The transfer of The English National Opera (ENO) from London to Manchester has not been a smooth process. The decision to move was imposed upon the company by Arts Council England under the then-government’s instruction that more arts funding should be spent outside the capital. This wasn’t popular with the arts elite in London or opera companies operating in the Manchester area. Mancunians were not asked, but it is possible they might have preferred a functioning railway service.
The hesitancy of the ENO to comply led to an initially tense relationship with the city which was earmarked for their new home. Greater Manchester Mayor Andy Burnham’s response to the ENO’s reluctance was to advise them to come willingly or not at all.
The ENO were nudged towards Manchester as it is currently the largest city in Europe without its own resident opera company. Yet somehow, the city has survived, making the most of a strong relationship with Leeds-based Opera North and the annual visits from Ellen Kent’s companies. Ironically, Opera North started out in 1977 as English National Opera North—an offshoot of the ENO—before becoming independent and changing to its current name in 1981. One can understand them being miffed that their previous parent company is pushing in on territory they have worked hard to shape.
You can’t blame the ENO for being unwilling to move—the nearest Waitrose supermarkets to Manchester are in Altrincham and Cheadle. The horror, the horror. The only good thing that can be said about Manchester is that at least it is not in Yorkshire. Still, as Londoners travel only by helicopter, at least they won’t have to endure Manchester’s third-world railway service.
The ENO’s compliance still feels half-hearted; they will continue to own and perform at their current home, the London Coliseum (quite how this qualifies as them being ‘a resident opera company’ for Manchester is hard to tell). I’ll go out on a limb and guess the split-site arrangement won’t work in the long term; sooner or later the cost of maintaining a London base while performing in Manchester will come into question.
This may, of course, turn out to be a storm in a teacup. The transfer of part of the BBC’s national operations to Salford Quays in 2006 generated threats of suicide pacts and self-immolation from staff, none of which materialised, and we finally got a bus service to The Lowry (ten years after it opened) as a side-benefit.
I know little about the ENO, or indeed about opera, but have formed the impression singers prefer to sing in the language in which the opera was written. Which makes sense, as such a practice improves their employability around the world—prospects of getting a job at Teatro alla Scala are unlikely to be advanced by a CV showing experience of singing only in English. Also, translated operas suffer because the librettist who usually works with the composer isn't alive anymore to offer an input. This isn’t so apparent with surtitles, as one expects them to be awkwardly phrased but this stands out when sung.
The ENO, however, takes an almost jingoistic approach, believing that singing in English enhances the emotional connection between performers and audiences; so, their operas are sung in English with the sung text projected above the stage. You can understand their point—opera is a daunting genre, so anything that might persuade reluctant audiences to attend is worth a try.
However, I am not convinced dogmatically requiring sung English productions is the best way to coax sceptics. Even with operas written in English (except for the comic works of Gilbert and Sullivan), one tends to rely on the surtitles as, while the vocals sound magnificent, the words can be elongated and twisted to the point where they are unclear.
There is also the worrying possibility productions by the ENO might become the go-to night out for the Nigel Farage appreciation society. It seems a strange thing about which to be dogmatic. The words in an opera tend to be functional rather than poetic. It was a major disappointment to hear, for the first time, Ride of the Valkyries in context in Die Walküre and realise, while the assembled voices provide the stirring war whoops of the Walküre, the words are a flat list of instructions for transporting fallen warriors to Valhalla.
As a means of easing newcomers into opera, I prefer the approach taken by Opera North, whose programmes are stuffed with summaries of the plot, background to the opera and helpful hints so that there is no danger of being overwhelmed by the new experience.
The partnership between the ENO and the city region is officially launched at The Holden Gallery in Manchester School of Art, which has only recently reopened after a major two-year refurbishment of the historic Grosvenor building. The Holden Gallery is lovely, two high-ceiling rooms and a corridor are decorated with vivid photographs of, and costumes from, past ENO productions.
It is an upmarket event full of familiar faces whose names sometimes fail to come to mind. Arriving at the venue, attendees are required to leave flat caps and whippets in the cloakroom. Regional delicacies like tripe and black pudding are absent from the snacks, so we are denied the chance to find out whether, like (allegedly) Peter Mandelson, members of the ENO mistake chip shop mushy peas for avocado dip guacamole. There is, however, an addictive Manchester Tart.
I wander around spreading mischief, assuring ENO members the best way to make an impact with the arts elite in Manchester is to belt out an aria in the open air asylum formerly known as Piccadilly Gardens or the shanty town in St Peter’s Square.
Two short films are shown. If the promotions office at the ENO has any sense, they will make the most of a charming video featuring Bizet’s Carmen, sung in regional landmarks—Salford Lad’s Club, Victoria Baths etc. A collection of interviews with extremely broad-minded Mancunians on the subject of opera is eye-opening and reflects well on the region. Opera being compared to a reality drama on steroids, not something which is on the bucket list but will give it a go and something to try as long as it isn’t in London.
There is a series of short, live performances. Gabriella Cassidy’s extract from La bohème is definitely a performance with Cassidy, glass in hand, winking at the audience and strutting in front of the stage. It is so seductive, when she leaves, half the audience tries to follow.
Carol Ann Duffy reads a sonnet she has composed to commemorate the arrival of the ENO in Manchester merging past, present and future and music and words into arias. It also serves to demonstrate the clumsy point I made earlier about the relative unimportance of words in opera, as Nardus Williams sings the sonnet in a new setting by Tom W Green. The gravity and subdued passion of Williams’s performance is so powerful, really the words she is singing do not matter.
The ENO does a good job of pretending they really always wanted to come to Manchester. A series of speeches are endlessly positive, with Jenny Mollica, Chief Executive Officer of ENO and London Coliseum, comparing the move to the start of a new act. Ironically, therefore, it falls to a politician to come close to the truth. Greater Manchester Mayor Andy Burnham compares the relationship between the ENO and the region to a classic romcom, which begins with an antagonistic situation but ends with everyone engaging in hugs and kisses. It’s a great speech, funny, self-deprecating and short.
Now they are in Manchester, the ENO is determined to hit the ground running. Projects are scheduled to begin as early as next year and not be limited to what might be perceived as ‘opera’. Manchester Classical is a collaboration between the ENO’s Chorus and the Hallé Orchestra in June 2025, and Britten’s Albert Herring arrives at The Lowry in October. Perfect Pitch, in collaboration with Walk the Plank, community groups and local football teams, will celebrate opera and community football.
In February 2026, there is a staged concert of Cosi Fan Tutti at The Bridgwater Hall. Then things get really radical and exciting with the UK première of Angel’s Bone, drawing from classical to cabaret and punk music, and Einstein on the Beach, both at Aviva Studios.
The English National Opera has played a blinder; their behaviour at the start of this saga made them look like effete metropolitan softies scared of the rough people in t’north. However, their imaginative programme throws the onus onto regional audiences, daring them to support such a challenging series. This is not so much a call to arms as a call to bums on seats.
During a performance of The Accountants at Aviva Studios, the stage was stripped back, revealing not just its width but also its depth. A colleague, who knows a thing or two about opera, remarked if the ENO devised productions which could exploit such a vast space, the results would amazing.
That would, of course, be the perfect end of the saga—The ENO not simply producing quality shows in Manchester but shows which could only be produced in Manchester. First, however, the region has to show practical support for the ENO by attending the shows.