Dalston has changed somewhat since 2007, the year that Arcola Theatre presented the first season of Grimeborn, its annual “alternative” opera festival. Now there are more natural wine bars, small-plates restaurants, jazz clubs and sourdough bakeries than you can shake a stick at. Yet there’s still grit and grime on the surrounding streets – this is London, after all – and Grimeborn still feels right at home there.
Its 2025 season closes with Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, one of the cornerstones of the 19th century repertoire. The opera derives from a Walter Scott novel; Rosie Kat’s production for Barefoot Opera makes passing reference to the Scottish setting by way of a folk song inserted before the opera begins, but the costumes are a version of everyday modern that could be anywhere.
The plot centres on the title character. Lucia loves Edgardo; all but imprisoned by her brother Enrico, she is forced to marry Arturo, who she murders on their wedding day. Cue the most famous mad scene in opera, so compelling that it almost overshadows the rest of the opera. Here, it’s framed by some rather forced carnivalesque, with silly hats all round and hints of homoeroticism that feel pasted on. The set is minimal, not much more than a raised circular platform, within which a coil of strip lighting creates a labyrinth. This is where we first see Lucia, curled up like an embryo. Later, she pulls up the strip light and wraps herself in it, as if creating an umbilical cord to protect herself.
The Arcola has neither the space nor the budget for an orchestra, but necessity begets invention. Laurence Panter’s ingenious musical arrangement requires just four musicians: himself on piano (occasionally also singing); saxophonist Lydia Kenny, who also delivers the introductory folk song; double bassist Lucy Mulgan; and Alistair Sutherland on accordion. Sutherland also has an important singing role and sometimes wears his instrument while in character, which doesn’t do a lot for the willing suspension of disbelief. In other ways, the unconventional lineup works well, even if it doesn’t sound remotely like an opera house orchestra – but that’s part of Grimeborn’s appeal.
The singing is less eccentric. As Enrico, Philip Smith radiates villainy, his voice hinting at the violence that is always on the verge of erupting. His pent-up anger is matched by the Edgardo of Jack Dolan, but there’s also real Italianate warmth in his tender moments with Lucia. She is rightly the centre of attention, and Beren Fidan has the presence to hold the stage throughout. She has the lithe grace of a dancer, and occasional moments of vocal harshness match the character’s torment. It makes for an uncomfortable but necessary watch.
Arcola Theatre, to September 13; arcolatheatre.com
