Review: TOSCA, London Coliseum

Back in 2012, I reviewed Nabucco for BroadwayWorld in faraway Chișinău . When The National Opera and Ballet Theatre of the Republic of Moldova was built in the 1950s, the name of the city was more likely to be given as Kishinev and Moldova itself was firmly folded into the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Great art was produced in the USSR, but that building, like so much else in those times, was bleakly brutalist, with no outside nor inside marks of artistic endeavour. The messaging was clear - “Do as you are told”. 

That authoritarian mid-20th century bleakness is reflected in Rosanna Vize’s set for Annilese Miskimmon’s new production of Tosca for the English National Opera, which she intends to be a “Tosca for Today”. That’s a today that sees paramilitary forces on the loose in the USA, individuals refused entry and organisations proscribed in the UK and a sustained assault on cultural production in the mainstream media by far right politicians and their client journalists. Consequently, a traditional Puccini love triangle is doing a lot of heavy lifting at the Coliseum.

Axelle Fanyo proves a vivacious, flirtatious Tosca, quick to turn the anger up to 11 when she suspects a betrayal, but longing for an escape from the surveillance of a paranoid state. Her iconic aria, “Vissi d'arte”, in which she laments how everything she believes in has been taken from her, has seldom been more clearly justified. Unlike some other highlights of the score, it is also sung downstage, which helps in a space as vast as this one. 

As her lover, the painter Cavaradossi, tenor Chaz’men Williams-Ali is strangely passive, seemingly somewhat ambivalent about both his adoring Tosca and the insurgency that he supports, risking his life in harbouring its fugitive leader, Angelotti (Alaric Green). 

It is a curious decision to place the couple some 15 yards apart, separated by a pile of broken musical instruments for their declaration of undying love, "Amaro sol per te", though there has been little chemistry between the two previously, so it makes dramatic sense, even if it diminishes the passion that is Puccini’s calling card.

Christopher Purves has a rather more meaty presence as the villainous Scarpia, the police chief and would-be lover of Tosca. He struts about in uniform, directs his goons to track down the state’s enemies and conducts summary executions. He gets his just deserts of course, but not before setting up the double-crossing that provides the unforgettable finale.
 

Miskimmon’s Dead Man Walking, a year ago at this venue, was a full five star show, pulling no punches, a visceral experience from first note to last. Despite that pedigree, she explains in the programme that 21st century audiences recoil from rape and torture scenes (true) and that they do not need to see such acts to understand their dramatic weight (true, with caveats).

That leads to a PG-rated interpretation of what is often a certificate 18 opera, with little included that you would want shielded from the eyes of the excellent children’s choir. As mentioned above, the singer and the painter talk of a love nest in the forest, but barely stand close together never mind embrace, under the gaze of The Madonna or not. 

Scarpia’s second act opener, "Ha più forte sapore" sounds less like the oily confession of a sadomasochist and more like the pitiful pleading of Russell Brand on the witness stand. We should view this monster with visceral hatred, but he’s so inept in his self-regard and prim in his folding of his trousers for his rape of Tosca that he’s almost comic. 

There’s little blood evident after Cavaradossi’s spell in the dungeon with the secret police, rugby players showing more damage at half-time and Tosca’s flashing blade is almost pantomimed. It really does need a bit more gore.

Roll in an uneasy combination of Soviet-era set and costumes, an English translation of the libretto by Amanda Holden that occasionally, inevitably, jars a little against the music, and irrefutably Italian names and sensibilities, and the production is just too unanchored to succeed.

So a “Tosca for Today”? Perhaps all Toscas are for a today still suffused with the malign influence of the patriarchy, but this one feels a little too distant from its 126 year old roots to capture the opera's shattering power.     

Tosca at the London Coliseum until 11 December

Photo images: Ellie Kurttz