Tim Ashley 

The Cunning Little Vixen

Royal Opera House, London
  
  


The Royal Opera's revival of Janacek's glorious anthropo-morphic fantasy The Cunning Little Vixen marks the Covent Garden debut of Dawn Upshaw, an event some might consider a trifle overdue. An adventurous artist, and always a risk-taker, the American soprano's choice of material is predictably brave. Those who primarily think of her as an idiosyncratic if elegant recitalist should prepare themselves for something rather different.

The eponymous Vixen - whose tragicomic life and brutal death, defending her cubs, teaches a disillusioned gamekeeper about nature and the mess humanity can inflict on it - is one of the trickiest in the repertoire, requiring tremendous physicality as well as great vocal beauty. Though Upshaw occasionally lacks the requisite mischievousness and sometimes underplays the scenes that hint at the Vixen's predatory nature, there's no question that she rises superbly to the challenge.

Her voice, with its uncanny ability to convey innocence and experience in equal measure, darts through the music like a flash of silver, with tremendous rapture and a certain malicious glee. She proves a telling actress, gawkily beautiful on stage, touching when victimised, then celebrating her freedom by dancing a wild Charleston, before yielding with palpable eroticism to Joyce DiDonato's wonderfully randy Fox.

Yet the opera is just as much about the gamekeeper as the animal he obsessively pursues, and Gerald Finley turns in an equally remarkable performance, growing sadder and wiser, his voice becoming heavy with emotion as the evening progresses.

Bill Bryden's production, meanwhile, first seen in 1990, occasionally errs on the side of cuteness. There are too many sweet, fluffy animals at times and not quite enough of the inherent danger of Janacek's universe. John Eliot Gardiner conducts it all with great restraint, often opting for clarity of texture where some may prefer a lush orchestral sound.

· Until March 5. Box office: 020-7304 4000. A version of this review appeared in later editions of Saturday's paper.

 

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