Luisa Miller is arguably the most bitter of Verdi's operas. It dates from 1849, a year after the abortive revolutions that convulsed Europe, and the despair of its times can be felt in its depiction of the affair between aristocratic Rodolfo and bourgeois Luisa, whose rebellious relationship is destroyed by the generational and class prejudices of their fathers. Some directors have shirked its political fire by viewing it as domestic drama. Stephen Medcalf's new Buxton festival production, however, presents it as angry, engaged music theatre.
He updates it to the 1890s, the years that saw the fomentation of the major revolutions of the 20th century. Walter (tight-lipped Balint Szabo) holds the balance of power with the aid of an out-of-control militia. Medcalf aligns bourgeois morality with religious rigidity, meanwhile, by controversially presenting Miller (David Kempster) as a member of a severe, emotionally blinkered Protestant sect.
Caught between this pair, Susannah Glanville's Luisa and John Bellemer's Rodolfo don't stand a chance, though Medcalf is anything but simplistic. Rodolfo shares some of his father's weakness of will. Luisa only rejects Miller's values fully when she is dying. The end, which finds Kempster and Szabo glaring at each other over their children's corpses, tells not only of human waste but of unfinished business and narratives.
Medcalf's rage finds its counterpart in a musical performance that is rough round the edges but compelling. Glanville and Bellemer have occasional high-note trouble, though their singing is so intense you overlook the flaws. Kempster, grimly fanatical, gives one of his finest performances to date. And Andrew Greenwood's high-voltage conducting keeps you on the edge of your seat.
