O*the bags are nothing more than Christmassy Engelbert Humperdincks Hansel and Joseph. Not so much in content – crushing poverty, scary woods, evil childhood – as the venerable association from his previous world on December 23, 1893. Long before it became a fixture in the festival program, the composer was gifted with early versions of the score. his bride for Christmas. Twice
We can only hope she’ll be as entertained as the multitude of children brought to the Royal Opera House’s latest “family-friendly” revival. Anthony McDonald’s 2018 productionare sung in the English version. Dressed in plastic wellies, mini bow ties and everything in between — only the inflatable seat was de rigueur — they provided a constant stream of dumb surprises and sensible questions. OMS was What kind of menace lurks in the woods? Why does that deer have a gun?
For the adults in the audience, McDonald’s staging makes the bigger picture more clear. The whole inside becomes a huge picture machine. The alpine painting shows the brief glimpses of the family life in the early years: first, then more and more happy, empty cautions and quarrels. An example is forged Grimm’s Fairy Tales appears throughout the times.
It’s a gorgeous, hit-and-miss dance as the boys sleep, involving an array of other fairytale characters (Snow White, Cinderella and her princess Rapunzel, Little Red Hood and the Big Bad Wolf) – but it’s rare, and the moment of magic is unknown. And finally, there isn’t much room for grown-up charm when the protagonists are withdrawn from this. Kate LindseyHansel signs and gurneys, panto-ready with every gesture, while Heidi StoberJufer has the energy of a kid TV presenter up his sleeve. The sudden calmness of their evening is felt by the place, disturbed by its tempo.
Charles Wilson‘s Witch’ has a riling end line (one young listener immediately burst into tears) but otherwise sounds uncomfortable. The smaller roles are more prominent, the children’s chorus at the end of the scene is beautifully mixed. In the UK debut in the pit of thumb, conductor Giedre lekytė It makes room for some exquisite solo lines and Humperdinck infuses the lush score with enough momentum to prevent stagnation. But perhaps none of these, as in Wilson’s saga the witch calls out with a roar of fury, or the blinding of one child, still fixed on the stage, is drawn to the exit.