Parthenogenesis (ROH2)

It's very hard to judge a new opera. Operas are by their nature multi-layered; words, music and staging all combining to produce a coherent piece of theatre. Whatever the reasons then, the new Katie Mitchell production of James Macmillan's "Parthenogenesis" is a very poor night at the theatre.

Firstly and most crucially the libretto, which is of the deep and meaningful kind, is seldom transmitted with any kind of conviction. At the post-show discussion several panellists waxed lyrical about its intelligence but that doesn't mean squat when the audience can't hear it. What makes for a strong read doesn't necessarily make for a decent libretto. What I garnered from the text suggested a work far more interested in ideas than people and to my mind this never works. An emotionless void, there's no one to care about and this left me with little interest in the philosophical elements. Throughout I questioned why this was an opera at all. Macmillan's music is moderately attractive and certainly atmospheric but it largely acts as a soundtrack to a play we can't properly hear.

Staging a work unsurprisingly adds even more complications and Katie Mitchell has never been one to play things safe. The split set has the two singing roles apparently talking to each other whilst facing the audience. It's an interesting idea but it needs stronger actors to work. Neither of the leads quite sussed the focusing on the middle distance trick and several moments when the two characters were supposed to be next to each other just didn't work, tension was entirely missing. The cancerous daughter is apparently a Mitchell invention and it unbalances the work. It also highlights just how little I cared for the characters. Here is a figure on her death bed yet it all felt so totally inconsequential.

The casting is good if not great. Amy Freston wasn't a strong enough actor to pull off what is asked of her (which to be fair, is an awful lot) and her singing showed signs of strain at both ends of the register. Pity about her diction too, which was considerably worse than Stephan Loges'. Loges has more success in the ambiguous fallen angel role but he still comes a cropper of the staging. Apart from one high flung passage his voice sounded excellent and a smattering of words reached my ears. The third major role is a speaking one and gifted to Charlotte Roach something is made of it. These words could at least be heard.

This isn't an evening that will stay long in the memory. I'm sure the very best intentions went into it but ultimately it's a very unsuccessful endeavour. The big, philosophical elements just don't work and nor does any emotional strand. The whole Nazi Germany facet mentioned in the programme doesn't even get a look in. The Britten Sinfonia made a decent fist of the music, beaten through by the composer himself. Beyond the atmospherics there was little here that really gripped me either emotionally or intellectually. Given with surtitles and a pared back staging this might work, but in this production it's a dreary evening.