Theodora

by George Frideric Handel

seen at Covent Garden on 14 February 2022

Harry Bicket conducts Katie Mitchell's production of Theodora, a piece composed by Handel as an oratorio rather than an opea, and not performed at Covent Garden since its less than enthusiastically received premiere in 1750. 

The plot is inspired by the fourth century story of the martyr Theodora, here sung by soprano Julia Bullock, one of many who refused the obligation to sacrifice to the Roman emperor as a deity, or to the Roman pantheon in general, and who thus risked execution. In this instance the implacable governor Valens (baritone Gyula Orendt) recognises that consignment to a brothel would be a worse punishment than death, since it would both compromise Theodora's chastity and frustrate her eagerness for a martyr's crown.

Didymus (countertenor Jakub Jósef Orliński), a soldier in love with Theodora, manages to help her escape by an ingenious exchange of clothing, but in the process is himself captured and sentenced to death, prompting Theodora to surrender herself hoping to save him; Valens not unreasonably points out that those who break the law cannot dictate the terms of their own punishment, and maintains his condemnation of both of them.

The moral complexities of the situation are further examined through Irene (mezzo soprano Joyce DiDonato), a friend of Theodora who often acts as spokeswoman of the Christian community, and Septimus (tenor Ed Lyon), a sympathetic soldier friend of Didymus who nevertheless puts duty before the ties of personal loyalty or private conviction.

The story unfolds through a series of recitatives, da capo arias, choruses and occasional duets. Harry Bicket maintinas a firm control of the score while the cast is uniformly excellent, supremely confident in the vocal techniques needed to sing Handel arias with conviction as characters as well as skill as singers. The whole evening was a joy to listen to.

Katie Mitchell's often controversial interrogations of classic stories of female oppression begin by questioning the ways in which these stories emphasise women reacting to bad things happening to them. She prefers to provide some agency to the female protagonists, and equally does not shy away from acknowledging the personal cost in emotional and psychological terms of the damage being perpetrated on the victim. Thus in her reading of this story, which is updated from late Roman imperial times to be set in a modern 'Roman' embassy, Theodora and Irene are among many lowly kitchen staff in the Embassy, covertly using the equipment to make a bomb. The brothel (the 'vile place' of the text) becomes a private pole-dancing room attached to a boudoir for the delectation of Valens and his underlings, the seediness of the venue quietly emphasised while the musical action plays out in the adjoining state room. There is a startling moment when Didymus, having disguised himself as Theodora, is taught the basic techniques of pole dancing by one of the other dancers. No doubt Jakub Jósef Orliński's skill at break dancing helped him here!

There was considerable advance 'publicity' about Mitchell's production offered by Covent Garden: an email to those who had bought tickets contined the following trigger warning

As we approach the final stages of the rehearsal process, we feel we should let you know that we are now recommending the production to audiences over the age of 16, owing to its explicit presentation of scenes of sexual violence, harassment and exploitation and its evocation of themes of terrorism

Later, a press release announced the appointment of an intimacy co-ordinator to ensure that all the actors and singers were comfortable with the levels of explicitness required by the director. The House has perhaps felt threatened by the intensity of the critical response to some of Mitchell's earlier productions (particularly Lucia di Lammermore), though on the other hand her work on George Benjamin's operas Written on Skini and Lessons in Love and Violence seemed to me to be entirely appropriate and deeply illuminating. It is possible that Covent Garden was deliberately fomenting interest to pre-empt criticism for this new production.

In the case of Theodora there is no doubt that uncomfortable issues concerning the conflict between personal adherence to faith and the overbearing dictates of civic authority lie not very far underneath so-called inspiring tales of martyrdom. In most of the older Christian stories the persecuted do not engage in acts of aggression, and the more responsible Christian leaders generally were dismayed by those who actively sought martyrdom even as they extolled this ultimate expression of faith under pressure. Mitchell has shifted the weight of the story by imagining Theodora and Irene as terrorists in the making, since it means that the complicit Christians (at least some of the kitchen staff are complicit) are doing more than just standing on their principles by refusing to worship false gods. The denouement she imagines for the opera in particular is at most variance with the original tale of martyrdom, with the authority figures rather than the Christians brought low.

The method for introducing these subversions is classic Mitchell. Chloe Lamford has designed a set of five rooms and two passageways, though we see at most three rooms at any one time, and usually only one or two. The set slides slowly to left or right as required, with black walls at the front to widen or narow the view, so that we either focus entirely on the singing and action of the singers, or else see dumbshow actions in adjoining spaces which broaden our perspective on what is really happening. Sometimes, it must be admitted, this technique is a distraction, but often it works extremely well. There is an element of ritual about the measured pace, intensified in moments of high drama when everything proceeds in carefully choreographed slow motion. Curiously, both the making of the bomb by Theodroa and Irene, and its subsequent defusing by a nervous but determined Septimus, echo these ritualistic proceedings, and it seems all of a piece with the moving proto-baptism of Didymus at the close of the first act as he prepares to rescure Theodora.

I found the visual interpretation very often enhanced the music, but could not escape the feeling that the original story had been subverted by the conclusion imposed on it. We are often frightened by martyrs if their cause opposes our way of life; most of us are now hardly inspired by martyrs from within the Christian tradition. On either count the story of a woman embracing martyrdom is now problematic. Whether the image of Theodora and Didymus grimly leaving the chaotic scene of their apparent escape from death in an industral freezer as the final curtain falls is more palatable it is hard to say.