REVIEW: Anna Lapwood’s Christmas


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A festive dopamine hit to the eardrums, pulling out all the stops this Christmas


Anna Lapwood has such golden retriever energy. As popular in the social media arena as she is in real life, she returns to her home venue, the majestic Royal Albert Hall, for a Christmas extravaganza with all its festive trappings.

Accompanied by the Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra and conducted by Karen Ní Bhroin, proceedings were kicked off with a wonderful Christmas medley including Good King Wenceslas, Silent Night and Deck the Halls. The full house erupted into rapturous applause as Anna bounded out to her organ, fizzing with anticipation. It was clear nostalgia would feature heavily in the production, with the night dominated by film scores including Anna’s firm favourites from Interstellar, The Da Vinci Code and How to Train Your Dragon. Now and again, a tender piece would emerge, full of personality and novelty, including a sweet performance by solo violinist Esther Abrami performing We’re Walking In the Air from The Snowman and a piece titled Transmission in honour of her violinist grandmother.

Anna’s skills as a performer are only eclipsed by her passion for engaging the audience. She constantly interacts throughout, through personal anecdotes, praising clothing choices, dedicating songs to people, arranging for a former student to get up and conduct a few pieces of music, and having the conductor both figuratively and literally pass the (purple) conductor’s baton to her. It’s all very heartwarming, and you cannot fail to smile at the genuine connections Anna can make with thousands of strangers sat a million miles away from her organ seat. Speaking of millions, during The Greatest Showman’s A Million Dreams, Anna had even sneakily set it up for a German girl to propose to her boyfriend at a pivotal moment when all the audience were waving their phone torches for maximum visual effect- it was legitimately romantic.

However, herein lies my only complaint. I love film soundtracks as much as the next ner,d but I felt there were simply too many. There were too many similarly intense pieces, whose overpowering crescendos ironically seemed to be diluting the power of the instrument’s impact. Despite the lushness of the Royal Philharmonic filling the hall, the searing scores started to blend into one harmonious cacophony. It felt like a finale every five minutes and my brain started to switch off. The organ is, of course, always going to be grandiose and full of pomp, and Anna’s skills are second to none. Her ability to connect with her audiences of all ages, particularly young wome,n is refreshing and joyous to watch, but there just needed to be more festive pieces. I enjoyed John Williams’ E.T, Home Alone and of course the sensationally emotive Duel of the Fates from Star Wars. Anna is clearly trading on reminiscence and familiarity, but these are pieces that can be played any time of the year. They have such rousing climaxes it felt a missed opportunity to interweave more gentle pieces, making use of solo performers to truly accentuate Anna’s skills in the actual finale moment(s). I also thought it was a missed opportunity not to have the choir sing Carol of the Bells in its original Ukrainian (Shchedryk- meaning “Generous”).

Overall, it is, of course, a stirring, heartwarming nostalgia bonanza in which Anna’s infectious personality and technical skills mesh into a rollicking crowd pleaser of a show. She is endlessly on tour, always gaining popularity wherever she goes. If you want a pure dopamine hit to your eardrums, do not miss her.

REVIEW: Royal Academy of Music ‘s Carmen at Susie Sainsbury Theatre


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

Christopher White nailed the night with an exquisite performance of the orchestra


It was a little unusual to watch Carmen at the Royal Academy of Music, where most of my operatic and musical experiences have tended toward the avant-garde, contemporary, or rarely performed repertoire. Carmen feels almost too “safe” as a box-office choice, instead of something bolder and more unconventional – just like the title character. However, that very unexpectedness is what drove me to witness this Royal Academy Opera production.

The cast showcased some of the most incredible students at the Academy. Charlotte Clapperton’s Carmen was in a way both conventional and unconventional. She’s the Carmen everyone expects to see: bold, self-possessed and with a faint vibe of gen Z feminism. The casting of Woogyeom Kim as an Asian Don José can be an apt choice as he dutifully reflected a “good boy” that inevitably turned into an intimidating man by the end. Astonishingly just in their first and second year, both showcased their vocal abilities as promising, while baritone Harrison Robb gave an uncompromising performance as Escamillo. His deep, soulful voice lingered on your mind even after the show.

