of the evening: her solos at the death of her father and pleading with King Flavio for justice were sung with clarity and great depth of feeling.

Philip Salmon, a late replacement as Guido’s father, quietly created a fine picture of this too-easily-offended man, contrasting nicely with Paul Putnins, as Emilia’s rigid father Lotario.

Kim Marie Woodhouse won the dramatic honours as the flirtatious Teodata. One minute she was leading Andrew Radley’s over-amorous king on with a lovely twinkle in her eye — the next, teasing her boyfriend, Vitige, who was stylishly played by Catherine King.

Andrew V Jones’s English translation took us through the sometimes complex twists and turns of the plot clearly and concisely.

The round of applause given by the cast to musical director Christian Curnyn and his expertly balanced orchestra, which was thoroughly endorsed by the audience, was completely deserved.

If ever there was a case of horses for courses, this is one. Handel’s opera will have to search far and wide for a more appropriate venue.

Gerry Parker, Bristol Evening Post