Hope ends in death. That thought colors every bar of Benjamin Britten Death in Venice (1973), in which an aging writer, Gustav von Aschenbach, has impossible desires for a beautiful boy he never speaks to. Fantasies breed like weevils in his soul. As Venice succumbs to an outbreak of cholera, he imagines that he and the boy are the only survivors. Still longing, still hunting for his lost youth, now with dyed hair and reddened cheeks, Aschenbach dies. (Given the title of the work, I risk the spoiler.)
With its 17 rapidly changing scenes, large cast and virtuoso orchestra, the opera – whose subject is also famous from Visconti’s 1971 film – poses challenges in the theater. Much was based on the Welsh National Opera’s first production of the work, directed by Olivia Fuchs, conducted by Leo Hussain, in association with the Cardiff-based NoFit State circus company. Collectively and individually they have triumphed. At a time of crisis and criticism of British opera, this is an example.
What must it have cost the ailing British to complete a work of such raw intensity?
Every problem has been solved, with first-class musical standards and a staging of daring imagination. The astute choice of Mark Le Brocq as Aschenbach alone would have carried the show. This versatile and reliable British tenor has taken on so many roles of all sizes and types over the years that his gifts may have been taken for granted. Vocally secure (he is rarely offstage), he acts with courageous silence and nuance, highlighting his character’s inner conflicts and vulnerability.
Written when Britten (1913-76) was confronted with his own mortality – his heart condition was no longer treatable – Death in Venice fires, problems, temptations. At times it is off-putting in the pathos of its portrayal of flawless human folly. Britten, whose inevitably repressed fascination with adolescent boys is well captured, pours everything into this final opera, with a libretto by Myfanwy Piper, based on the novella by Thomas Mann. What must it have cost the ailing British to complete a work of such raw intensity? He wanted it to be the best thing he’d ever done, and in that restless, awkward way, it is. In her program notes, Fuchs quotes Britten’s partner, Peter Pears, for whom Aschenbach was written, and says: “Ben writes an evil opera, and it kills him.”
Musically, the score surpasses the composer’s lost genius and demonstrates his mastery of new shapes and colors. Lavish with twinkling harp, lurid, agile bassoon, solo piano, it finds especially distinctive expression in the use of the gamelan, that shimmering, percussive Balinese visitor. Hussain brings together all the musical elements with pace and accuracy, in the pit and on stage.
An excellent ensemble cast, full of lively cameos, is led by baritone Roderick Williams, who delights in switching between different roles, as assigned by Britten, from sleazy fop to Charon-like gondolier, as he navigates Aschenbach across the Styx-like inky lagoon. The countertenor Alexander Chance, as the golden voice of Apollo, shone visually and vocally.
Fuchs’s coup is to replace the usual dancers for the boy Tadzio and his family with the acrobats of NoFit State. Their breathtaking somersault routines, however compelling, never distract from Britten’s music. The Belgian performer Antony César, who resembles an adult version of Björn Andrésen, who rose to fame in Visconti’s film, is an ideal Tadzio. Nicola Turner keeps her beautiful designs simple: essentially a black box with sensual monochrome images of Venice (video by Sam Sharples) and lighting by Robbie Butler. The Edwardian atmosphere of the original is retained, with Tadzio in a sailor suit, his family in white with parasols. The show is on tour until mid-May. If I can get it again, I will.
Bells, especially the unearthly toll of St. Mark’s, form a central musical motif Death in Venice. In a higher, more urgent mode they also appear in the sound world of Huge, by Sarah Angliss to a libretto by Ross Sutherland. First seen at Aldeburgh last year, this short work is partly spoken and has now had its London premiere, directed by Sarah Fahie, at the Royal Opera House’s Linbury Theatre. The subjects are the 18th-century Scottish surgeon-collector John Hunter and the ‘Irish giant’ Charles Byrne, who achieved unusual celebrity by growing to an immense height of 2.5 metres.
Knowing that Byrne’s life would be short, Hunter cunningly secured his corpse for his otherwise admirable scientific purposes. Karim Sulayman in the title role and Jonathan Gunthorpe as Hunter led the six-member cast. Angliss’s score, deftly conducted by Ben Smith and dominated by viola da gamba, recorder, theremin and electronics, offers a mesmerizing, if undramatic, meditation on the complex morality of this story.
The pianist Angela Hewitt stepped away from her usual high-profile international platform to perform with Fidelio Orchestra – a symphony orchestra founded to help launch the careers of aspiring musicians, as well as sprinkled with non-professional players – at St Andrew’s Church, Holborn. After a smooth rendering of JS Bach’s Concerto in D minor, BWV 1052, which she directed from the piano, Hewitt played Brahms’ early, powerful Concerto No. 1 in D minor, Opus 15, conducted by Raffaello Morales, the founder of the orchestra.
Related: ‘We’re all excited’: behind the scenes at the death of the Welsh National Opera in Venice – in photos
Hearing a repertoire piece like this in more intimate settings brought new rewards, but the importance here was Fidelio Orchestra’s goal: to give musicians of the future the opportunity to make music with the world’s leading artists, at events that accessible to everyone. They do. With tickets costing just £15 or £30, this is a venture worth supporting. Next concert: Mahler’s Symphony No. 6, June 15, at LSO St Luke’s.
Star ratings (out of five)
Death in Venice ★★★★★
Huge ★★★
Angela Hewitt ★★★★
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Death in Venice tours to Southampton (March 20), Oxford (March 26), Bristol (April 27) and Birmingham (May 11)