ENO, London Coliseum, 15 February 2013

Why has it taken so long for Charpentier’s only obvious operatic masterpiece to reach the professional stage in London? With a positive embarrassment of baroque performances these days, it almost looks as if the composer still suffers the same exigencies of fortune as he did in his own lifetime. Thankfully David McVicar’s production, in stunning sets and lighting, goes a very long to making up for this dereliction.

The opening two acts feel very familiar territory for David McVicar. We are in a rather over-comfortable aristocratic environment which talks much of war but seems keener on dressing for dinner than actually fighting. Brindley Sherratt’s De Gaulle-like Creon is matched by the American swagger of Roderick Williams’ Orontes.  That both come to a sticky end is inevitable from the start, though the opening acts are full of entertainment which might seem out of place taken by themselves, but are a complement to the desolation of the end. As such, the gilded aircraft and Lindy-hop dancing are entirely apt. This is a society running rapidly towards its own destruction.

In the midst of all the glib entertainment is Sarah Connolly’s intensely focussed Medea. An outsider from the start, appallingly treated by all around her, her vengeance is all the more comprehensible. At first she seems simply to be a cheated woman, lied to and abandoned, but we quickly realise the complex politics which surround her are a Gordian knot which needs a knife to unravel it. There are subtle hints of incest from the royal family which Medea plays on when she invokes the spirits.

The knife itself becomes an idée fixe in the final acts. There is little blood in evidence but the blade flashes at us with ominous intent. Sarah Connolly has a wonderful ability to stand absolutely still and yet command attention. While the world falls to pieces in act four she is static, almost unaware of the impact of her power. Most challenging of all is the conclusion. Where one might expect some sort of catharsis, and given the date of the work, some religious resolution, there is nothing. Medea literally rises above it all. She has destroyed those she loved, leaving Jason alone alive in agony, and she is drawn up to the stars. No punishment, no divine retribution. Death is the end and she has conquered.

The mirror floor of Bunny Christie’s vast palace set allows Paule Constable to create a series of stunning visual effects, ranging from the most subtle misty greys to golden watery reflections which spin out into the auditorium.

The Large cast is drawn from strength and the chorus are kept to the edges, allowing the many smaller parts to make individual impact. There are no weaknesses on stage and it is a tribute to ENO that they can cast so well. This is arguably the finest thing Sarah Connolly has done – one tends to think so far – and she is surrounded by splendid voices from Jeffrey Francis’ lyrical Jason, the richly nasty Creon of Brindley Sherratt and Katherine Manley’s vapid but ultimately tragic Creusa.

While I have to admit I could not get on with Castor and Pollox this Charpentier was as good as it gets.  BH