Twice as good

Cavalleria rusticana & I Pagliacci
English National Opera

Don Giovanni
Royal Opera

Cavalleria rusticana and I Pagliacci tend to be regarded by opera buffs as a couple of blowsy old tarts, still plying their trade long after they could plausibly expect any decent customers, and only to be contemplated or tolerated if they are wearing heavy disguise rather than merely thick layers of cosmetics. It’s to the credit of ENO and the team that has mounted the new production of what are routinely called ‘the terrible twins’ that they take both pieces seriously, and though there’s relocation in time and, with Pag., in place, they are not so ‘adapted’ as to be presented as more or as less than what they are. That turns out to be, in both cases, tense, exciting and moving.

Richard Jones at his best is doggedly faithful to the spirit of a work, and not amusingly or bemusingly unfaithful to the letter; and this is Jones on top form. Admittedly, there are trademarks which seem to be there only to remind us that it is indeed Jones in charge: his passion for brown cardboard boxes is in evidence in Cav., as well as his penchant for having a long narrow room into which people pour until it’s like a rush-hour tube. There is, surely, something about the opening of Cav., the music I mean, which suggests the open air and the atmosphere of Easter in Sicily, which makes an oppressive contrast with the state of mind and the plight of the characters. But Jones doesn’t want contrast, he only wants, and achieves, claustrophobia, the need to keep quiet, the hopelessness of having no one to turn to if you’re in an appalling position.