When I saw that Opera North was presenting a piece in conjunction with Shadwell Opera, I assumed that the North Leeds Suburb of that name had an amateur operatic society, news of which had failed to reach me. In fact, the company is from the East London Shadwell and is a professional outfit. I have seen some strange works since beginning to write about this music genre a couple of years pre-pandemic, but this has to be the weirdest by a long chalk – and that includes one with a singing teapot, cups and saucers.
The production didn’t begin very well, with an apology for there being a technical issue which would mean a delay to the start. It was quickly fixed and they got underway after five or ten minutes. It was a short piece, lasting about an hour, and was based on the goings on at The Devil’s Den, a Neolithic monument, a dolmen, in Wiltshire, and inspired by a painting of said structure by Ben Edges, see feature image. The composer, Isabella Ellis, has amalgamated the legend of the place with other “elements of ritual, superstitions and belief.”
The opera comprises five scenes separated by pieces from a troupe of Morris Dancers who we are told in the programme, function as a Greek chorus, although they don’t sing until the very end. Actually there was no physical programme, just a QR code on a door to the hall. I had entered via the other one and so didn’t realise help was available in understanding the work. It wouldn’t have been much use anyway, as, being downloaded onto a mobile device, it could not have been used as a reference during the performance. It was one of the brilliant staff members at Howard Assembly Room who pointed me towards the code after the performance. Regular readers will know that I normally refrain from reading the programme until after the performance anyway, as I believe that the work, no matter how obscure, should be able to be followed without further assistance. This, however, was a case where it was vital to gen up beforehand, as it is not straightforward, to say the least.
Scene One is an address to the inhabitants of “a nameless town, in an unknown time, somewhere in England” by a Druid. I would imagine that the location could be narrowed down to Wiltshire, as that is where the dolmen is; the timeline being blurred to include, not only ancient practices and attitudes, but also references to modern technology. Normally the excuse given for updating scenarios is to make the work more relevant to today’s audience. I certainly hope that this is not the case here as, there are some unspeakable practices indulged in.
Ossian Huskinson ad The Druid
The Druid gives particular advice to a pregnant woman who asks how she can make sure of a healthy birth. He tells her to send her daughter, known as the Child, to run around the dolmen seven times every night until the baby is born. This was the first confusingly weird part, as the Child was holding a baby in her arms, so it appeared to be she who wanted advice; the mother not being seen.
There followed a Bells Dance.
Scene Two sees the Child fulfilling the task but she is driven away by two creatures, one is the Devil, trying to remove the capstone from the structure, whilst a giant rabbit gives one-word instructions whilst reclining, offering no practical help whatsoever. The Devil and the Child do not speak the same language, in fact the former just makes irritating squeals. The Rabbit translates – obviously – and a dialogue begins.
A Stick Dance.
Scene Three. Some time later, the programme says, the Child is at home reading a list to her mother of things they can do together, but, as there is no mother on stage, it sounded as though she was just musing to herself. She then goes to the dolmen to collect some ramson (wild garlic) for her mother to infuse into tea. She again meets the Devil and the Rabbit, who work together and topple the capstone, at which point the Rabbit turns into a fire-breathing Toad, the Devil goes into a frenzy and scares the Child away.
Hanky Dance.
Devil, Lotte Betts-Dean and Rabbit Nick Morris
Scene Four and the Druid is holding another meeting, this time with the Child on trial, as the mother has had a miscarriage and she is blamed for bringing home white hellebore (an abortifacient herb) instead of ramson. Now that the capstone has fallen and the baby lost, the Child is declared to be bad and the Druid prepares to mete out justice.
Beasts Dance.
Scene Five involves a charivari (a folk custom to shame wrongdoers by singing and parading). The Druid leads the townsfolk in haranguing the Child who must atone. I was even more confused at this point, as the Druid took the aforementioned baby, which the Child was still carrying, and drop-kicked it across the stage! He then sang a short song, accompanied by the orchestra, dancers – who did sing at this point – and cast, passing judgement, before asking the audience to sing along – not once, but five times. He then tied the Child to the dolmen and the assembled crowd left her abandoned to meet her fate. The Devil arrived, released her and the pair walked away hand in hand.
Child, Jennifer France and Druid, Ossian Huskinson
Apart from the story in itself being weird and difficult to follow, I think that the technical glitch at the beginning must have affected the screen displaying the titles, as the words, especially when the Child sang, didn’t appear to correspond to those coming out of her mouth.
There was also the matter of the dancers. I lived in Sowerby Bridge for over twenty years and on the first weekend of September they hold a Rushbearing Festival which involves several groups of folk dancers in various styles, and I have never seen any so out of time as the Sheffield City Morris, who were performing here. Contrary to the photograph, they also looked totally disinterested in the event, especially the sing-along at the end. Mind you, they were not alone in that attitude. This is the first live music event I recall seeing in many a year where not one audience member stood during the applause, let alone whooped!
Devil, Lotte Betts-Dean and Child, Jennifer France
The style of the opera was very staccato, with no arias as such, but a succession of statements from the Druid, single words from the Rabbit, or gibberish from the Devil. The Child had much more singing to do which was in contrast to the rest by being quick-fire and, to my ears, mostly unintelligible, which is where I was let down by the titles screen. Ironically, the singing was the best part of the whole thing, the voices well suited to the roles they were playing. They were Jennifer France as The Child, Lotte Betts-Dean as The Devil, Nick Morris as The Rabbit and The Toad and Ossian Huskinson as The Druid. Fortunately, the baby was played by a woollen doll. The Orchestra was also very good, although it was one of those scores which seemed to be improvised, but wasn’t so I am happy to give them the benefit. Jack Furness was Director and Designer, with Rachel Wise Associate Director and Movement.
As you have probably gathered, this was not my cup of tea, had it been I would have added hellebore to it rather than ramson; but if you like the eccentric, bordering on psychotic, then I am afraid that you are out of luck, as The Devil’s Den was only performed on the one day. You can, however, see what Shadwell Opera is up to by going to https://www.shadwell.org.uk/ To catch work from Sheffield City Morris it is https://sheffieldcitymorris.org.uk/ Future events at Howard Assembly Room are at https://www.operanorth.co.uk/event-tag/har/
Photographs by Charlie Swinbourne. Feature image from Opera North.
Tyke It To The Limit 