English National Opera
16th September 2006
I don’t like pop music. I don’t like musicals much either. I’m also not terribly keen on politics unless it involves Boris Johnson or Derek from Big Brother 6. So, really, I should have hated Gaddafi.
It’s not really an opera, and it’s not going to encourage people to like opera. Anyone who decides to try out opera, and ends up buying a ticket for Gaddafi will know that this is not the sort of thing that usually goes on at the Coliseum. It’s more likely to make snobby classical music types like me realise that pop music isn’t so bad after all. It’s very difficult to describe Gaddafi. It has elements of musical. The spoken word is used, and, in those moments, it becomes theatrical. Film is used quite a bit, so a lot of it feels like being at the cinema. Then there are times when it is like being at a pop concert , only without the crowd surfinf and moshing, which sounds painful and claustrophobic. There are times when the Coliseum gets painful and claustrophobic, like when you’re sitting in the balcony in the middle of summer and you can’t feel the air-con, and you just want to murder those ushers, but you (perhaps fortunately) don’t have the energy. However, sitting in the Dress Circle in September, there are no problems at all. Finally, there are moments when the house lights go up, and Gaddafi addresses you, and it’s like being at a lecture of some sort.
It’s difficult to work out exactly what it is. You could say it’s an opera because it’s put on in an opera house, or you could say it’s a pop concert because most of the singers seem to be pop musicians. But it’s a great performance, and that’s the most important thing. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a great performance of an opera, a musical, or whatever. If it’s performed musically and enjoyably, it sholdn’t matter too much what it is. One of my music teachers once told me that there were only two types of music: good music and bad music. Gaddafi is good music.
The plot wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t always clear what was going on, or who was who, and there wasn’t really any sense that a story was progressing: more that a series of scenes was being presented. This is not necessarily a criticism: one could say the same of King Arthur and The Fairy Queen, and there’s nothing wrong with them. I might have understood better had I been slightly less ignorant, or if more detail had been offered in the programme. The programme, rather than being in the usual ENO format, was a large sheet of paper (A2?) folded into four, with black writing printed on green paper. This was not only very difficult to hold, but almost impossible to read in the Coliseum lighting.
However, the fact that the ‘opera’ was still so enjoyable says much for the music and the performers, and the power they gave to these individual scenes. And it ought to be said that any incomprehensibility was only related to the subject matter. As a rule, I find opera singers much easier to understand than pop singers, which is probably one reason why I prefer opera, but the diction was extremely good – far better than anything else I’ve heard at the Coliseum. These singers did have the advantage – if it is an advantage – of being miked, but I do feel that if I can understand pop singers singing in a style with which I’m not familiar, I should be able to sit through an opera production without desperately trying to remember the original words in German/Italian so I can work out what’s being said. So take note, ENO.
The central role of Gaddafi was sung by Ramon Tikaram. It was originally supposed to be someone called JC001, but the rap singer was replaced by an actor who does seem to be a very competent rapper. Tikaram gave an attention-grabbing and involving performance. It’s better to like your protagonist... but is it okay to like Gaddafi?...
All the singing was lovely, particularly that of Sharon Duncan-Brewster as Fatima. The other characters were quite difficult to tell apart at times – no, this work isn’t perfect yet – but there wasn’t anyone who made a nasty sound, or seemed stretched by the music, or seemed unsuited in some other way. This is quite unusual in opera.
Cunning Little Vixen
primi-divi at hotmail.co.uk