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U-Carmen Ekhayelitsha (2004)

Director: Mark Dornford-May

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From Time Out London

It sounds heretical but Bizet’s evergreen last opera arguably makes a greater impact the more liberties you take – rather like the heroine. ‘Carmen Jones’ is a smasher, showing up those plodding evenings in the opera house when physique, acting, spoken dialogue or direction can bog down the average operatic cast. And now ‘U-Carmen eKhayelitsha’ transfers the story of the cigarette-girl who can damage your health to a township in modern South Africa, a setting of shanties and shebeens, gangsters and thuggish cops, entertainers who escape to fame and old blood rites that have survived: and, like ENO’s former used car-lot production, it works perfectly.

Director Mark Dornford-May, remembered here for running Broomhill Opera and now a South African resident, has scored a Golden Bear at Berlin (and since made a mark at Sundance with the mystery play-inspired ‘Son of Man’) with his debut, a rather amazing case of beginner’s luck. His style is straightforward; no tricks, no gimmicks. Violence is abrupt, almost casual, as sharp as a beast of prey pouncing for the kill, then moving on. Dust and claustrophobia for the townships, glimpses of vast African distances that surround them; he’s good on atmosphere. Above all, the cast is drawn from a theatre company, Dimpho Di Kopane, he created with music director Charles Hazlewood (the BBC’s exhausting classical populariser – but he can be forgiven) so there’s a real ensemble feeling.

The work’s sung and spoken in Xhosa, complete with fascinating clicks. It goes well with the more exotic, gypsy elements of the score. A shame the smuggling sextet is cut, and there are times when you realise Bizet’s elegantly agile music is inescapably French and non-Gallic voices aren’t flexible enough to cope (though that happens in most opera house productions anyway), but the music is admirably played and sung with minimal alteration. And the cigarette girls’ chorus, with the score’s marvellously sinuous hint of a welcome fag’s curling smoke, has the advantage over future British stage productions, which are rumoured to be banning the depiction of such pleasures.

Carmen’s a factory girl, José is now Jongikhaya, a young policeman, and the torero Escamillo becomes a local boy made good as a singer – if ‘Carmen’ means ‘The Toreador’s Song’ to you, forget it: we hear it only in snatches. Pauline Malefane’s femme fatale is statuesque, her face a serene enigmatic mask in repose, with the wilful independence that leads, as with all good Carmens, to death. The voice is mellow and soft-grained, perhaps lacking a cutting edge and slightly cumbersome in faster passages, but the personality is there. José’s violent past, often overlooked in opera productions, is recalled in flashback, and Andile Tshoni’s Jongikhaya develops from round-faced, well-meaning young cop to desperate outcast to killer, with ringing tenor tones. By telling the story straight and respecting that terrific score (let’s not be snobbish about fantastic tunes, dramatic appropriateness and psychological insight) ‘U-Carmen…’ hits the bull’s eye, ‘Toreador’s’ or not.

Author: Martin Hoyle 2006-04-18 10:33:20

Time Out London Issue 1861: April 19-26 2006