• The Devil Inside – Scottish Opera – *****

    *****
    This review appeared first at Opera Britannia

    This electric new commission from Stuart MacRae and Louise Welshsizzles with energy, even amidst its doom-laden plot. It is one of the most interesting, well sung and well produced pieces of opera that has been seen on the Scottish stage for quite a few years. Scottish Opera andMusic Theatre Wales are to be highly commended for presenting such a large scale new piece of work which perfectly justifies any who might doubt the necessity of commissioning new opera.

    The starting point for this new work is a short story by Robert Louis Stevenson. Only the basic ideas remain in Louise Welsh’s libretto. Whereas Stevenson sets his story in Hawaii, Welsh brings us firmly into the modern day and asks the audience to imagine the tyranny of getting everything they might hope for. What if you could have your heart’s desire whilst always knowing that your soul was at risk for eternity?

    The basic premise is this. There’s an imp in a bottle who will grant you riches, health, and just about anything the owner of the bottle might desire. The bottle can be bought and sold but only ever at a lower price than the purchaser originally paid for it. Anyone who dies whilst owning the bottle faces their soul being tormented in hell forever. Clearly owing a debt to the Faust legend, this retelling of the story focuses on the sheer hell that can come from getting what you want. It deals in big themes of heaven, hell, death and judgement, exploring forgiveness and love along the way.

    Stuart MacRae wastes no time with an overture in his score. A brief rhythmic nod to Shostakovich ushers the first two characters on stage, climbing up from the pit into a minimalist staging where a very few props will take second place to a stunning lighting design for the rest of the evening.

    The two characters are a pair of friends who stumble across an old man’s house by accident. When he invites them in, a glittering reveal suggests his riches simply with light shining from hundreds of silver spheres hanging at different levels across the stage. It is the first of many visual rewards that keep coming all through the evening.

    The two characters are a pair of ordinary souls – people to whom extraordinary things are about to happen. Nicholas Sharratt’s Richard is a bit of a wheeler and dealer. He wants the bottle to come his way but doesn’t want to risk his soul at first. He persuades his friend James (Ben McAteer) to buy the bottle with the promise that he’ll take it of his hands later. In fact we’ll see the bottle change hands between them and others a number of times. There’s nothing separating the two friends vocally. Each is strong, powerful and clear. This was a production when the surtitles seemed genuinely superfluous. The words are set incredibly well and though the score is complex and offers many challenges to the ear, the words shine through brilliantly throughout. The production seems a particular achievement for Ben McAteer as he is a Scottish Opera emerging artist 2015/16. This is a brilliant work to have under his belt. Like Sharratt, the strength of his singing was matched by his acting.

    The old man from whom the bottle is purchased is played by Steven Pagewho will return later on in the evening as a vagrant who buys the bottle for almost nothing. Another fabulous voice was matched by strong character acting, the scene with the first sale of the bottle being particularly striking for its weirdness.

    The fourth and final voice on the stage is also wonderful. Rachel Kellysings the part of Catherine – the love interest for James. She has some of the most heartbreaking moments – discovering at one point that she is dying and at another (once she’s been healed by the imp of all that ailed her) that she will have no children.

    MacRae’s score steps easily from tonality to atonality. For much of the time, the small orchestra of soloists drawn from Scottish Opera is setting the mood simply through rhythm and sparse simple snatched phrases. Percussion features heavily. And what’s happening down in the pit is mirrored on stage. A single note or gong matches the tiniest detail on stage that tells us confidently where we are. An intense pinprick of light shows forth a star. A projected crosshatch of a window indicates a whole house. An airplane’s silhouette crosses the stage from one side to the other and a city appears in silhouette as the sun rises at the beginning of the second scene to particularly strong orchestral writing.

    Director Matthew Richardson has worked well with designer Samal Blakand Lighting Designer Ace McCarron to conjure up from the smallest details on a black, white and grey stage a whole world in which the action takes place. This is a confident production which never loses its way.

