Manon

SK made his first stage appearance in 1987 at RNCM, as “a definitely corrupt” Lescaut in Manon. Opera magazine remarked on it being an “astonishingly mature” performance, and that he “used his warm and clear baritone with notable musicianship”.

This was his only operatic achievement (apart from playing Donald in Billy Budd, 1985) prior to his professional debut as Count Almaviva in Hamburg later the same year.

 

Title

Manon

Composer

Jules Massenet

Librettist

Meilhac and Gille after Prévost’s novel

Venue and Dates

The Opera Theatre, Royal Northern College of Music

26, 29, 31 March, 4 April 1987

Conductor

David Lloyd-Jones

Director

Richard Jones

Performers

Manon Lescaut : Sally Harrison

Le Chevalier des Grieux : Colin McKerracher

Lescaut : Simon Keenlyside

Le Comte des Grieux : Mark Glanville

Guillot de Morfontaine : Nigel Roberts

De Bretigny : John Davies

Pousette : Katherine Witney

Javotte : Helen Williams

Rosette : Louise Crane

La servante : Diana McNeillis

L’hôtelier : Peter Evans

Deux gardes : Andrew Bennett, Graham Webster

Un sergeant : Duncan MacKenzie

Le portier du séminaire : Richard Robinson

Rosalinde : Lesley Ross

“Les Élégantes” : Sara Fulgoni, Carolyn Hargreaves, Julie Mellor, Alison Rodger, Michelle Walton, Sally Ann Wilks

Chorus and Orchestra of the RNCM

Production

Designer : Richard Hudson

Lighting : David Cunningham



What the critics say

Michael Kennedy, The Daily telegraph, 27 March 1987

It can only be beneficial, economically and artistically, for opera in the north of England that Opera North and the Royal Northern College of Music are co-operating on joint productions. One of these, Massenet's "Manon", had its first performance in the College Opera Theatre last night, with'" the college president, the Duchess of Kent, in the audience.

Today we recognise that there is more to Massenet than surface charm. His unobtrusive craftsmanship can be admired from the way in which he achieves natural effects by a remarkable use and choice of artifice. Yet the Massenet style, a blend of elegant detachment and sophisticated sentiment, is not easy to achieve in performance. Idle these days, and from students even under so experienced a conductor as David Lloyd-Jones, to expect a Beechamesque grace and precision.

That so much of the essence of the piece came over is a tribute, to an excellent cast headed by Sally Harrison as Manon. Physically ideal for the part, vocally she is strongest in conveying the pleasure-loving, soubrette Manon (no innocent, even at the start in this production, with a tart's laugh which would have got her thrown out of the convent first day). Her singing of the gavotte, for example, came more naturally than her "adieu, Ma Brave Petite Table." As yet she lacks colour throughout her range, but her success in the role is undeniable.

Colin McKerracher sings Des Grieux most agreeably and gained confidence with each act. In the more declamatory passages he tends to sing as Italian tenors sing Massenet, but his open-throated style was effective in "Ah, Fuyez Douce Image" and both he and Miss Harrison found their best form in some really touching quiet singing in the final scene.

The most assured singing came from baritone Simon Keenlyside as Lescaut, with Mark Glanville's Comte des Grieux not far behind. John Davies’s de Bretigny was a strongly etched performance, and the chorus sang with verve and élan. Orchestrally, too, there was little to complain about except an occasional lack of polish.

The opera, sung in French, was produced by Richard Jones, who seems to have carried over his view of the 18th century from Stravinsky's "Rakes Progress" - the chorus in the first act deported themselves like excapees [sic] from Bedlam. But Mr Jones makes a very positive statement about the work, wrong-headed in my view in its over-stylisation but nonetheless executed with conviction and assurance.

Richard Hudson's set makes fine use of the deep stage and was seen at its best (as was the production as a whole) in the gaming-house scene. My taste is not for this kind of stark realism in design, but if it has to be done, it is extremely well done here and nothing looks shoddy or skimped.

John Robert-Blunn, Manchester Evening News, 27 March 1987

For the Royal Northern College of Music to be able to stage Massenet's near-masterpiece Manon sings volumes for the college's vocal resources, as last night's first performance of a new production (jointly with Opera North) did so grandly. This five-act work of sustained romanticism and much marvellous music thrilled a large audience which included the college president, the Duchess of Kent, the chief constable, and many other opera-loving worthies.

Manon is not a. work which any right-minded Anglo-Saxon would wish to hear too often, especially when sung in French accents Edward Heath might approve. Not are the simple, stark sets by Richard Hudson (following and improving on Hockney) sights to stir the libido, although one must admire their effectiveness and also the skillfully contrived, contrasting costumes.

The producer, Richard Jones, has a cool, detached approach, too, which works against the romanticism by playing down the naughtiness [of] the anti-heroine.

Sally Harrison, in this demanding title role, was remarkably good. She has a strong soprano voice, good looks, admirable acting ability, and a vivacious presence. She still lacks depth and colour, but these will surely come because she must be one of the best operatic sopranos I have heard and seen at the college for many years. Colin KcKerracher, as Le Chevalier Des Gieux [sic], is an effective tenor who is dependable except when forced to raise the roof. Simon Keenlyside was a good Lescaut and Nigel Roberts and John Davies deserve praise for their realisation of Guillot and De Bretigny respectively. The three wordly [sic] women, well sung by Katharine Witney, Helen Williams and Louise Crane were also good.

