OPERA
'Alceste' at Glyndebourne THE ancient woe of Admetus and his heroic wife was very nearly matched at Glynde- bourne -on Sunday afternoon by the pre- sumably even more ancient horrors of tfie English summer. The theatre was beauti- fully warm; but outside the air was cold and sodden, the lawns were soaked, a fine (or
less rain sent the birds of paradise in fear for their plumage and Apollo-Helios, less relenting than in the old story, hid himself jealously, not even consenting to follow operative precedent and appear as a dens ex tnachina in the interval. her voice it almost seemed as though the office had stifled the human being. It is not a very flexible or a varied voice, never really beautiful in quality of tone; but its firmness and dignity, allied with an admirable stage presence, made her performance telling, if not deeply moving. Richard Lewis was an Admetus who, for once in a way, seemed a worthy object of such a woman's affections. His singing and acting had an impassioned quality which suggested the undo lying week- ness,of a too dependent character yet made him a more than plausible object of affection. Even Admetus has his masterful moments, and in this performance 'Bantus la crainte' sounded like a trumpet-call and almost persuaded us, as it mom niarily persuedes Alcestis, that a brave from w.11 alter the bitter terms laid down by the oracle.
All the cast found French an almost impossible language to sng (might Mine. Laszlo have achieved an easier, tenderer tone in an easier, more familiar language?) but Richard Lewis alone seem d unabashed by this formidable obstacle. His French, it is true, was not flattering to the e ar; but it was perfectly intelligible and carried complete conviction and this is all that the most demanding can ask. Of the smaller parts the High Priest (and later Apellu's self) was sung by Raimundo Torres and Hercules by Thomas Hemsley. The High Priest lacked dignity, and his discomfort seemed to come less from the divine afflatus th: from some humbler, simply vocal maladjustment to ifs part. Hercules, on the other h: nd, was well carried off and contrived to bring dramatic relief that was not simply. comic.
Alceste is not to be judged simply for its music. It is a spectacle as well as a drama; and Carl Ebert's beautifully contrived group- ings against Sir Hugh Cesson's ageless masonry, with the glowing yet subdued colours of Rosemary Vetcoe's costumes, created a general impression wh ch must be counted among one of Glyndebourne's signal triumphs. Under Vittorio Gui not only the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra but the all-important chorus caught the true note of tragic solemnity without falling into that wooden pomposity that is the danger of Gluck's music; and the lighter interludes were graceful without trivielay. Only the problem of the ballet, unsolved in the Glyndebourne Orfeo, again defied solution, and the conventionally archaic 'dipping' movements of the dancers struck a note of archness wholly foreign to the rest of the
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