Who’s deceiving whom?

The more often I see Britten’s The Turn of the Screw, the more I am bewildered and fascinated by it.

The more often I see Britten’s The Turn of the Screw, the more I am bewildered and fascinated by it. There is no question that it is one of his most brilliant operatic scores, if not the most brilliant of all. One thing that never fails to astonish is the variety of interpretations that the work is susceptible of, both the score and the drama, though of course in a fine production they are complementary — and almost every production I’ve seen has been good. The latest version, from Opera North, is one of the most bemusing so far. About the musical side of it there can be no two views: Richard Farnes coaxes from his 13 players a performance of the most intense refinement, as well as of extraordinary richness. There are passages where he conjures an intoxicating sensuousness from the music, which in the context is unnerving as well as arousing — perhaps just what Britten intended, or would have liked to intend. Last time I heard the score it was under Charles Mackerras, equally masterly but more austere. With Farnes, a languor invades the score whenever possible, whereas Mackerras was urgent and edgy.

Farnes’s interpretation intersects in a complicated and interesting way with Alessandro Talevi’s direction and Madeleine Boyd’s designs: there is only one set, the most prominent feature of which is a four-poster, on which much of the action takes place. Huge semi-opaque windows lour behind it; it’s hard to tell what is reflected in them and what is coming from behind them. The furniture is nursery stuff, including a slightly insulting rocking horse — I mean, these children have graduated to much more sophisticated games than that.