 Production wise, director Harry Fehr gives the production a modern touch, but I felt uncertain about some of the creative choices. While Yannis Thavoris’s minimalist design tackled the practical needs of Carmen‘s scene changes, I was perplexed by the intention of Matt Powell’s projections. They seemed to indicate multiple “what-ifs”, but these what-ifs appeared as unclear. For some projection clips, they may lead the pair to an alternative happy ending instead of its current tragic end if the pair could have been more open and franker, but some others just indicated Carmen stabbing Don José rather than vise versa. The disco movement (Victoria Newlyn) didn’t fit the music of Lillas Pastia’s tavern, and I was also not convinced by the decision of turning the final corrida into a social-media inspired press night as overtly cheeky.

What really awed me the night, far beyond my expectation, was the performance of the Royal Academy Sinfonia. Unified, precise and delicate, conductor Christopher White lavished on Bizet’s romantic antiquity with some brightness and lightness of chamber music. This worked especially well with Madeleine Perring’s Micaëla when she was singing her famous aria in the latest Act. To my surprise, she nearly stole the entire show, not as the innocent “foil” set contrast to Carmen, but as the girl with determination and resilience.  Perring’s voice was mellow, gentle but firm – her voice watered your eyes with genuine emotion.

REVIEW: Opera North: La Bohème


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A universally resonant revival of a timeless classic


Puccini’s ‘La Bohème’ – one of the most well-known and frequently performed works in the entire operatic repertoire – is the latest production by Opera North to grace the Lowry, returning after the popularity of previous runs. Presented as a series of vignettes centred on a group of young, struggling Bohemians in Paris, this 4-act opera is an emotional rollercoaster from the first to the last.

Phyllida Lloyd’s acclaimed take on La Bohème breathes an invigorating life into a story originally set in the 1830s, a time that anyone attending an opera today will have little to no context for. Accordingly, Lloyd updates the setting to something more in line with what a modern audience might typically associate with the word “Bohemian” – the 1960s.

Motorcycles, leather jackets, fingerless glove, Parisian cafes, pop art adorning the walls of paint-splattered art-studios – in terms of the costuming and set-design, it’s all there. From the opening curtain of the first act, the audience already has a strong sense of the types of characters and scenes that will tug on their heartstrings for the next 2 hours.  Updating the setting in this way is a crucial step in helping the audience to connect with the characters, which is top priority for an opera with the intense emotional drive of La Bohème.

The first act sets up the lives of struggling poet Rodolfo, and his artist friends as they try to make rent and keep warm in the cold Parisian winter. The performances were immediately inviting and packed with humour, every subtle action and exchanged look acting as a window into the nature of the relationships between this long-time group of friends.

 After his friends leave, Rodolfo unexpectedly encounters the female lead Mimi, leading into the famous aria ‘Che gelida manina’ (Your tiny hand is frozen) – in which he introduces himself – followed by Mimì’s ‘Mi chiamano Mimì’ (They call me Mimì).

The vocal performances for these arias were sublime – Anthony Ciaramitaro delivered a robust tenor as Rodolfo, captivating the audience with his stage presence. The subsequent breathtaking performance by Olivia Boen as Mimì was one of the high points of the show for me. Hearing the stirring delivery of emotional swells (“But when springtime comes… the first rays of sunshine are mine”) carried by the torrential force of the incredible orchestra, I caught myself realising (being new to opera) – “Oh… so this is why people love it.”

The second act – set in a lively cafe in a town square – I particularly noted for the energy present on stage at all times. Large crowds of shoppers, children, diners and our main characters flow through and around each other seamlessly, with hundreds of small interactions happening in the background simultaneously to the main performances, giving the whole scene an authenticity and liveliness that’s easy to get absorbed into.

Here we were also introduced to Musetta, a strong, independent leopard-print-coat-wearing diva, whose performance by Elin Pritchard brings an extra comically flamboyant punch to the production.

