The programme book for the enterprising Saffron Opera Group’s Fliegender Holländer includes a piece by chorus member Caroline Galwey, imagining the private thoughts of Senta and exploring themes of longing, duty and mortality. It’s a welcome idea, adding a dimension to our understanding of this complex character, though in this concert – as it turned out – Mari Wyn Williams needed little help in conveying Senta’s passions.
A concert performance can throw up different insights into an opera from one in the theatre, and here, denied his supernatural stage trappings, the Dutchman of Simon Thorpe was necessarily a satellite in Senta’s orbit, albeit a rather dapper one in flamboyant shirt and red silk waistcoat. If his initial monologue was a little short on existential angst, Thorpe’s later contributions were convincingly passionate and he sang with a consistently warm tone, especially at the top of his register, even if he was more score-bound than his colleagues. Andrew Greenan made an avuncular Daland, bringing his scenes alive by frequently stepping away from his music stand, though his diction was not always clear. Yvonne Howard was a kindly Mary, gently and patiently cajoling Senta, aware of her own powerlessness. Andrew Henley, singing and yawning in the balcony, made a delightfully amicable Steersman, acting amusingly even when most of the audience’s attention was directed elsewhere. Particularly impressive was Charne Rochford as Erik: a role that can all too easily seem like a stroppy teenager – and rarely sought by any singer – became here a persuasively noble depiction of a wronged hero. The chorus sang with gusto, always audible even though situated at the back of the hall, and embodying their roles as sailors and coquettes with enthusiasm, the men stomping along drunkenly in their party scene. But this was Senta’s show, and Mari Wyn Williams progressed quickly from a gentle, innig expressivity to Brünnhilde- like peroration; the opening of her Ballad, as she eyeballed the audience, was particularly captivating.
The Orchestra of Saffron Opera Group, bravely venturing forth upon the storm-tossed sea of Wagner’s score, made a powerful account of the Overture, though some themes could have been more sharply characterised. Exposed passages in later scenes, less familiar to amateur players, were not always delivered with confidence, but a decent account was given thanks to the clear if unorthodox beat of conductor Michael Thorne, even if certain moments lacked a sense of urgency, and at times it seemed that ensemble was being prioritised over line. There were some fine individual performances, notably from Alex Cromwell on first trumpet and Chris Crosby as principal oboe.
One can only be impressed with Saffron Opera Group’s ambition. This performance was a fine achievement for an amateur ensemble, even if it lacked a certain polish; doubtless the players and the chorus were inspired by the engaging, persuasive performances of the principal singers. In the Act II confrontation between Senta and Erik the drama became something rather transcendent, and for a moment this reviewer thought he was in the opera house once again.