    All the best opera makes us think about ourselves. What would we desire if we possessed the imp in the bottle? At a time when extraordinary lottery wins are in the news, this is an opera which must make us pause and question whether getting what we want will ever make us happy. The strangeness of the imp, characterised by glowing smoke swirling around the bottle and high tinkling notes from the orchestra wheedles its way into the consciousness of the audience as we realise that it represents not merely the desires of the characters but our own desires too. If we got what we wished, would we be content? Would we be happy?

    Glasgow’s Theatre Royal sits at the top of Hope Street. This production asks everyone who sees it whether they could really bear to live existentially at the top of Hope Street, gaining their every desire just by wishing for it. Like the Midas myth of old, we know even as we watch one tragedy unfold after another that despite wanting happiness, so very many of us would like to try managing unfettered and out of control riches and power, falsely believing that somehow happiness will come our way with them.

    An ambiguous ending nevertheless seemed satisfying as everyone seemed to spill out of the theatre with an opinion of what it had all meant. You can scarcely ask for more.

    This is a brilliant new work that makes you think. It is spine tingling opera that everyone involved with can be supremely proud of.

20 responses to “Apologies have consequences too”

  1. Andrew Cain Avatar
    Andrew Cain

    You say so often and so eloquently what I feel.

    1. Father Ron Smith Avatar

      Food for serious thought, Father Kelvin. I don’t suppose there has been any objection raised by the Church of England Bishops about the liberalising ativity of our Norwegian partner’s in Christ. It is this continuing double-mindedness that exposes us Anglicans to the charge of structured hypocrisy. Keep up the good work you are doing on your web-site. Christ IS risen, Alleluia!

  2. Alan Wilson Avatar

    Thank you, Kelvin. It’s certainly a change of the mood music going on, but self-lacerating apologies are subject to the law of diminishing returns unless they indicate what we call “Metanoia” – change of mind, aka repentance. This means things real change. Without it, apologies breed cynicism, not hope. When, for example, a bishop tells us he is ashamed whenever he encounters homophobia in the church, curious minds want to ask him “when did you last encounter what you call homophobia in the church? What was it like? How was it separable from the ideology that validated it? And since it’s such a shameful thing, what are you going to do about it?”

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      The real disconnect for me is that Justin Welby is someone who clearly does know something about what reconcilliation is. He can’t have done that job in Coventry and not known and he can’t have named reconcilliation as one of the key strands of his time as Archbishop without knowing that metanoia is part of the deal if that is what you are chasing after.

      However, I can only come back again and again to the possibility that there are those who simply think that LGBT are indeed actually worth less than real people.

      1. June Butler Avatar
        June Butler

        Kelvin, after I read your words about the empty apologies by authorities in the church after which their behavior does not change, I could not help but think what you stated in your comment, that the leaders, with exceptions like Alan Wilson, believe LGTB folks are lesser. What else can we think? My advice would be to stop apologizing and be honest, which would be a step in the right direction, because at least the hypocrisy would end.

  3. adrian copping Avatar
    adrian copping

    Thank you for this. Something similar has been happening here in Wales in the past week or so where our Bishops have apologised AND issued some prayers which are authorised for use in connnection with ministry to LGBTI people. This is to be welcomed as a sign of a step in a positive direction but, at the same time, leaves a lot of questions and many disappointed.

  4. Bob Webster Avatar
    Bob Webster

    Saying it is a “constant source of deep sadness that people are persecuted for their sexuality” is not an apology. At best it is a request that someone should stop making him feel bad. That could be the people doing the persecuting, or it could be us who should just be quiet and preferably go away. An apology would be “I apologize for the hurt I have caused and as a consequence of recognizing my sin I will cease that behaviour and do everything I can to get others to stop as well.”

  5. Ruth Richards-Hill Avatar

    Kelvin, you are an expert at stating things so eloquently that makes everyone else in the Anglican communion squirm.

    I was not oblivious to the fact that as a lesbian woman I entered a family of churches with a huge diversity of attitudes towards my sexuality. It was only because of the grace and love of Jesus Christ that I felt safe to come into the church despite my “flaws” and receive baptism. Is my baptism any less valid because I am a lesbian?

