Yvonne!

I love Yvonne Kenny. Call me easily wooed if you like but the woman should have roses strewn at her feet. Oh for a bouquet and balcony from which to throw it. The Merry Widow was tonight and Ms Yvonne Kenny was an absolute star. I hardly have words for it. I've seen two excellent operas here already, full of very accomplished singers, but Yvonne takes things to a whole new level: if you'd no idea at all who she was, you'd still be able to tell in an instant that she's the one with a huge career behind her. What a woman. Far and away the best voice I've heard on this trip so far: it had its hiccups but they were nothing. And no wonder she's had the career she has: you'd think she was in her own living room, she's so at home on stage. She acts, she sings and she's, well, a diva, in the best and original sense of the word: the kind of woman who caused the word to be applied to opera singers. I fully admit that I may be going a little overboard here, but that's the effect this sort of performance has: I don't want to make any pronouncements on Yvonne Kenny generally, or on Yvonne Kenny recorded, but Yvonne Kenny on stage tonight as Hanna Glawari was glorious. It was partly her voice, partly her stage presence, and yes, partly her fame which did it for me- and what a combination. If this was all I had seen in all my time here, I would be more than content. As much as I adored the other operas, this was the first one which left me buzzing as we left the theatre, the way Xerxes in New York and Kathleen Battle in Auckland did. And I can say with certainty that that buzz was absolutely and utterly down to the fabulous Yvonne.

Certainty because, to be honest, if there hadn't been such a star singing Hanna, it might not have been a particularly good Merry Widow. My major complaint is the libretto. It's an English translation, which in itself doesn't bother me: I think operetta often works better in the language of the audience, especially for dialogue. However this translation was just shocking. Unsingable words, straw-clutching rhymes and plain stupidity abounded: I could only pity the poor singers forced to make sense of it, and (almost) forgive their rather frequent mangled phrases, full of swallowed words and inappropriate emphasis. Part of it, yes, was probably insufficient education about singing opera in English, which I gather is a bit of a problem worldwise; but the librettist (Jeremy Sams) has to take a sizeable portion of the blame as well. Yvonne, though, soared above all the libretto issues: she's worked a lot with Chandos' Opera in English recordings and it shows: her diction was perfect and really she did more justice to the text than possibly it deserved.

And I'm afraid the supporting cast was not exactly stunning either. True, they were in the shadow of Madame, but even so. Lisa Russell certainly looked the part of the eighteen year old Valencienne, but voice wise she just wasn't quite there for me. I think the fact of singing in English may have been part of the problem but I also just didn't like her voice. Jeffrey Black as Danilo was the closest to matching Yvonne; Juan Jackson though was a weak Camille (and in his white tuxedo looked like somebody from a cruise ship). On the other hand, though, Lisa McHugh made another brief appearance, as Olga, and was once again very good. And Gary Down as the non-singing attendant Njegus was fabulous and hilarious. He's an actor, rather than a singer: and sadly a few of tonight's principals were singers rather than actors. They did their best, though, and given the rather flat dialogue (although it did have moments of excellence) the standard of acting wasn't too too bad. Camille and Valencienne were both pretty hopeless but John Bolton Wood as Baron Zeta was great, and Yvonne was beautiful.

Finally a mention of the sets and costumes which were gorgeous. The set was rather simple, but it worked wonderfully: a staircase formed by a big stylised silver and black fan whose tassel formed a sort of ottoman (if you know the story, you know the fan's rather important) and a giant pearl necklace hung over the black backdrop. And there was a giant cigarette case from which Hanna Glawari made her entrance. It's difficult to explain- I'll try and find a picture- but let's just say it was quite an entrance for our prima donna, who was applauded rapturously the moment she appeared (and at great length after 'Vilia', deservedly so). As for the dresses, well, I was green with envy. The women at the first act party had gorgeous frocks; the 'rustic' party in the second act had them all in pinks and yellows and green, then back into a second round of frocks for Act 3. And Yvonne's costumes were perfect. A widow, of course, can't dress like a débutante: and she ought to be wearing black. So in Act One she has a black dress: but its sparkly, and it's topped off with a fuschia bow and matching opera gloves. Act Two she's adorable in 'national' costume. And for the final act, where she finally gets her man, she's in fuchsia and black again: but this time it's the accessories which are black, while she radiates in purple glory. She looked stunning. Oh, and she's adorable when she dances. (There was some slightly silly folk dancing.)

That shall do for tonight. Yvonne Kenny is fabulous. No standing ovation, no bouquets, no fans plummeting from the balconies in ecstasy, but nevertheless, I thought the woman was brilliant. It seems I have slightly more of her in my CD collection than I thought, so when I get home I'll have to have a look through the piles. But whether or not I become a fully-fledged fan, she was still absolutely perfect tonight. As I said: what a woman.