Imeneo Review – Handel in a Mischievous Mood Handled with Intelligence and Care | Opera

AA New York opera featuring a pair of young lovers is inevitably compared to Così fan tutte. But in the case of Handel’s mid-career novel, Eminio, A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a better reference point. There may be unexpected Mozartian depths in this intimate comedy of duty and desire, but there is none of Cosi’s cynicism or cruelty in a piece whose games are played strictly at the opera’s own expense.

As the vogue for Italian opera in the 1740s was ended by the new fashion for English oratorio, Emineo became Handel in a mischievous mood at the end of the term. This operetta (the composer did not honor it with the weight of a full opera) sets up conventions only to overthrow them. Da capo arias? sometimes. Crazy scene? Not real. Happy ending? Absolutely not. It’s delightful, often theatrical stuff, and director Guido Martin Brandeis and the Cambridge Handel Opera Company have captured all its knowing, self-referential charm in this delightful staging.

A row of Ionic columns surrounding the theater are the only reference to the setting of Athenian drama. Otherwise, it’s an 18th-century fantasy of topiary and trellis (a tree dripping with wisteria that winks playfully at Bridgerton), where necklines are lower and the stakes are lower.

The pirate captors, who have seized the city’s entire supply of marriageable young virgins, are dispatched by Imeneo (Timothy Nelson) in a few recitations and the opening five minutes. The only remaining conflict is whether Rosmine (Ellie Neate) will choose gratitude and marry her savior, or loyalty and marry her lover Terento (Bethany Horak-Hallett). Handel weaves it deliciously with the help of a subplot involving Rosmine’s younger sister Clumerie (Lisa David) and her father Argenio (Trevor Elliott Bowes), lulling us into familiar romantic-comedy rhythms before confusing them in an ending that separates and unites all the “wrong” people.

With musical director Julian Perkins leading from the ukulele – on stage with his band – Martin Brandis invites the musicians into the action. The characters let loose (and the double bass comments in turn), when they’re not busy breaking the fourth wall with the help of Trui Malten’s articulate lighting design. A chair, two gilded picture frames and a pair of hats are the only props – used with endless invention, wit and care by a cast that balances Handel’s delicate mixture of artifice and sincerity beautifully.

Perkins breathes this music, even though his band wasn’t quite with him on opening night: the violins tremble, the interjections timid at times. However, don’t be intimidated by the wonderful cast: Neate’s vibrant Rosmene, whose power grows during the massive final act; Dafydd is captivating and sings sweetly as the determined Clomiri. Horak-Hallett’s brilliant mezzo was evenly matched by the handsome baritone of his rival Nelson, leaving Bowes to turn the patriarch into an irrepressible comic turn. Handel’s operatic afterthought harmonizes well with the main event.