In this way, the first two acts play much like a rom-com, which makes the tragedy of the final two all the more devastating. The individual performances of the talented cast all come together to deliver a heart-wrenching finale, which is bound to give even the most stoic audience member a lump in their throat.

La Boheme isoften recommended to newcomers to opera for the accessibility and universality of its libretto and music and, frankly, I couldn’t think of a better way to dip your toes into this incredible art form than Opera North’s unforgettable production of this classic.

REVIEW: La Bohème


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

An opera about artists – and a production that fails to take artistic risks


First performed in 1896, La bohème is one of the most enduring operas ever – it is one of the most performed titles, and has spawned multiple adaptations, most famously the musicals Moulin Rouge! and Rent.

Thus, Scottish Opera’s latest offering is another in a long line of many. It is, unfortunately, just that and nothing more; a perfectly adequate production that does what you expect and never truly wows you or disappoints you in any way.

Giacomo Puccini’s La bohème centres on the lives and romances of a group of poor, artistic friends, namely people who live a Bohemian lifestyle. This production makes one of its few interesting choices by opening in modern-day Paris, filled with tourists running about and taking selfies, before transitioning to the original setting of the same locale but in the 19th century, directly drawing on the timeless nature of the story.

In fact, the ability of the production to recreate the atmosphere of Paris over a century ago is one of its few clear-cut strengths. The set design again parallels the current day with the past with its backdrop a postcard of the scenery, while the lighting is a constant moody blue that makes you feel the cold and the dark that the characters live in.

It is a tough world for the characters as they struggle with both material needs and emotional turmoil. Romantic jealousy and the lack of firewood exist side-by-side. The way this is painted on the characters brings up an interesting dynamic as they are not necessarily sympathetic characters but reside in sympathetic circumstances, but they still lack a certain complexity; they lack an adequate level of internality, and it means all the drama stemming from their relationships feel hollow. The emotional core of the piece suffers from this very same issue, and so when you are expected to react to it, you feel the manipulation of the creator’s heavy hand. This unpleasantness more than the unpleasant nature of the characters is what fails to endear them to you.

This is the fault of the source material and not the production itself. However, the production does not do itself any favours in its attempts, or lack of, to elevate this source material. Despite the intriguing opening, it does not do anything further with it, a microcosm of the inability to transcend beyond Puccini’s original vision. This goes for the performances too. Much like the rest of the production, they are competent and sometimes verging on something extra, but they never quite reach that next level.

That is not to say you will go away disappointed – but you also do not go away with a whole new appreciation for the artform. With the amount of showings of La bohème throughout history and still produced nowadays too, it feels like a missed opportunity to put on something that does not dive in with both feet and give it a real go.

IN CONVERSATION WITH: Natasha Page

We sat down with Natasha Page who makes her debut with English Touring Opera as Adina in a new production of Donizetti’s ‘The Elixir of Love’, which opens at Hackney Empire on 27 September before touring across the country, tickets are available here.


Natasha, congratulations on your ETO debut! How does it feel to be stepping  into the role of Adina for the very first time with the company? 

Thank you! I’m absolutely thrilled to be making my ETO debut as Adina. Working with  this company has been a long-standing goal of mine – I’ve seen friends and colleagues  perform with ETO and have always been so impressed by the standard of both the  performers and the productions. It’s a real honour to now be part of that myself. ETO  has such a forward-thinking ethos, especially in making exceptional artistic experiences accessible to all, which is something I feel very strongly about. I’m really excited to bring this role to life with them. 

Adina is such a strong and playful character. What have you enjoyed most about  discovering and embodying her? 

I see The Elixir of Love as a coming-of-age story for Adina. In our version, it’s set in a  rundown seaside town, with Adina and Nemorino on the brink of adulthood. Adina  dreams of escape – she sees endless possibilities beyond the town and is ready to  move on. But when two strangers arrive, everything shifts. They act as catalysts for change, and Adina starts to question what she really wants. Maybe, just maybe, there’s  something – or someone – worth staying for. It’s a very relatable journey. We’ve all been  through that messy, awkward phase of growing up, thinking we have all the answers,  only to realise there’s still so much to learn. 

