Tales of the Flying Dutchman, a ghost ship cursed to sail the oceans for all eternity, date back to the 18th century, but the literary inspiration for Wagner’s Der Fliegende Holländer came from a retelling by Heinrich Heine, who added two elements the composer was drawn to repeatedly: a mysterious, wandering stranger and a woman whose love redeems him – in this case by sacrificing herself to free his soul from purgatory.
Or so the story goes. Annabel Arden’s new production for Opera North takes a different angle, drawing a parallel between the plight of the perpetually displaced crew and the terror and limbo faced by those who travel on small boats to seek asylum. It’s a thought-provoking idea: the voices of refugees heard before each act are incredibly moving, especially paired with Joanna Parker’s haunting video projections, and both the opening and closing scenes ask poignant questions about what happens when those accustomed to treating the dispossessed as statistics and case numbers are confronted by their humanity.
But ultimately the mismatch between this framework and the actual substance of Wagner’s libretto, which in fact spends relatively little time with the Dutchman’s stateless crew, and far more on his unsettling relationship with Senta, leaves both half realised. Arden’s themes, though worth exploring in their own right, never quite find the sustained resonance they need, which in turn risks obscuring crucial plot points – one almost has the sense of a standalone companion piece beneath the surface, trying to make its way out.
Fortunately these metaphorical ships still have a pair seasoned seafarers to keep them on course: Robert Hayward’s Dutchman is gnarled and malevolent in all the right places, tempering his sinewy bass baritone with just enough lyricism to maintain an air of ambiguity, and Clive Bayley is a flinty, roguish Daland, translated from ship’s captain to mercenary home secretary. Tenor Edgaras Montvidas, meanwhile, brings ringing, Italianate tone to both Erik and the Steersman: the roles are merged into one, a junior minister with a hair-trigger temper.
At the intersection of these men’s machinations and desires, Senta is an enigmatic figure, portrayed here as variously childlike, righteous, sensual and, at times, comically gothic. Embodied with intense physicality by soprano Layla Claire, on opening night the role was sung impeccably from the side of the stage by Mari Wyn Williams: an outstanding company debut which must surely see her swiftly re-invited.
There’s vivid work from the Chorus of Opera North, including a warmly sung Mary from mezzo soprano Molly Barker, and colour and Wagnerian muscle aplenty from the orchestra, conducted by Garry Walker. An uneven Dutchman on stage perhaps – but no such worries in the pit.
• At the Grand theatre, Leeds, until 21 February; then touring
