A Stormy Voyage: Opera North's Flying Dutchman Navigates Choppy Conceptual Seas at The Lowry, Manchester

Clearly very late. The fault is mine. Ed

Here at The Wagnerian, our ears are always keenly attuned to the latest stirrings in the world of Richard Wagner. Opera North, bless their bold hearts, has a well-earned reputation for daring interpretations, and their recent embarkation with Der fliegende Holländer at The Lowry in Manchester was certainly no exception. It was a production that, much like the Dutchman's cursed vessel, sailed into some rather tempestuous conceptual waters, yet ultimately, and thankfully, found its anchorage in magnificent musicality.

Annabel Arden’s directorial vision for this Dutchman was, to put it mildly, contemporary. Gone were the craggy Norwegian fjords and the quaint fishing villages. In their stead, we found ourselves amidst the sterile, unsettling confines of what appeared to be a modern-day processing centre – perhaps a metaphorical "Home Office" or a "ship of state" where the fate of wanderers is decided. The most striking, and indeed divisive, innovation was the framing of the Dutchman not merely as a spectral wanderer but as an asylum seeker, a concept underscored by recorded testimonies from real refugees. One can appreciate the ambition to draw parallels with Wagner's own peripatetic life and to imbue the work with immediate social resonance. However, for many a seasoned opera-goer (and indeed, for this humble scribe), the juxtaposition felt, at times, more like a forced marriage than a harmonious union. The modern-dress civil servants and the omnipresent computer code projected onto chainmail screens, while certainly thought-provoking, occasionally struggled to reconcile with the opera's inherent romantic and supernatural core. It was, shall we say, an intellectual exercise that occasionally detracted from the primal power of the drama.

Inexplicably, particularly in the initial scenes, certain forced "comedic" elements crept in. These instances, intended perhaps to lighten the mood or highlight the banality of bureaucracy, felt distinctly out of step with the profound, almost sacred, atmosphere Wagner builds from the very first notes. One found oneself wondering if a misplaced wink or an ill-timed gesture truly served the dramatic intensity of the work.  This is a Wagner opera, not Mozart's. A touch of the uncanny, perhaps, in the wrong sort of way!

Yet, what a joyous relief it was to find that, beneath the occasional conceptual flotsam and jetsam, the musical currents ran deep and true. The Orchestra of Opera North, under the commanding baton of Garry Walker, was nothing short of sensational. Walker conjured a soundscape that was by turns ferocious and tender, capturing the roiling storms of the overture with thrilling physicality and the opera's moments of introspective beauty with exquisite sensitivity. Wagner's score truly lived and breathed in their capable hands.

And then, the voices! Oh, the voices! The Chorus of Opera North deserves a special commendation for their utterly magnificent contribution. Their "Spinning Chorus" was a marvel of precision and energy, and their "Steuermann! Lass die Wacht!" was delivered with a powerful, almost visceral intensity that truly transported one to the deck of a storm-lashed vessel, despite the distinctly un-nautical set.

Robert Hayward, as the eponymous Dutchman, delivered a performance that was both vocally robust and dramatically compelling. His powerful, resonant baritone, imbued with just the right amount of tormented gravitas, perfectly embodied the weary, haunted figure. One truly felt the weight of centuries of restless wandering in his every utterance. As Senta, Layla Claire was a revelation. Her soaring, luminous soprano navigated the demanding role with remarkable assurance, capturing Senta’s obsessive fixation with a captivating blend of fragility and steel. It was a portrayal that delved deep into the character's psyche, bringing out a compelling, almost pathological, conviction. 

Clive Bayley’s Daland was suitably bluff and boisterous, a pragmatist through and through, even when reimagined as a bureaucratic functionary. His focused bass conveyed both his mercenary nature and a certain gruff affection for his daughter. And Edgaras Montvidas, as Erik, brought a lovely lyrical quality and genuine pathos to the often-thankless role, his tenor ringing out with appropriate anguish.

In conclusion, Opera North’s Flying Dutchman at The Lowry was a fascinating, if at times perplexing, journey. While the directorial concept may have stretched the very fabric of the original libretto to its limits, and indeed, stumbled slightly with those occasional misplaced attempts at levity, the sheer musical force of the evening was undeniable. It was a production that dared to ask difficult questions, even if the answers weren't always entirely convincing within the Wagnerian framework. Nevertheless, one departed the theatre reminded, once again, of the timeless power of Wagner’s music, delivered by a company truly at the height of its musical powers. A bravo, then, to the orchestra, chorus, and soloists, for ensuring that even a Dutchman grounded in modernity can still take flight!

By Fred Oswald, Assistant Editor