Donizetti’s Elixir of Love is often described as sparkling and joyful – do you have a  favourite moment in the opera that always makes you smile when performing it? 

There’s so much brilliant music in this opera – well done, Donizetti! One moment that  always makes me smile is the duet with Dulcamara at the start of Act 2. It’s very cheeky,  with incredibly catchy music. That said, I might be slightly biased, but Adina’s big aria at  the end of Act 2 is a real favourite. The cavatina is such a gift to sing—it’s a moment of  true sincerity from her. 

Winning the 2023 Maureen Lehane Vocal Award was such a big achievement.  How has that milestone shaped your journey leading into this debut? 

Winning the 2023 Maureen Lehane Vocal Award gave me a huge boost of confidence  and opened several doors. Through connections from the competition, I performed my  first Fiordiligi in Così fan tutte at the Celebrate Voice Festival – a big milestone.  Fiordiligi is a demanding role that requires serious vocal stamina, much like Adina.  Taking on that challenge helped build the vocal and mental resilience I’m now drawing  on in this debut. 

Touring opera brings music to audiences across the country who might not  otherwise experience it. What excites you most about taking this show on the road with ETO?

I’m excited to bring this opera to audiences across the country, and to explore cities I’ve  never visited before. We’re performing the opera in a vibrant English translation, which really brings out the  humour and heart of the story. It’s a rom-com at its core, and I think people will really  connect with it. I’m also looking forward to taking part in the schools workshops – it’s so important for young people to experience opera early on. They’re the audiences of  the future. 

What do you hope audiences will take away from Elixir of Love? 

At the heart of this opera is the question: what is love? 

Is it true devotion? Playful independence? Can it be bought, owned – or bottled in a  magic potion? The Elixir of Love has fun with all of this. I hope audiences leave smiling,  thinking about what love means to them, and with hearts a little warmer than when they  arrived.

REVIEW: Becoming Tosca


Rating: 3 out of 5.

“A stripped-back reimagining of Puccini’s Tosca exploring faith, power and art.”

Becoming Tosca by Prologue Opera – whose mission is to explore the backstories of characters from well-known classics – is presented as part of the 2025 Grimeborn Festival at the Arcola Theatre. The production combines new music by Frank Moon with an abridged version of Puccini’s original score, interspersed with theatrical dialogue, all translated and written in English. A stripped-back production, relocated to an unspecified South American setting in the late 20th century, it sets out to tackle themes of Catholicism, political oppression, and artistic expression. However, this setting is not rendered in the design or culturally grounded in any way, beyond being mentioned briefly in the text. 

Anna Sideris as opera singer Tosca, Anthony Flaum as renegade artist Cavaradossi and Brendan Collins as bitter church reject turned corrupt Secretariat of State Intelligence Scarpia command the score with vocal prowess and mostly clear enunciation of the libretto, necessarily supported by surtitles. The prologue song “I Remember Sundays” beautifully weaves their backstories around the church, though the prologue itself does feel exposition-heavy, each character taking a turn to explain who they are before Act I begins.

Sideris and Flaum’s meet-cute-turned-revolutionary-romance is admirably sung but undermined by the spoken dialogue, which reduces their connection to superficial traits – looks, aesthetics, petty jealousy – rather than a shared passion for the transformative power of art. As a result, their relationship feels unconvincing as a love that could later inspire betrayal of state and murder. With the opportunity to give Tosca more, I would have liked to see greater complexity and autonomy, acknowledging some of the representational issues of the original. 

Collins plays a cartoon villain as Scarpia, sinister and an unambivalent creep who we’re more than happy to see stabbed. Harry Gentry as Angelotti, Cavaradossi’s young, hopeful apprentice, does an admirable job at delivering a rousing speech on revolution and class struggle, though the speech sits awkwardly in the context of an “unspecified” South America. Performed in London to a mostly older, white, affluent audience familiar with the operatic canon, the moment underlines how the production’s political themes felt underserved and blunted by its generic setting.

