London’s two opera houses have been busy staging non-operas. Handel’s English oratorio, Jephtha, is his final exercise in a form that only existed because it was, explicitly, not opera (Georgian theatres needed something to play during Lent). We know better today, and dramatised reboots of Handel oratorios are proliferating, possibly because – unlike his actual operas – they give the chorus something to do. Katie Mitchell directed Theodora at Covent Garden last year. Now Oliver Mears has had a bash at Jephtha and has encountered the same basic problem. Operas seduce; oratorios preach. These are explicitly Christian, implicitly patriotic works, and what self-respecting contemporary director could allow that?
It was an act of artistic self-hatred that pandered to every snobbish prejudice about opera
It’s clear from early in Mears’s staging that he lacks the vocabulary – and possibly the will – to make historical or human sense of this particular story. True, Old Testament morality can be a little on-the-nose, and you can appreciate why a director might want to tease out some complexity.

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