The Flying Dutchman at Opera Holland Park review: ambitious and intense

Any company planning a Richard Wagner staging would be well advised to proceed with caution; they’re among the biggest challenges in the repertoire. Opera Holland Park has indeed adopted a cautious approach: the company was formed in 1996 but is only now staging its first Wagner opera. Wisely, it has opted for The Flying Dutchman, Wagner’s fourth opera (premiered in 1843), rather than any of his far bulkier later works.

Not that the opera is lightweight. It’s a substantial retelling of the myth of a sailor – the unnamed Dutchman – who commits the sin of blasphemy. He is condemned to sail the oceans forever, only touching land once every seven years in search of a good woman whose love will redeem him. As is often the case in 19th century opera, the good woman – Senta, already betrothed to another man – must pay the price of the Dutchman’s redemption with her own life.

Julia Burbach’s new production sets out to exploit the dynamic spaces created by the way the Holland Park stage wraps itself around the orchestra. Sometimes it works but there are moments when the singers are so far beyond the orchestra that they seem disembodied. It doesn’t help that too often the soloists, even when engaged in passionate duet, barely even look at each other.

Sussie Juhlin-Wallén’s costumes have an engaging jumble sale chic, while the dominant feature of Naomi Dawson’s set is a menacingly raked gantry, at the centre of which is Senta’s bed. It makes for a striking stage image, slightly undercut by a trapdoor, through which both Senta and the Dutchman must clamber awkwardly. The chorus’s set pieces have plenty of energy, sometimes too much: its drunken cavortings feel somewhat forced.

The singers – chorus included – display fierce intensity throughout, matched by the appropriately brassy, occasionally brash orchestra, conducted with Wagnerian authority by Peter Selwyn. Robert Winslade Anderson’s deep, dark bass makes Daland a nasty patriarch, eager to sell his daughter if the price is right – and it is. At the other end of the vocal scale, tenor Neal Cooper evokes a frightening degree of anger in the role of Erik, the lover jilted by Senta.

A pre-performance announcement told us that Paul Carey Jones had been unwell and had missed the dress rehearsal. His opening night portrayal of the Dutchman as haughty and understandably self-interested showed few signs of strain, and he cut a commanding figure, even when silent. He is matched by the powerful presence of Eleanor Dennis’s Senta, vulnerable one moment, pensive or passionate the next. Her big second-act solo benefitted from atmospheric noises off: a dog barking happily, a peacock screeching at the wind. That’s opera in Holland Park for you.

Opera Holland Park, until June 14; operahollandpark.com