Benjamin Britten’s unspoken life pulls its veil down in this intimate play dealing with his deepest infatuations. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if its recount about one of the richest figures in classical music was actually a beggar’s opera.
An artist’s soul is printed on every stroke of their work. The most harrowing secrets can be turned into pearls of beauty – hiding their unconfessed truth behind their seemingly sparkling radiance. The story of the misunderstood genius that brings joy to the hearts of millions but can’t find redemption for his own has been forged with a special kind of strength. Possibly, because that’s the reality that so many creators, over the course of centuries, have been forced to deal with. Their only way to show their actual selves is behind their palettes of talent. But behind all that refinement, lies a earthier longing that, despite their many attempts, never ceases to exist.
Benjamin Britten’s glow and darkness shines through the words of Turning The Screw, a new play by Kevin Kelly exploring the not-so-known personal life of one of Britain’s most celebrated composers. Directed by Kevin Kelly, the show is set during the auditions for the opening of Britten’s newest work, through which he will get acquainted with a young promising choir boy he’ll decide to take under his wing. A deep bond will soon be developed between master and apprentice, as they’ll slowly find out they profess to each other something greater than just artistic admiration. A sentiment that goes beyond the understanding of anyone around them. And despite its innocent purity, against the codes of a berating society.
Parting from an engaging, thought-provoking premise, the script manages to build a thorough, compassionate observation on its characters – bringing out the challenging traits of their behaviour while also opening our eyes into their own perspective. It may be awkward to comprehend, but it doesn’t feel judgmental. It’s just the picture of someone wose sentiments of infatuation may cross the moral line of people’s standards, but they never mean any wrong – let alone, cause it. Yet, humankind needs monsters in other to condole their own sins. And as they say, when they can’t find one, they’ll invent it. Even nowadays there’s more than a few names for those fabricated freaks. But back in the day, it was called homosexuality.
A crude depiction of the unfair mistreatment the gay community was put under for, once again, the sake of existing, the play manages to incorporate several powerful and transcendent themes. However, the recount does not achieve to put all the pieces together when it comes to its delivery. Though featuring an enticing, easy-flowing dialogue apart from an interesting psychological introspection into its protagonist, the structure seems to lack a few components to make it function properly – with the ending in need of a more compelling, conclusive resolution that allows the tale to complete its cycle.
At the same time, even though the relationship between Britten and David Hemmings (his protege) is covered from the very beginning, one can’t help but thinking there’s too many crucial parts that have only been hinted – thus, preventing us from fully connecting with the conflicting drama that acts as the driving force for the entire account. At the same time, the narration tries too hard from its inception to make clear that there was never anything sexual between them both. And though it’s laudable to preserve Britten’s reputation, it becomes problematic if that is not revealed until the very last minutes. The show has every opportunity to mirror the same effects as Cabaret – proving the audience how easy it is to become what they most deplore. If the whole tale gave us the impression that Britten was a potential predator, only to unveil during the finale that, actually, his desires were the absolute opposite, the work would have gained more profundity by making a statement: how quickly we jump into conclusions and pointing fingers, especially regarding unaccepted (at least, by then) groups.
Nonetheless, the productions counts on some excellent components – those coming, one one side, from its well-executed set design (credit to Laura Harling) and highly suggestive lighting (by Vittorio Verta). Yet, the greatest praise goes to it exceptional cast, with all the performances exuding both flair and strikingly tangible chemistry. Among them, Gary Tushaw earns the biggest mention through his elegant portrayal of Britten, crafting an exquisite, intricate rendition of this apparently assertive man – whose charismatic (and sometimes dominant) confidence masquerades a sea of troublesome fragility. In addition, Liam Watson also makes a memorable appearance in the other main role of Hemmings, playing his part with charm and presence – building a stalwart, almost unbreakable tandem onstage supported by Tushaw’s fatherly-guiding interpretation.
A story of yearning, sympathy and, above all, love in very different forms and meanings, Turning The Screw harmonizes both its strife and message through a competent outline, but still requires a few extra notes to let its full potential chant and enchant. A longer, more profound look into Britten’s repressed motives and clashes (and, especially, a more encompassing view into his platonic affair) are the missing chords in this unfinished symphony that, in any case, has already revealed part of its textural richness. Just as the maestro, in some manner, used to aim for with his music, it must draw out the grace of pain, disappointment and never-satisfied romance. That’s what will boost both its tenacity and freedom.
All pictures credit to Polly Hancock.
Turning The Screw plays at London’s King’s Head Theatre until 10 March. Tickets are available on the following link.