Last Updated on December 10, 2025
Baroque Vocal Fireworks at the Garden
3.5 out of 5.0 stars
Handel composed his three-act opera seria Ariodante in 1735. It was his first opera to be performed at the Covent Garden Theatre, the predecessor of the Royal Opera House. But apart from one revival a year later and a more recent lockdown livestream, tonight’s performance of Jetske Mijnssen’s directorial debut for the Royal Opera is the first time the opera has been performed at Covent Garden in front of an audience since those early performances. The Royal Opera has put on a number of Handel operas in the last few years (Alcina, Jephtha, Theodora and Susanna), so it’s probably about time that they staged the composer’s only opera set in the British Isles.
Ariodante’s narrative is taken from Ariosto’s influential 16th-century epic poem Orlando furioso, the source material for three Handel operas, Ariodante, Orlando and Alcina, with the libretto being taken from Antonio Salvini’s y’ Ginevra, Principessa di Scozia. The opera is set in an idealised medieval Scotland and centres on Ariodante, who is betrothed to Ginevra, the King of Scotland’s daughter. Their happiness is threatened by the scheming Duke Polinesso, who desires both power and Ginevra, and by Dalinda, Ginevra’s lady-in-waiting and, in this production, younger sister, whose misguided infatuation with Polinesso makes her an unwitting accomplice in his plot. Polinesso persuades Dalinda to disguise herself as Ginevra and admit him to her chambers, playing out a nocturnal tableau that convinces Ariodante and the court that Ginevra has been unfaithful.
Believing himself betrayed, Ariodante sinks into despair and is reported dead, while Ginevra is repudiated by her father and condemned, giving rise to some of Handel’s darkest music. The truth emerges only when Dalinda, remorseful and endangered by Polinesso’s attempt to silence her, confesses the deception; Ariodante, who has in fact survived, exposes Polinesso, who dies, and Ginevra is cleared and restored. The opera ends with reconciliation and multiple unions, including that of Dalinda with Ariodante’s brother Lurcanio, completing a trajectory from courtly celebration through emotional devastation to a hard-won, morally inflected happy ending.
Richard Jones’ recent Brechtian production (seen in Toronto, Chicago and elsewhere) reimagined the piece on a remote Scottish island in the late 1960s–70s, trading chivalric pageantry for drab community halls, pubs and domestic interiors. Dutch Director Jetske Mijnssen has taken a much safer route with a modern-day setting in a bland post-modern Royal Palace. Designer Etienne Pluss has created a neutral, mostly unadorned set: high walls and ceilings in pale pastels, with mid-century furnishings.
The directorial emphasis is on the emotional drama playing out between the entitled protagonists, the jeunesse dorée of their society. It’s a patriarchal world where women are expected to play second fiddle and have little agency. The surprising melodic twists, rhythmic turns and harmonic crunches of Handel’s writing create a soundworld which soars and sparkles, as well as creating moments of heart-wrenching sadness. The lengthy da capo arias allow for some character development and on-stage business in which we see this aristocratic class behaving poorly towards their servants. But this is not a Marxist interpretation, but one that has more in common with the world of contemporary family TV dramas featuring the wealthy and powerful. Think Succession with semiquavers and Baroque ornamentation.
The challenge with contemporary stagings of opera seria is how to fully engage a modern audience in what can turn into a lengthy chain of solo arias, during which the dramatic impetus stalls. The production starts well. The house band sounds crisp and responsive from the opening notes of the overture under the direction of conductor Stefano Montanari, leading from the front on the fiddle. The stage is inhabited by a charming group of child actors who act out the key plot points of the opera’s narrative, but although there are many musically sublime moments and some comic touches, the production doesn’t catch fire until the final scene. The static nature of the opera’s structure similarly bedevilled Jones’ production. With the only choral number, the final chorus Sa trionfar ognor (Virtue will always triumph), trumpeting the moral of the story, Jetske Mijnssen flexes her feminist credentials by going against the text with the traumatised Ginevra throwing off her wedding veil and refusing to marry Ariodante, as her father, the King, dies in his wheelchair.
If the production doesn’t set the world alight, there are some fine, characterful performances and fabulous singing to keep the audience enthralled. Canadian-Italian mezzo-soprano Emily D’Angelo (Alcina, La Clemenza di Tito) takes on the trouser role of Ariodante. Decked out in a grey suit and with a Beatles fringe, D’Angelo delivers a ravishing Scherza Infida with its plangent bassoon counter-melody and a celebratory Dopo Notte that is as technically dazzling as it is (deliberately) lacking in empathy.
Former Jette Parker Artist, American soprano Jacquelyn Stucker, is terrific as the falsely accused Ginevra. Initially skittish emerges in her lilac nightdress, her vocal tone has power and an interesting and characterful grain, which allows her to deliver the character’s devastating emotional journey. Lighting designer Fabrice Kebour shines a cool, unforgiving light onto the proceedings; we are clearly not meant to like these characters, and it is only when Ginevra attempts suicide (Il mio crudel martoro) that our emotions are raised in the stately, virtuosic and heart-stopping aria framed by descending string couplets. But it’s not all high drama; the two main protagonists’ duet Prendi da questo is gorgeously romantic.
French classical countertenor Christophe Dumaux gives a very physical performance as Polinesso. He plays the character as the epitome of evil. Bearded, amoral and immoral, he delivers an outstanding vocal performance fully embodying the character with a tight, focused vocal sound. Dumaux manages Handel’s serpentine melodic complexities with an aplomb fitting for a swaggering schemer.
Ginevra’s sister Dalinda is sung by Cuban-American soprano Elena Villalón, who has a glistening upper range and power that she shows off in her signature aria, Il primo ardour. She moves her affections rather smoothly from Polinesso to Ariodante’s brother Lurcanio, played by British tenor Ed Lyon as a 1950s era ‘Angry Young Man’ but also capable of a much softer romantic tone as in his love aria Del mio sol vezzosi rai.
Slovak bass Peter Kellner was in robust voice for his role of King of Scotland. He spent a lot of the show collapsed onto the floor, the character torn between his love for Ginevra and the requirements of the state. Welsh tenor Emyr Lloyd Jones produced a powerful, rich sound which matched his presence as the King’s loyal retainer/carer Odoardo.
Conductor Stefano Montanari manages the dramatic ebbs and flows with a rhythmic and dynamic flexibility that goes to the heart of the story. The band is impeccable throughout the long evening, delivering a coherent and exciting musical conversation with the singers.
Go and see this Ariodante if you’re a fan of Baroque opera!
9–21 December 2025
Royal Opera House
Bow Street
London
WC2E 9DD
Looking for something different? Check my review of HMS Pinafore from ENO at the Coliseum.
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