A new production of an opera based on a story we all know, a clutch of company debuts – including both conductor and director – and a red carpet rolled out on the tarmac outside. After the turbulence and uncertainty of recent years, English National Opera opened its first season split between the London Coliseum and its new home in Manchester with an energetic display of institutional confidence. Not to mention a clear commitment to all things fun.
Like other variants, Rossini’s take on the Cinderella story – usually known as La Cenerentola– is a rags-to-riches tale featuring a downtrodden heroine, her dreadful stepsisters and their equally awful father Don Magnifico. Plus a prince, his valet and a fairy godmother character that Rossini and his librettist transformed into a male philosopher, Alidoro. Julia Burbach’s colourful, contemporary-ish staging plays wittily with the story’s familiarity. A small team of uniformed mice equipped with clipboards, iPads and walkie talkies help Alidoro to keep the plot on track. Various shoes are handed around (although the operatic prince’s chosen form of bridal ID is a bracelet). And, instead of a pumpkin carriage, the stage is dominated throughout by a large metal-doored lift, which delivers the transformed Cinders to the party at the crucial moment.
Unlike most versions of Cinderella, though, Rossini’s is adorned with lashings of virtuosic ornamentation: even the vocal lines sparkle. Making her ENO debut in the title role, Deepa Johnny seemed to breathe coloratura, producing cascades of notes with her light, luminous mezzo as if nothing could be easier. But such music is ferociously difficult. Although Isabelle Peters and Grace Durham were a deliciously horrid double-act as the stepsisters and David Ireland was a warm, likable Alidoro, both Aaron Godfrey-Mayes and Charles Rice sounded overstretched as the prince (Don Ramiro) and his valet. The former made an impact only in his highest register, while the latter struggled to keep pace with the orchestra in his patter songs. Simon Bailey’s Don Magnifico was all bluster, his own approximate ornamentation dramatically fitting.
Making her ENO debut, conductor Yi-Chen Lin drove the pace throughout, the orchestra whirling along as a handful of dancers created near-constant movement on stage. Yet energy alone can’t carry Rossini’s score. More finesse and flexibility were needed, as well as neater coordination with the singers, who periodically parted ways with the pit as they laboured through the word-heavy English translation.
But then there were the men of the ENO Chorus. Dressed as the prince’s ancestral portraits – a mix of vintage sportsmen, military bigwigs and historical queens complete with wigs and bustles – they enlivened every scene they were in, their physical comedy pitch-perfect, their singing world-class. As ENO continues its own rags-to-riches bid, the chorus is undoubtedly the jewel in its crown.