Carmen, opera review: Close-up and personal with Bizet

Since 2009 London’s operatic life has been enriched by OperaUpClose’s stagings in tiny North London pub theatres. Now it has left the bar-room ambience behind, will it be able to maintain the in-your-face impudence that has worked so well thus far? Its pub productions made you feel almost part of the action; in the Soho Theatre you are definitely a spectator.

Still, Robin Norton-Hale’s production of Bizet’s Carmen (sung in her own translation) hits home. She strips the opera to the bone, ditching most of the spoken dialogue and the chorus. The results are mostly credible; so is Harry Blake’s reduced orchestra (just violin, cello, flute, piano). Of course some of the power and beauty goes missing, but there are some magical moments, notably for the flute.

Norton-Hale retains the Spanish setting, but makes the opera a modern feminist fable. The men aren’t entirely convincing, although as spurned lover Jose realises he is losing Carmen his lurch towards violence is brutally convincing. But the opera is called Carmen for a reason. The length of the run requires two singers alternate in most roles. Last night’s Carmen, Flora McIntosh, delivered the kind of perceptive portrait rarely possible in traditional opera houses. That’s precisely what OperaUpClose is for.