Alcina, Royal Opera House
Handel's enchanted island becomes a playground of desire, deception and dazzling theatrical invention
9/16/2026
★★★★☆
When Alcina premiered at Covent Garden in 1735, Handel had a theatrical advantage unavailable to most modern directors: the newly built Theatre Royal possessed sophisticated stage machinery capable of creating the magical transformations demanded by the story. Nearly three centuries later, Richard Jones's production returns magic to the same corner of London through very different means. First staged in 2022 and now revived by Sarah Fahie, it turns Handel's island into a bizarre world of perfume, enormous plants, mobile rooms and former lovers sporting spectacular animal heads.
The concept is gloriously eccentric. Alcina rules through sexual attraction and sorcery, while those arriving to rescue her latest lover, Ruggiero, resemble members of a severe religious sect. Antony McDonald's designs make the conflict immediately visible: sensual excess confronts buttoned-up morality. Rooms roll into view, curtains open onto unexpected environments and Alcina's transformed victims, including a dog, parrot and mandrill, become both servants and scenery-shifters. Lucy Carter's lighting works particular wonders with the vast pleated backdrop, changing an apparently simple surface through washes of saturated colour.
There is tremendous theatrical skill here, but occasionally too much theatre. Jones rarely leaves the stage alone. Characters dash across it, creatures bustle around and another visual joke often arrives before the previous one has settled. Handel's music needs stillness as well as spectacle, and some of its emotional intimacy struggles for oxygen amid such determined inventiveness.
Fortunately, the singing repeatedly pulls attention back to the human drama. Lisette Oropesa, performing despite an announced cold, makes Alcina much more than a glamorous supernatural predator. Her bright, agile soprano retains remarkable security, but it is the gradual exposure of vulnerability beneath Alcina's confidence that makes the performance compelling. As her powers weaken, the glittering ruler becomes increasingly recognisable as a woman terrified of losing the person she loves.
Emily D'Angelo's Ruggiero provides a strong counterpart, negotiating Handel's elaborate writing with impressive control and giving the character genuine presence rather than becoming merely an object fought over by others. Beth Taylor is particularly affecting as Bradamante. Her rich, forceful singing brings emotional seriousness to a production that sometimes prefers wit to vulnerability. Mary Bevan makes an alluring, mercurial Morgana, while Ru Charlesworth gives Oronte both musical precision and flashes of comic frustration. Edward Grint provides authority as Melisso.
Young Thomas Mayes makes an extraordinary impression as Oberto. Surrounded by experienced adult singers, he projects with confidence and creates one of the production's most touching threads through the boy's search for his missing father.
David Bates conducts the Royal Opera orchestra with considerable drive. Handel's rhythms have bite and momentum, and the evening rarely feels its considerable length. At times, however, the orchestral weight works against the delicacy of the vocal writing. Greater transparency would allow some of the quieter emotional details to register more naturally.
The production's finest moments come when spectacle and feeling finally meet. Alcina commanding her extraordinary animal entourage is unforgettable; equally powerful is the transformation of this seemingly invincible woman as her magical world begins to collapse. The visual fantasy then becomes more than decoration: the disappearing illusion mirrors Alcina's own emotional disintegration.
In originality and complexity, this Alcina scores highly. Its storytelling is clear despite the abundance of theatrical business, and the technical execution is formidable. What prevents it from reaching the very highest level is its reluctance to trust silence and simplicity. Sometimes Handel needs considerably less help than Jones is willing to give him.
Nevertheless, this is confident, beautifully sung and frequently spectacular opera, with Oropesa at the centre of an unusually accomplished ensemble. Its magic may occasionally be overworked, but there is more than enough genuine enchantment underneath.
Image credit: Ian Hippolyte
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