Benjamin Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream premièred in 1960 so was unlikely to have been influenced by the Summer of Love, which occurred later in the decade. Nevertheless, director Martin Duncan stages the opera in a version of the future as it might have been imagined at the height of Flower Power.
Rather than a lush or threatening forest, the opera is set against a sterile, artificial background. Plastic globes hang overhead and sheets of corrugated plastic rather than trees fill the stage. It certainly makes for a futuristic setting; the entrance of Oberon (James Laing) and Tytania (Daisy Brown) emerging from behind rising Perspex sheets resembles them being ‘beamed up’ in the manner of Star Trek.
Yet the atmosphere remains distinctly 1960s. The lovers are dressed in psychedelic or hippie garments and the metallic, militaristic uniforms of Oberon and Tytania bring to mind the kinky clothing of the Barbarella comic/film that was popular in the 1960s. The clothes also, when caught by spotlights, transform the wearer into a mobile mirrorball.
Wearing identical blonde wigs and bright white clothing, the young fairies are not symbols of freedom but resemble the ultimate in conformity—John Wyndham’s Midwich Cuckoos. The piping voices and disconcerting costumes of the children playing the sprites, many from Opera North’s youth ensembles, is a vital part of creating the eerie otherworldly atmosphere.
Against such a sterile background, Puck (Daniel Abelson) is less an anarchist and more representative of untamed nature. Unusually for an opera, Abelson speaks (well growls) his lines rather than singing. His athletic, animalistic Puck is literally Oberon’s lapdog, racing around on all fours and enjoying having his tummy tickled.
In adapting Shakespeare’s play, Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears take the attitude ‘if it isn’t broke don’t fix it’ and trim (dropping the court politics which open the play) rather than add to the text. Britten’s score is, however, delicate; which suits the druggy 1960s vibe and works well in the romantic scenes but is too slow to build up the momentum needed for comedy.
The humour in the production comes, therefore, from the cast. Siân Griffiths is a surprisingly kinky Hermia and Peter Kirk and James Newby, as respectively Lysander and Demetrius, satirise opera’s grand romantic reputation by belting out passionate declarations of love while accidently dropping their trousers or in their underwear. It feels like director Martin Duncan notices the lack of humour and devotes pretty much the whole of the third act to getting some laughs with scenes that are visually as much as verbally funny.
Opera North’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream is visually striking and a joy to hear. However, considering it is adapted from a famous comedy, it takes a surprisingly long time for jokes to make an appearance.