Ambiguity lies at the heart of this chamber opera,
first performed by the English Opera Group in 1954 under the composer
as part of the Venice Biennial, at Teatro la Fenice. Based on Henry
James’ novella - with a libretto by Myfanwy Piper - it is probably the
composer’s greatest operatic achievement, pace ‘Grimes’ and ‘Budd’ and,
as shown in this performance, seems to come closest to an analysis of
Britten’s own emotional psyche: indeed, it confronts his relationship
with the singers and instrumentalists for whom the piece was written.
With only six soloists, and orchestral forces trimmed
to the bone, the essential clarity of the piece is not in doubt. But,
succeeding years have given rise to different attempts to ‘explain’
the text. This is rather like barking up the wrong tree: for example,
the tendency of some critics to rationalise the ‘problem’ of the ghosts
by attributing it to the Governess’ fevered imagination, stemming from
a childish passion for the Guardian, who had employed her.
As Donald Mitchell has argued, this notion cannot be
entertained, if only because the Guardian has no music of his own. In
the Britten setting of the Ghost story, he should have had music if
his role was to have been of importance to the drama; the theory that
he plays some pivotal catalyst for the unfolding events is mistaken.
Nevertheless, the work is constructed in such a way as to leave much
of the action uncertain and vague, almost dream-like, and the comparison
with Debussy’s masterpiece after Maeterlinck, ‘Pelleas et Melisande’
is an instructive one. Are we to take the Opera as a basic conflict
between good and evil, between the Governess, on the one hand, and Peter
Quint and Miss Jessel on the other? The innocence of the children, mere
pawns in this struggle, is eventually corrupted, and can only be restored
by the recognition of the Butler as the ‘Devil’, for which revelation
Miles pays with his life. Or are all the best intentions of the Governess
upon reaching Bly confounded by the seeping evil which infests the Hall,
to the extent that by the end of the Opera she has become as a partner
with Quint? She has progressed from her initial doubts ‘O why did I
come’ to a determination of ‘Oh Miles, I cannot bear to lose you/You
shall be mine, and I shall save you’, startlingly now adapting the music
leitmotif of Quint.
The real struggle ultimately becomes, not the contest
between good and evil, but between contrasting and conflicting aspects
of the power of love. Obviously the influence of ‘Billy Budd’ is apparent,
when John Claggert and Captain Vere vie for the love of the able seaman,
and when neither can win him, then both conspire to Billy’s destruction.
At the end of the day, there is a paradox between the clarity of the
pared down orchestration and singers of ‘Screw’ on the one hand, and
the ambiguity of the plot, the characterisation, and Britten’s own purpose
in setting James’s text on the other. Despite these complexities, the
construction of the opera is an ingenious one, based on a prologue and
sixteen scenes, the statement and variations on a theme, as the ‘Screw’
turns on the lives of the characters involved.
So impressive was the cast for this revival of ‘Turn
of the Screw’ at Covent Garden that one might have thought the composer
was on hand to direct proceedings himself. Today, there is surely no
better interpreter of the complex character of Quint than Ian Bostridge,
spookily convincing as the dead butler, and truly a frightening figure:
it is almost as if Britten had written the role for him, rather than
Pears! With the exception of the children, the line-up was the same
as in the original production: Joan Rodgers was very fine as
the Governess, full of naive expectation upon arriving at Bly, only
to find herself caught up in the unfolding horror; Jane Henschel
as a matronly Mrs Grose, all bustle, and apparently impervious to the
growing catastrophe around her; and the ghostly apparition of Miss Jessel,
a wonderfully menacing performance by Vivien Tierney, enticing
Flora to come to the dark other-world across the lake. But it is the
two child actors that deserve the most plaudits for what are very taxing
roles, admirably carried out. Normally, when ‘Screw’ is recorded for
disc, Flora is played by an adult soprano (as in the Collins Classics
recording, sadly now deleted, in which Eileen Hulse takes the child
role) but for the stage version, we had the young Caroline Wise,
a mere 12 year old, showing maturity beyond her years as the sister.
As for Miles, Julian Leang, a chorister at St Paul’s Cathedral,
is almost beyond praise, a surprisingly secure voice for a treble line
all too often given to sharpness, and weakness of delivery. As he struggled
with himself and the Ghost, there was no suggestion that the youngster’s
voice was tiring, and his final declamation, ‘Peter Quint, you devil!’
was blood-curdling in the extreme: one hopes to hear more from him in
the future.
Daniel Harding kept a tight rein on proceedings,
in this his first performance at the House, stoking up the pressure
until the final curtain: he certainly has matured since I saw him make
his professional debut with the CBSO in the Suite ‘Miraculous Mandarin’,
under the guidance of Simon Rattle in 1994. I have long been a fan of
the director Deborah Warner’s work on the stage, and the Proms,
where she directed a memorable performance of Honneger’s ‘Jeanne d’Arc
au bucher’ with Fiona Shaw. She did not disappoint on this occasion:
her approach was all shadow, dimly lit, suiting the dark, ghostly mood
of the Opera, and a distinct improvement on recent productions at the
Royal Opera House, which have been all too dire. All in all, a very
enjoyable haunted night out at Covent Garden.
Ben Killeen