    As a convert from Orthodox Judaism I suspect that I am sometimes more acutely aware than others at what should be in my mind a glaring hypocrisy. Rabbinical thought always looks for an alternatives to explain why a certain situation does or does not apply according to halachah (ecclesiastical law – much like the canons). But the balance either exists or it doesnt. Jesus speaks about divorce and makes it quite clear that its not really an option, while in rabbinical law, it certainly is an option. We are taught that he came to fulfil the law and yet we his church are part of a new covenant are we not? The church seems to have taken the easy way out and will marry people who have divorced, but will not marry gay couples. So if divorced people are part of the new covenant, why arent us gay folk?

    I could get into all the biblical quotation arguments and as someone that reads Classical Hebrew better than most Anglicans I know, I have no fear in taking a stand on my point. (My Greek needs a little more work however.) That said, I dont see a balanced biblical foundation for excluding some that are automatically excluded by literal translation of scripture, but not others, but rather an inherited bigotry and hypocrisy that continues to thrive simply to satisy the whims of member churches whose societies havent quite experienced the journey that ours has. While that doesnt invalidate their position, neither does it invalidate the position of our society and our spiritual progress should not be hindered to satisy the agenda of those religious leaders that appear to be pandering to the demands of those churches that have not walked the path of ours.

    I have arguments that cover more than simple translations and exegesis particularly surrounding what the rules were both before and after the death of Christ, but those are for another day. I know that I am a baptised Christian and Jesus loves me as much as any other, not because I am gay or straight, but because I am one of his, and therefore he wants me to thrive within his covenant rather than the stifling, unreasonable and hair splitting laws that came before – Ones that I personally know how incredibly impossible they are to live by, no matter what your sexuality, or colour, or intellectual ability. – I was there once.

    When our Bishops and leaders realise that Christ died exactly to make the Christian lives of the likes of me equally valid as straight people, then perhaps we’ll make a little more progress and not see these “apologies” as merely lip service. Its almost embarrassing to LGBT people for whom their faith is a core part of their lives. It certainly is for me.

  6. Ruth Harley Avatar

    Any child in my Sunday School group could tell you that repentance is not just “saying sorry” it is “saying sorry, being sorry, and changing”. Possibly ++Justin’s words make it as far as the first of these, but I’m not convinced they signify the second, and the third is nowhere in sight. Perhaps I should send my 5 year old theologians to Lambeth and/or Lusaka to explain! Or perhaps it’s just that those who are issuing these ‘apologies’ aren’t really thinking in terms of repentance, or seeing the need for it, at all.

  7. Mark Falby Avatar
    Mark Falby

    Apologies mean nothing if not backed by action.

  8. Junia Avatar
    Junia

    Well I did recently get brutally and spectacularly dumped by an American lesbian, so perhaps they just are naturally more wicked over there…

    In seriousness though, thank you for this wonderfully elegant post, Kelvin, summarising so much of what I have felt since ++Justin’s statement in January. I’m starting to get a little sick of being apologised to.

    1. Cynthia Avatar
      Cynthia

      Speaking as an American lesbian, I’m sure the Norwegian lesbians are much better people, and that we are “naturally more wicked…” 😉

      Kelvin expresses well the debacle of January. But interestingly, Justin just delivered an amazing sermon at ACC-16 that marks a major change of heart and theology if he’s sincere. We’ll see. A lot has happened since January.

      Have a look at the sermon, it’s in the Anglican Communion news. I’d hate to think that those are just empty words. Time will tell. But I want hope.

      1. Kelvin Avatar

        Could you point us towards the sermon, Cynthia. I’m not seeing anything at all that’s new in relation to the things I’ve written about above.

        1. Cynthia Katsarelis Avatar
          Cynthia Katsarelis

          Here it is: http://www.anglicannews.org/news/2016/04/new-calls-for-new-times-archbishop-welbys-presidential-address-to-acc-16.aspx

          To me this seems like a new direction, born of recent realities, and perhaps inspired by the Holy Spirit.