Puccini’s music remains luminous, and pianist Berrak Dyer (also Musical Director) and clarinettist Boyan Ivanov fill the space with a dramatically pared-down arrangement. Yet the dialogue scenes felt like missed opportunities to flesh out the world – often basic, lacking drive or characterisation. The direction was similarly static, with little design or dynamism in the staging.


While there were issues of pace, length, and storytelling, the strength of the production lay in the singing and music, which the audience responded to warmly, culminating in a partial standing ovation. Prologue Opera’s mission to make opera accessible is admirable, and while the scale of ambition here may have overridden execution, Becoming Tosca remains an interesting exercise in how opera might be reimagined and made relevant for contemporary audiences.

REVIEW: The Marriage of Figaro by Opera Kipling 


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A fun but slightly confused imagining of Mozart’s famous opera


Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro is taking to the stage in Opera Kipling’s new, ninety-minute production. All the action in this opera occurs on the day of servants Susannah and Figaro’s wedding as the Count (Philip Kamanovitch) attempts to seduce Susannah with a plan to reinstate an old law that would allow him to have her. At the same time, the old housekeeper Marcellina (Deborah Holborn) is demanding that Figaro repays his overdue loan, or otherwise marry her! Chaos ensues as Figaro (Christian Loizou), Susannah (Rebecca Milford), the Countess (Eleanor Oldfield) and the page boy Cherubino (Alexandra Dinwiddie) band together to thwart the Count and Marcellina’s plans.

All the cast embodied their characters with brilliant energy and humour. Stand out members of the cast included Oldfield as the Countess, whose soprano voice was powerful even when lying on her back for almost the entirety of one of her arias! Milford embodied the cheeky and playful Susannah perfectly. Robert Tilson was wonderful with his sassy interpretation of Don Curzio: Tilson used his whole body (hips and all!) as a vehicle for his comedy, embracing the silliness of this comedy opera to the max; he was a joy to watch. Patrick Osbourne was brilliant, playing multiple roles with humour and versatility. The accompaniment for this opera was carried by a single pianist, Giannis Giannopoulos, who played fluidly and beautifully across the entire 90 minute production. Thanks to Giannopoulos, the full orchestra that is customary for opera was not at all missed. 

As an opera novice and a Marriage of Figaro virgin, a condensed, ninety-minute version of this typically three-hour opera was welcome. However, the condensing of this opera gave way to a loss of depth. We don’t get to see many scenes of Susannah and Figaro alone together, which is a detriment to the believability of their romance. At the midpoint of the production, I almost began to feel for the opera’s antagonist, The Count – he was being cheated on and deceived by characters that had so little stage time it was difficult to sympathise with them! These issues were exacerbated by a technical issue with the surtitles, which were sometimes partially or completely obscured by the lighting and smoke machine. This made it very hard to follow certain parts of the opera, a real let down for the cast. Despite the plot being somewhat lost or confused at times, Opera Kipling did embrace the light-heartedness of this opera which made it a very joyful watch. Schilperoort’s direction realised the silliness, the sass and the fun innate in this comedy, capturing the humour and the characters’ descent into chaos. 

The set is minimalistic in style. In centre-stage is an IKEA bed, around which all the action revolves.  The bed was put to effective use in all the scenes, successfully integrating into a range of different settings and working very well as a comedic device. I appreciated the very tongue-in-cheek use of the IKEA instructions as the contract! There were also two poles from which sheets are hung to signify a change in setting. In the forest scenes, the mattress is replaced with very artfully crafted grassy bed which was a lovely touch. However, a more dynamic and full set might have provided better context cues to understand the plot at large. The Opera Kipling company promise sass and silliness in their productions, taking inspiration from W.H. Auden’s quote: “No good Opera plot can be sensible, for people do not sing when they are feeling sensible”. On this, they certainly deliver; this production is full of humour and heart. However, sadly technical problems and plot confusion undermine the talent of the cast. 

REVIEW: That Bastard, Puccini!