David Lloyd-Jones conducted the generally secure orchestra with a forcefulness which often bordered on panache.

Gerald Larner, The Guardian, 28 March 1987

Stagecraft to the Manon born.

As the curtain rises on the Royal Northern College of Music's new production of Manon in Manchester, the stage stretches farther and farther back as you see more and more of it, to a point well beyond belief. The effect, achieved through a brilliant use of stage geometry by the designer Richard Hudson is breathtaking. It is like the background to a surrealist painting, a long perspective, empty except for one or two architectural monuments and a few figures - as in a Magritte, say, or more likely a Delvaux, except that these figures wear clothes.

Richard Jones sustains the surrealist atmosphere almost throughout his production of Massenet's Opera. He excludes furniture and avoids bustle in the inn scene at the beginning, bunching his chorus together as a composite figure rather than littering the stage with individuals, drawing a screen in front of characters who have to be there but whose visible presence would spoil the picture.

For the most part he does such things very skilfully, although there are occasions - as when a singer has to scramble on to a bench to get the perspective right, or when a toy carriage crosses the front of the stage rather than the back, where it would have been in scale - when he seems to have miscalculated.

To what extent this could [sic] light actually illuminates Manon is a question which might still be difficult to answer when the production is eventually adopted by Opera North who are paying the larger part of the cost. Certainly, the last scene on the road to La Havre, for which end the long perspective was presumably designed, is highly emotive in itself.

But it is a production which requires a developed stagecraft from the singers, who have  to create characters out of nothing but period costume, and project emotion into empty space or even, at one point, a space above which a stuff[ed] rhinoceros and a couple of human specimens hang suspended.

Not surprisingly, the student cast at the Royal Northern College of Music, for all its detailed coaching and its admirable discipline, cannot offer that kind of professional maturity. They have enough trouble singing it after all, and in French, too.

Sally Harrison, who is an attractive Manon in many ways, has surely been pushed into a role like this too soon. It takes her nearly two acts to recover enough nerve to get her pitch under control, and the top notes which so liberally adorn the part have to be snatched at as they go past.

H is not until the last scene, where Massenet so effectively parts his lovers in soft sentiment rather than high passion, that one becomes aware of the potential energy of the voice and the intelligent use she can make of it.

Colin McKerracher, as des Grieux, having been under much strain for some time, also sings well at this point and with unexpected; vocal control. But the more consistent performances come from the lower voices - from Simon Kennlyside[sic] as an impressively tough but not bullying Lescaut, and John Davies as a faceless Bretigny.

The chorus is splendid, and the orchestra so good that one can forget they are students and have confidence in them from an early stage. It is questionable whether David. Lloyd-Jones, who is conducting here before he takes the production to Opera North, has as much confidence: he does seem to press a deliberately careful hand on the score, which keeps things together but at the expense of some gracefulness.

Julian Rushton, The Independent, 28 March 1987

The Royal Northern College of Music has fully earned its high reputation for singing in general and opera in particular. The new production of Massenet's Manon is in association with Opera North, whose musical director, David Lloyd-Jones, conducts the student forces; otherwise the programme only credits the Leed's company with the wigs. But this trans-Pennine co-operation is presumably responsible for granting the students the valuable training of work with an expert production team led by Richard Jones. The students also gained experience in using the original French, in which nobody was immaculate though the diction was generally good.

Richard Hudson's set consists of massive walls perfect for Act 3 (Cours-La-Reine and St Sulpic) and sufficiently adaptable to work in the other scenes. An oppressive sense of enclosure is balanced by use of the deep stage, by stylised movement of the choral mass, and by a remarkable array of costumes. The production, while not entirely without gimmicks like the innocent Manons who taunt Des Grieux in the gambling scene, is traditional in evoking directly the period of the action. It perhaps intentionally refers to contemporary French paintings; while the Venetian Longhi might have suggested the rhinoceros which, with two half-dressed skeletons, hung ominously over the Cours La Reine. The gambling den was a stunning confection, both grotesque and sinister, dominated by brilliant red dresses which temporarily obliterated the set.

Massenet was a theatrical craftsman whose talents are put to perfect use in this opera. Less full-blooded than Puccini's Manon Lescaut its mosaic style of short-breathed numbers conveys more truly the twilight world of illicit love and money in which social classes mix and the weakest goes to the wall. A short-breathed musical style makes manageable demands on the principals and also provides ample work for the chorus, which was here outstandingly vivacious in song and action.

Manon is an ideal choice for student forces. Yet some of the minor roles made a muted impact, not helped by make-up which may have been intended to dehumanise them. Mark Glanville was a stiffly paternal count, and Simon Keenlyside, singing almost too beautifully, was effective in the ungrateful role of Lescaut. If he allows his voice to open out Colin McKerracher could make an affecting Des Grieux. Apart from a tendency to stoop, Sally Harrison was a perfect doll-like figure with a bright, agile voice and plenty in reserve; she brought unexpected conviction to Manon's maturation from novice to demi-mondaine, and her conflict between love of Des Grieux and wealth, to become in every way the heroine of the evening.