          Of course, my hopes could be typical, off-the-charts American optimism. We wicked American Episcopal lesbians just know that the Promised Land is at the end of the next rainbow.

          1. Kelvin Avatar

            Cynthia – this is what I was writing about above. It isn’t a new direction. It is what I’m complaining of. Talk of reconciliation whilst not engaging in it.

            There’s not a word in it about a new direction on the way the ABC relates to the Anglican Communion’s troubles. Not one.

          2. Cynthia Katsarelis Avatar
            Cynthia Katsarelis

            It seems like he was asking people to focus on the major characters, climate change and religious violence, and to work together within our diversity. That sounds like a new tack. Of course, it will be interesting to see if this translates into action. Will the discrimination against married clergy stop? Will the ABC stop pandering to the primates who didn’t show up to ACC-16?

            You might be right, you seem very prophetic to me. But I want you to be wrong this time. I want hope, and to work together on things that actually matter.

          3. Kelvin Avatar

            There are simply no signs of what you hope for, Cynthia. None.

          4. Cynthia Katsarelis Avatar
            Cynthia Katsarelis

            Perhaps not. But I was recently a TEC delegate to the UN Commission on the Status of Women where I met a posse of awesome women from the Anglican Communion Women delegation. We had great interaction and they affirmed a “walking together” statement they wrote in 2007. It says they are staying in communion, no matter what the guys do. We women in TEC are drafting a response, graciously receiving and affirming the statement. Against this, Justin doesn’t stand a chance and he might as well change his tune.

            PS. One of the awesome delegates was a Rachel from St. Andrew’s, Scotland.

  9. Richard Barnes Avatar
    Richard Barnes

    I was really hopeful about the Anglican Communion’s purpose from reading Rachael’s blogs from UN CSW last month. But not for long. ABC Welby’s Sermon reads like a random speech generator and says much the same as he’s been doing for months in global fora.
    It’s like a couple who talk about the garden and the difficult neighbours because they don’t want to talk about their sex life.
    Clever way to end ACC with everyone apparently united by talking about bigger issues.
    But to read ++Welby asking for nuanced theology, when he’s totally binary (Christian=happy, healthy, wealthy & wise) just made me laugh.

  10. Robin Avatar
    Robin

    > In the last week we’ve had the latest document on family life to come from the Vatican and it is very clear that there’s a change in tone from the current pope and it is hard not to welcome that.

    I don’t see any change of tone in the following, which is the beginning of paragraph 251 of “Amoris Laetitia”.

    > 251. In discussing the dignity and mission of
    the family, the Synod Fathers observed that, “as
    for proposals to place unions between homosexual
    persons on the same level as marriage,
    there are absolutely no grounds for considering
    homosexual unions to be in any way similar or
    even remotely analogous to God’s plan for marriage
    and family”.

    I’d call that a monumental snub, deliberately administered, or an equally deliberately administered drenching with cold water.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Posts

  • It’s the Internet, stupid…

    Quick quiz question to begin the day: Which is greater – the number of people who have visited this blog this year, or the number of people who are present in the Scottish Episcopal Church on a typical (ie the week before Advent when the figures are counted) Sunday? It is an unfair question in…

  • Zebedee redux

    I’m really most grateful to Fr Madpriest for sending in this re-consideration of the Zebedee window that I was referring to the other day.

  • Territory

    I’ve heard about fighting in Christian churches in Israel/Palestine at the great festivals before, but the video above does show it rather graphically. The fighting is a consequence of thinking of one’s Christian mission territorially. The Scottish Episcopal Church generally tends to sit rather lightly to territoriality. We don’t really have much of a concept…

  • Zebedee

    One of the nice things about being in a church like St Mary’s at Christmas is that we can keep the little festivals known as the Companions of Christ. I celebrated a mass yesterday for St John and was pleased to see more than a dozen folk out. It has made such a difference moving…