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

With high stakes and truly operatic drama, That Bastard, Puccini! makes its delightful world premiere at Park Theatre this July


In the times of yore, a great rivalry emerged in Italy. Ruggero Leoncavallo and Giacomo Puccini, both friends and foe, have set their eyes on creating a great opera of the enchanting love story La Boheme. Both claim to have the right to the tale; Leoncavallo believes that Puccini stole the idea from him, while Puccini states that it was his to begin with, the suspicious timing a mere coincidence. This culminates in a desperate rush to the finish, a competition to see who can finish their opera first and with the most widespread acclaim. With his wife Berthe holding pretty much everything together, the three have it out over the approximate two hours of this play, a piece littered with laughs, high drama, and music.  

Playwright James Inverne creates a scintillating spectacle of this largely unknown piece of history. When La Boheme comes up in contemporary day-to-day life, usually one name is recalled: Puccini. The notion that someone else may have the true claim to fame of this opera recalls something akin to cognitive dissonance. Inverne unearths the chaos that developed behind the scenes with wit and fast-paced vivacity. 

With only three actors onstage (Lisa-Anne Wood as Berthe, Sebastien Torkia as Puccini, and Alasdair Buchan as Leoncavallo), the piece takes on an ambitious number of other characters, with actors openly debating who should pretend to be who, a pleasing sprinkle of meta-theatre into the mix. The performances are highlighted by Torkia’s command of the stage, Buchan’s bedraggled panic, and Wood’s chameleon-like multiplicity. Berthe in particular offers quite a challenge: with the most number of side-characters to play and some opera thrown in to perform, Wood amazes in her ability to embody whatever the circumstances require. While Berthe’s character seems to exist mostly in service of the storyline of her male counterparts, Wood makes Berthe stand out as an individual. 

The spirit of meta is compounded nicely with intentional anachronisms and an overarching self-awareness, packaging this play neatly into a parcel of joyful silliness. This production knows that it is not performing a pensive tragicomedy that will spark national debate on the topic of ownership and storytelling. It’s fun and silly and tender and offers audiences a chance to disconnect and just have a giggle for an evening. Inverne seems to have set out to make a play that audience members will truly have a laugh watching, something that we all could do with a bit more of.

That Bastard, Puccini! plays at the Park Theatre until 9th August. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: The Magic Flute


Rating: 3 out of 5.

An incredibly talented cast let down by technical mishaps and confused staging


Mozart’s The Magic Flute is the story of Prince Tamino, who falls in love with Pamina, daughter of The Queen of the Night. Upon discovering she has been taken by the evil high priest Sarastro, he vows to rescue her. With the bird-catcher Papageno in tow, Tamino undergoes a number of trials aided by a magical flute and guided by three spirits. Opera Greenwich presents their interpretation of this singspiel opera, with a live orchestra, sung in German and subtitled in English.

Usually, this opera begins in medias res, with Tamino saved from a serpent. Opera Greenwich decided to give context during the overture, supposedly to elucidate the plot. Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect: without singing, narration, or subtitles to clarify what was happening, we are shown The Queen of the Night falling in love, embracing a girl we suppose is Pamina, who is then taken away by a man later revealed as Sarastro. This mystifying beginning set the tone for the rest of the production, much of which I spent trying to puzzle out exactly what occurred during the overture!

The best thing about this production is the cast. The Three Ladies (Antonida Kocharova, Megan Artemova Thomas, Lizzie Hawes) were wonderful, comedic, and conniving. Ben Watkins takes on the comedy of the loveable Papageno with ease. His powerful baritone arias were sublime, and at times he entered the audience whilst singing, creating an immersive effect. Grigore Riciu is slightly staid as Tamino but outstanding in voice. Kennedy Blair Miller’s singing as Pamina was sweet and powerful, her acting emotive. Both sang wonderfully, but it was hard to buy into their romance due to a lack of chemistry. Ash Howard is spectacular as Monostatos, the slave unrequitedly in love with Pamina. He stands out with excellent stage presence and a powerful mezzo voice. Sarastro (David Banbury) has a powerful bass voice; while his spoken dialogues felt a little wooden, his character completely came alive in song. Meliza Metzger is formidable as the intimidating Queen of the Night, conveying anger and grief with great emotion. The Spirits and ensemble all sang marvellously, and the orchestra was also a joy to listen to.

