Opera

Ariodante

Theatre Royal, Glasgow

Keith Bruce

four stars

VIRTUE may triumph at the end of Handel's Ariodante, but it has a bumpy ride over the three hours, and none of the characters comes out of the narrative well. Our hero (mezzo Caitlin Hulcup) is too quick to believe his beloved fickle, and Ginevra (Sarah Tynan) is a bit of a princess, whatever she sings to the contrary. So if Spanish counter-tenor Xavier Sabata plays the mixing Duke of Albany as a panto villain – and he does – it is perhaps understandable.

Director Harry Fehr, whose free hand with Handel for Scottish Opera this time extends to adding some extra recitative to help the plot along, places The King (Neal Davies) and his beautifully-costumed retinue in a snow globe sometime early in the second half of the 20th century, and geographically no more specific. It might be the modernist foyer of an over-endowed evangelical church, or the atrium in the Edinburgh HQ of a life insurance company, but dog collars are worn by his advisers, and the death throes of sinners on the scaffold precede the rush to judgement that follows. Alongside resonances of current news reports of stoning for the crime of infidelity, Ginevra's handmaiden Dalinda, who helps Polinesso create the deception, is given masochistic tendencies (complete with echo of Maggie Gyllenhaal in the film Secretary), and Ginevra's false imprisonment sees her trousseau swapped for a Guantanamo orange one-piece.

As well as looking fascinatingly anachronistic – and giving the ever-dependable Kally Lloyd-Jones some real dancers to work with – this Ariodante is also consistently well sung, with all the principals – particularly not excluding tenor Ed Lyon as Ariodante's brother Lurcanio – making deceptively light work of some very tough stuff. Under Nicholas Kraemer, the orchestra is a quality baroque band with fine continuo playing, and on opening night the balance between the pit and singers onstage was as perfect as you could wish.