• 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.

27 responses to “A Response to the Prime Minister”

  1. Patsy Avatar
    Patsy

    Dear Kelv

    You make some interesting points. But do you have to be so rude? All the “Dave” stuff is a bit juvenile. If you want to have a serious debate surely you can show a bit of respect? Also maybe a little charity – was it really necessary to be quite so snide (I almost said “nasty”) about the PM’s rather hesitant comments on his own faith?

    1. william Avatar
      william

      Well said and well put – Patsy.
      Sadly ‘revisionists’ don’t seem to recognise ‘rudeness’, lack of ‘charity’, ‘unattractiveness’ in what they say and do within the church, although they believe they recognise them and see them in others.
      It could be that blindness to all of this is because of the paucity of grace in their mindset; Pelagians don’t feel the need for grace or atonement as much as the rest of us.
      They seem to assume God is always smiling on them, and is always pleased with the worship they present to Him, whatever its content or assumptions. Even in whatever behaviour they engage in, even boast of.
      In Jeremiah’s day, in contrast, the religious were warned frequently with words like: peace, peace – when there was no peace. But most did not have ears to hear such warnings.
      Maybe your wisdom will strike a chord of caution.

      1. kelvin Avatar

        >They seem to assume God is always smiling on them

        Oh yes! Oh yes!

      2. Ryan Avatar
        Ryan

        William, you and Pasty know (or should) that ‘Dave’ is a popular phrase quite widely used to refer to Cameron’s ‘couch sofa’ style Blairist governing style and his attempts to *present himself* as a man of the people rather than a privleged OE. Dare one say that calling a David ‘Dave’ is , in terms of rudeness, not exactly up there with demonising gay people, nor implying that someone who disagrees with an opinion *on* a theological matter is somehow ignorant *of* theology?

        Can you cite a ‘non’ revisionist expression of church that offers worship that would please the God of Jeremiah, William? Personally I think the sort of glorious Eucharists that St.Mary’s feature hit closer to the mark than either (say) Shine Jesus Shine style worship songs or the glum langours of (e.g.) ‘biblical’ presbyterianism, but YMMV….

        Also, given that this is the same David Cameron who appeared in gay mag Attitude suggesting that the C of E could take lead from the now (relatively) gay-friendly tory party and giving it the sackcloth-and-ashes in regard to Section 28, I do have to laugh at self-styled fundamentalists accusing beastly Kelvin of being so mean about Cameron’s in-no-way-largely-for-political-gain theological musings.

  2. william Avatar
    william

    Ryan – have a happy christmas – William!

    1. Ryan Avatar
      Ryan

      Ah, robust and scrupulous engagement with comments as always William! 😉

      And also, as they say, to you.

  3. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    “It could be that blindness to all of this is because of the paucity of grace in their mindset; Pelagians don’t feel the need for grace or atonement as much as the rest of us.
    They seem to assume God is always smiling on them, and is always pleased with the worship they present to Him, whatever its content or assumptions. ”

    This is not merely inaccurate but terrible theology.
    1-Nobody is more scrupulous about worship than Kelvin. The content of Episcopal worship is (unlike that of denominations less heavily influenced by the Catholic tradition) carefully prescribed.
    2 – Grace, in the Reformed sense is, in fact, a frequent theme of his sermons.
    3 – The real trouble with Pelagians is that they assume they have to EARN the favour of God – and that he is not very likely to be induced to smile on them. It is Athanasians who believe that God comes to them, and despite their inability to get things right, smiles on them. You have reversed the two. Allow me to suggest that Kelvin’s theology, which as one who has listened to him and read him, I think I understand, is such that he knows he is beloved by God even if he sometimes gets things wrong. Whereas you write as though you think you have to get your theology and other assorted beliefs right to be loved by God. But it is not so. Even people who make the most astonishing mistakes God are still his children, loved and carried in his heart.

    1. kelvin Avatar

      Right on all counts, Rosemary. There is nothing I can do to make God love me more. I’m already utterly loved. Morality, ethics, grace and love are all predicated on that love being entirely unwavering. There is nothing that I can do (even less believe) that would make God love me more.

      I would add that I have been to a place which claims to be the tomb of Athanasius.

      (It was a little smelly).

      1. william Avatar
        william

        How profound, and yet how gloriously true – “There is nothing I can do to make God love me more.”
        That’s the whole biblical meta narrative – God does everything, even recreates us in the image of His Son by His Spirit – as Paul said, we are ‘new creation’.
        And our heavenly Father has done all this for us that He might have children bearing the family likeness – not that our obedience will make Him love us more.
        But disobedience to what He has spoken will surely lead to fatherly chastisement.
        So in that regard there is always more we can do, as opposed to “There is nothing that I can do”. Good fathers do not smile on their children’s disobedience, even though they do not love them less.
        Sadly Pelagius pursued and taught the route of meritorious good works to please the Father [and the heresy is still vigorously alive today] – he was blind enough to think he might even be able to do this.
        Augustinians pursue grace – but increasingly their lives are being conformed to the likeness of Christ as Jesus said, by their fruits you will know them.
        Righteousness by faith is not a legal fiction!

  4. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    There appears no way of liking Kelvin’s comment ‘oh yes,oh yes,’ but consider it very heavily liked.

    Somebody tell william that getting me going on Jeremiah might not be wise. Oh, I know, tell him to read http://lovebloomsbright.wordpress.com/2011/12/13/with-justice-and-with-righteousness/

    1. william Avatar
      william

      Rosemary – I did read it and found it intensely moving.
      Probing the intensity of the Father’s yearnings over His ancient people is only matched [fulfilled is maybe a better word]by His Son’s brokenness for us at Gethsemane and beyond.
      Yet that’s the way – the only way – for us ever to have His smile upon us.
      Have you done a reading on Isaiah 5?

      1. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
        Rosemary Hannah

        That is very sweet of you william- and actually Is 5 is an excellent suggestion for one of my pieces.
        I would say that, essentially, the yearning of the father and the brokenness of the son are contiguous aspects of one phenomena.

  5. David Baker Avatar
    David Baker

    So we have a Prime Minister defending the Bible, and an Episcopalian provost attacking it?

    1. kelvin Avatar

      No, David Baker.

      I love the Bible and delight in it.

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