Unfortunately, this cast was let down by some production choices. Some costumes were well thought-out: the Three Ladies’ black, feathery dresses were stunning, and the Spirits’ shiny skin-coloured bodysuits with silvery white material produced a ghostly, otherworldly effect. Papageno’s colourful feathered chest reflected the comedy of his character. Regrettably, Pamina is dressed in khaki trousers and a blue t-shirt. Since she is praised as extremely beautiful, it would make sense to dress her as such. Tamino’s outfit – t-shirt and trousers – was equally forgettable. It felt like thought went into the other costumes but not the leads’.

Set design was inconsistent in quality. The small stage used three large sheets for projections. With few props, the space felt empty. This was juxtaposed with an overwhelm of projected images that distracted from performances – particularly during the Queen of the Night’s famous aria, where Metzger’s singing was overshadowed by projections of her face screaming. The sheets worked best during shadow puppetry, like when a tree was created out of bodies and hands.

The final blow was technical difficulties. Subtitles failed in Act Two and later lagged or were incorrect. This made the plot hard to follow – a real shame, though not the cast’s fault.

Overall, this production boasts some amazing talents and despite its production flaws, I would recommend it if you’d like to listen to some incredible operatic powerhouses for a very fair price.

REVIEW: Dido and Aeneas


Rating: 3 out of 5.

“Guildhall students show star quality in this confusing production.”


Henry Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas is a gem of the Baroque musical cannon. A short opera based on an ancient star-crossed love meddled with by supernatural beings, it’s easy to follow compared to the three act romps opera is known for. Its score is an unfrilly affair and flows with an introspective early music style. Purcell originally created the opera for the students of Josias Priest’s school for girls, so it seems only fitting that the Guildhall School of Music would show the talents of their students in a new production directed by Oliver Platt. 

The opera’s tale of betrayed love begins with Dido, dressed in a glittery outfit with a glass of white wine in hand, dancing her sorrows away to booming drum-and-bass tracks. Just when we think we’re strapping in for a night of Purcell with a Gen-Z twist, Dido suddenly gets kidnapped by a gang of frumpy villagers dressed in bonnets and clogs while waiting on her Uber. The peasants, who look an awful lot like the cast of Les Mis — with faces duly muddied — crown Dido as the queen of their cult and force her to fall in love with Aeneas. He’s also been kidnapped ostensibly, perhaps from a different club, it’s never really explored. 

This new context works in opposition with Nahum Tate’s impassioned libretto. Oliver Platt’s folk horror spin makes motivations unclear, particularly in the work’s bloody end. While the jolly gallumphing of the peasant chorus in their larping rags begins to wear thin, the conniving witches chorus are immensely striking in Alisa Kalyanova’s pagan designs. Sonically the chorus is rich and full, igniting Purcell’s rollicking pastorales with brio. Manon Ogwen Parry’s maniacal take on lady-in-waiting Belinda is a highlight of the evening, wholly convincing as a fanatical ringleader and vocally confident as she hops through the baroque melodies, she never puts a foot wrong. 

Karima El Demerdasch has real vocal power in her Dido. She harnesses her rage into vengeful bellows as she curses her fate, she laments with silken phrasing. Despite some slip-ups in her diction El Demerdasch undoubtedly has a starry quality and a flair for the dramatic. Joshua Saunders approaches Aeneas with a refreshing tenderness however his hushed take occasionally sees him lost in the action — particularly when the villagers get into their rustic antics. James Henshaw’s from the Academy of Ancient Music played alongside Guildhall School of Music players brings out the best of Purcell’s score in the intimate space. If only Oliver Platt’s directing managed to do the same for the opera itself.

Dido and Aeneas shows at Milton Court Theatre until 16th June. Tickets are available here.