The Arcola Theatre opened last week the 2023 edition of the Grimeborn Opera Festival, starting with a visually reinvented production of Otto Nicolai’s most succesful piece. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on this montage featuring an queer-inclusive company, to let us know if this marriage of songs and drama has made it smoothly down the aisle.
I taught your boyfriend that thing you liked. No, it’s not a quote. It just happened and I’m letting you know. Deal with it. Now let’s move on to the review. Because today we’re talking about infidelity, jealousy, cunning and manipulation. And surprisingly, the show doesn’t feature my name in the title. Welcome, everyone, to the opening of the Arcola’s 2023 Grimeborn Festival – a showcase of high-pitch zest, where some of the most acclaimed (and opulent) operas are revived on the small stage of, however, probably London’s best fringe theatre.
My first incursion into this venue was actually through its last year’s same-themed summer programming. By that time, one of the very first works ever made for this genre, Monteverdi L’Incoronazione di Poppea (haha, made you click) was playing. It was good in production and grand in its writing. Yet, I wasn’t too mesmerized on the whole, as the concept had quite a few flaws. But that was it. The only time – apart from another play my mind has repressed any memories of it to protect itself. As for the rest, this tiny space in heart of suburbian Dalston has proven to be one of the greatest in the entire city. And this production makes no exception at all.
The Merry Wives of Windsor have, in fact, every right to be glad, cheerful and even a little bit euphoric. Because not only has this production done justice to Otto Nicolai’s singspiel magnum opus – it’s been taken to a whole new level through a most remarkable performance. Directed by Kristin Lundemo Overøye and Lars Harald Maagerø (names I shan’t ever try to say out loud), this visually modernized version on Shakespeare’s classical comedy takes the house by storm by creating its own one – made out of hysterical laughter and over-the-top (but never excessive) camp.
Relying on a queer-identifying company, the show combines the traditionally assigned roles (sopranos play the ladies, tenors and baritones play the husbands) with a tiny bit of gender swapping. Is it necessary for the narrative? Not really. Does it affect it? On the contrary. It only adds up to the natural farcical tone of the opera, twisting the love affair a little bit further (the word ‘wives’ is in the title for a reason…) and making the entire thing fairly ridiculous – ridiculously good, that is.
Comprising a minimal yet satisfactory set design, the use of the scenic space is generally well executed – including a few minor interactions with the audience and, all in all, exploring some of the many possibilities the Arcola’s pliable stage has to offer. However, some moments could still benefit from a more intricate use of the auditorium’s highly versatile structure – and probe their ideas in a more original way to regale us with some memorable pictures.
Yet, any minor flaw is no obstacle to praise such a well put together production, where a most compelling understanding for the acting (sometimes completely unblemished) and its showmanship are the core ingredients for its quality and, ultimately, artistic success. Displaying technically impeccable vocals and providing us with a most amusing and laughable (in the best of senses) experience, the Grimeborn Festival has started its 2023 run with a piece that, though not dealing with royalty, is no doubt a crown jewel. You may now go ahead and pop the question. And I will confidently respond: yes, I do – I do recommend it. Wait, where’s my kiss?!
The Grimeborn Festival runs at London’s Arcola Theatre until 23 September. Tickets are available on the following link.