English National Opera

English National Opera, theatre

  • Scene from Jonathan Miller's production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado, 1997. Museum no. TM10271-1/9

    Scene from Jonathan Miller's production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado, 1997. Museum no. TM10271-1/9

    Scene from Jonathan Miller's production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado
    London Coliseum
    1997
    Black and white photograph
    Museum no. TM10271-1/9

    Ever willing to fly in the face of tradition, in 1986, English National Opera commissioned the iconoclastic director Jonathan Miller for a new production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado. Miller’s  instructions to his choreographer Anthony van Laast, summed up his approach. ‘Go and see all the Marx Brothers films and don’t ask me any logical questions.’ Any satire on Japan was abandoned,  and the show became a 1920s musical comedy, set in a dazzling white hotel with everyone dressed in black and white, and Yum-Yum and her friends in St Trinian’s uniforms. As Ko-Ko, Miller cast  ex-Python, non-singer Eric Idle. Letters of complaint began reaching the company even before the production opened. However, all the complaints in the world could not mask the fact  that ENO had a huge hit on its hands and the production was revived many times over almost two decades. This photograph shows Janis Kelly, Neryn Jones and Fiona Canfield in the 1997 revival.

  • Scene from Sadler’s Wells Opera's production of Offenbach’s La Belle Hélène, 1963

    Scene from Sadler’s Wells Opera's production of Offenbach’s La Belle Hélène, 1963

    Scene from Sadler’s Wells Opera's production of Offenbach’s La Belle Hélène
    Sadler's Wells Theatre, London
    1963
    Colour photograph

    This scene is from Sadler’s Wells Opera's 1963 production of Offenbach’s La Belle Hélène. This was an hilarious satire on the  French Second Empire morals and manners in the guise of the classical myth of Helen of Sparta’s abduction by Paris. Offenbach’s comic operas have never been regularly performed in Britain, being too frivolous for the grand opera houses and too esoteric for the West End. So it was a rare treat in the early 1960s when Sadler’s Wells Opera produced his three best-known works, Orpheus in the Underworld, La Vie Parisienne and La Belle Hélène. Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world, was in the capable shape and voice of Rotherham-born Joyce Blackham. As one  review observed, La Belle Hélène showed rather more of her than the average opera. She was especially delicious performing a Victorian-style striptease after Helen awakes to find Paris in her  bedroom, drifting around the room shedding her clothes, persuading herself in song that this was only a dream, or if not, it was her destiny, so either way it was all right. Everyone had a  good time and one critic found her knee-length netcurtain bloomers 'uncommonly titillating'.

  • Sadler's Wells Opera performing Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld, 1961

    Sadler's Wells Opera performing Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld, 1961

    Sadler's Wells Opera performing Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld
    Sadler's Wells Theatre, London
    1961
    Colour photograph

    One way to criticise politics or society is to send up a well known story and fill it full of references that are equally valid for that story and for contemporary life. In 1858, this was what the composer Offenbach did in Paris, taking the Orpheus legend as the springboard for a series of attacks against the complacency of the middle class in the Second Empire in France. As many of his criticisms can be applied to almost any period or regime, the opera has remained extremely popular. In the Sadler's Wells Opera production, one of the most hilarious scenes was the descent into Hell – in this case via the London Underground in the rush hour. Director Wendy Toye also managed to fit in a sticking lift and a bubble bath and Mercury, messenger of the gods, had jet-propelled sandals. The costumes were reminiscent of 19th century burlesques on classical themes, updated for 1960.

  • Tramp costume from the English National Opera production of Mark-Anthony Turnage’s opera Greek, 1990. Musuem no. S.1097-1995

    Tramp costume from the English National Opera production of Mark-Anthony Turnage’s opera Greek, 1990. Musuem no. S.1097-1995

    Tramp costume from the English National Opera production of Mark-Anthony Turnage’s opera Greek
    1990
    Brown raincoat with attached rubber gloves, plastic tubing, syringes, rope, plastic bin liners, newspaper, and rope netting
    Musuem no. S.1097-1995

    Based on Steven Berkoff’s play, this was the Oedipus myth transferred to 1980s London. It became a scathing parable of the greed, poverty and intolerance of the 1980s. The plague of Sophocles’ original  became the urban decay of Thatcherite Britain. Turnage’s scores were always notable for their eclecticism, and critics spotted influences as diverse as Benjamin Britten, Miles Davis and Charlie  Mingus, Igor Stravinsky, Puccini and Chas & Dave, but they were influences, not plagiarism, and the final effect was uniquely  Turnage. Like the music, the costumes, designed by David Blight, reflected the contemporary world. This extraordinary costume is for one of the down-and-outs. It is basically an ordinary raincoat, onto which are piled layers of torn newspaper, bin-bags, rubber tubing, hypodermic syringes, rubber gloves, rope and other types of litter and urban detritus.

  • Sphinx Costume from the English National Opera production of Mark-Anthony Turnage’s opera Greek, 1990. Museum no. S.1095-1995

    Sphinx Costume from the English National Opera production of Mark-Anthony Turnage’s opera Greek, 1990. Museum no. S.1095-1995

    Sphinx Costume from the English National Opera production of Mark-Anthony Turnage’s opera Greek
    1990
    Fake black leather jacket edged with black feathers and fringing, worn over a tight fitting black "stretch-fabric" bodice and skirt. The costume is decorated with red paint, studs, and chains
    Museum no. S.1095-1995

    Based on Steven Berkoff’s play, this was the Oedipus myth transferred to 1980s London. It became a scathing parable of the greed, poverty and intolerance of the 1980s. The plague of Sophocles’ original  became the urban decay of Thatcherite Britain. Turnage’s scores were always notable for their eclecticism, and critics spotted influences as diverse as Benjamin Britten, Miles Davis and Charlie  Mingus, Igor Stravinsky, Puccini and Chas & Dave, but they were influences, not plagiarism, and the final effect was uniquely Turnage. Like the music, the costumes, designed by David Blight, drew on contemporary influences. This extraordinary punk-inspired costume for one of the bald female Sphinx has overtones of Jean Paul Gaultier and Madonna, biker’s gear, and the band painted with Greek figures links it to the classical origins of the sphinx figure.

  • Scene from Wagner’s opera cycle The Ring of the Nibelungs, 1973

    Scene from Wagner’s opera cycle The Ring of the Nibelungs, 1973

    Scene from Wagner’s opera cycle The Ring of the Nibelungs
    London Coliseum
    1973
    Colour photograph

    This stunning sci-fi setting for Wagner’s opera cycle The Ring of the Nibelungs was designed by Ralph Koltai for Sadler’s Wells Opera. The four opera cycle was produced over several years, but in 1973 it was standing room only when the company performed the complete cycle in English. Koltai’s sets, all gleaming rods and metallic spheres, with costumes incorporating perspex, and Glen Byam Shaw’s production, created a timeless world in which Wagner’s figures moved with unusual humanity. It reflected both the 1960s and the Apollo moon landing, as though Tolkien met Star Wars. The diagonal bridge on which Wotan stands was nicknamed the launching pad, although it did remind one critic of an aluminium pick-a-stick. By 1973, Norman Bailey was already acclaimed for his portrayals of Wagnerian heroes, but his Wotan earned him a place among the greatest interpreters of Wagner in  the 20th century. Yet he sometimes yearned to be a stage actor. ‘Opera is like acting in slow motion. I sometimes long to free myself from the shackles of the music.’