British 
          premières of works by Dvořák 
          do not come along every day, so a warm vote 
          of thanks should first and foremost be extended 
          to University College, London Opera for bringing 
          this work to the public. It is a cliché 
          now to bemoan the lack of interest in Dvořák’s 
          stage work, but it remains true that there 
          is much to explore beyond the confines of 
          Rusalka.
        
        The 
          present opera is based on the story of Wanda, 
          a Polish legend (never let it be said that 
          Dvořák’s 
          horizon’s never extended over his home boundaries 
          – remember Dmitrij 
          extends the 
          Russian story of Boris Godunov). Vanda (in 
          Dvořák’s 
          spelling) has a confidante in her sister Božena, 
          to whom she reveals her misgivings about becoming 
          queen of Poland. Of course there are love 
          interests – on the one hand, Slavoj (who initially 
          believes his love to be hopeless) and on the 
          other Roderich, a German Prince whom Vanda 
          has already twice rebuffed. Act One ends with 
          Vanda being proclaimed Queen, having vowed 
          to give her life for her country, should the 
          need arise.
        
        A husband 
          now has to be chosen for Vanda, and a High 
          Priest announces a contest that consists of 
          three tasks by crossbow, hammer and lance. 
          There are three entrants (Vitimír, 
          Velislav and Všerad), but none succeeds. Slavoj 
          steps into the breech and wins. However, Roderich 
          arrives and tries to bribe Vanda with promises 
          of lands and riches. Roderich is allowed to 
          compete. A duel ensues between Roderich and 
          Slavoj; the latter wins, yet spares Roderich’s 
          life. Roderich bribes a witch to help him 
          in his quest for Vanda – Slavoj once more 
          threatens to kill Roderich and is stopped 
          by Vanda. Roderich, bent on revenge, reappears 
          with his army. Vanda’s oath to her country 
          is now evoked, so she carries her country’s 
          flag into battle. Vanda herself kills Roderich; 
          the Poles beat the Germans. Vanda spends her 
          last hour with Slavoj, appointing him as her 
          successor. She leaps into the waters of the 
          River Vistula. A monument will be erected 
          to Vanda’s memory, the people sing.
        
        An heroic 
          plot, with plenty of scope for the entire 
          operatic gamut of choruses, arias, duets etc. 
          Over the course of several hours (even in 
          this cut version), Dvořák 
          provides a varied and beautiful score with 
          plenty of his characteristic hallmarks (e.g. 
          rustic clarinets in thirds, Czech rhythms; 
          and the overture is almost a Slavonic dance!). 
          There are some strange moments, admittedly. 
          The music for Vanda’s sadness hardly even 
          sounds unhappy, for example. Yet there is 
          much light and shade in the writing, not to 
          mention the necessary pomp for the ‘crowd’ 
          scenes. 
        
        The 
          star was the titular heroine, sung and well-acted 
          by Royal Academy-trained soprano Elaine McKrill. 
          From her biography it appears she has covered 
          a wide variety of Wagnerian roles, even taking 
          part in Adelaide’s first Ring cycles 
          in 1998. Her oath to her country in Act 1 
          was particularly impressive. Yet she could 
          be touching also, as in the closing scenes 
          of the opera.
        
        None 
          of the other singers could really match up 
          to Ms. McKrill, however. The (tenor) part 
          of Slavoj is a difficult one as it requires 
          the projection of ardent youth. Bradley Daley 
          has sang Rodolfo (Bohème) at 
          ENO, as well as taking part in The Silver 
          Tassie and Nixon in China, both 
          also for ENO. He did not seem to have the 
          requisite projection for Slavoj, however, 
          nor did he remotely look the part (he looked 
          as if he would cry like a little boy when 
          Vanda said she was going to leave him). Far 
          more convincing was bass-baritone Paul Keohone’s 
          Roderich. Keohone had the immeasurable advantage 
          that he can actually look ‘hard’, perfect 
          for Roderich’s vengeful, boastful character. 
          As Božena, 
          Kimberly Myers was rather thin of voice, unfortunately, 
          as was Josie Eccles’ Witch. 
        
        Staging 
          was evidently done on a shoe-string, but well-managed 
          for all of that (although I for one remain 
          unconvinced as to Slavoj dressed in a parka 
          in Act 1). The orchestra, presumably a student 
          one, was most exposed in the Overture, and 
          it showed. Alas, the sound lacked depth and 
          ensemble was often scrappy, with compromised 
          tuning. Having said all that, I would not 
          have missed this opportunity for the world. 
          If only a representative of, say ENO, was 
          in the audience, who knows what might happen? 
          
        
        Colin Clarke