Lucia di Lammermoor, Opera Holland Park

Cecilia Stinton’s Lucia di Lammermoor for Opera Holland Park offers a vivid, unsettling and, at times, mesmerising take on Donizetti’s tragic tale of coercion, collapse and bloodshed. The production stands out most for its emotional depth and finely calibrated musical performances, even if some staging choices lacked finesse.

From the outset, Jennifer France commands attention with a Lucia who is not just fragile but also warm, mischievous and deeply human. Her descent into madness is handled with sensitivity and a striking sense of narrative coherence. The infamous Mad Scene, in which she paces the stage clad in a bloodied gown, reaches chilling heights. Her vocal technique, fluid, assured and emotionally nuanced, is nothing short of captivating, even if a couple of the highest notes seemed ever so slightly stretched. France’s ability to layer fragility with haunting intensity gave the performance a magnetic centre.

José de Eça’s Edgardo was rich and ardent, his tenor suffused with Italianate colour. Though a few quieter high notes lacked precision, his chemistry with France created moments of real poignancy, particularly in their Act One duets and his sorrowful farewell aria. Morgan Pearse’s Enrico is chilling in his restraint; no melodramatic villain, but a calculating brother whose ruthless pragmatism makes him all the more menacing. Charlotte Badham as Alisa is a revelation, offering emotional ballast with a touch of irony; her role, often overlooked, added much-needed texture to Lucia’s constrained world.

Musically, the evening was expertly shaped by Michael Papadopoulos, whose conducting coaxed dynamic, breathing phrasing from the City of London Sinfonia. The orchestra’s robust presence in the semi-open acoustic gave the performance an earthy, immersive quality, with the brass adding a raw edge in key dramatic moments. The substitution of the glass harmonica with a flute during the Mad Scene, while expertly played, did rob that moment of some of its eerie uniqueness.

Visually, Neil Irish’s set does well to integrate with the Jacobean structure of Holland House. The dilapidated mansion and lichen-covered graveyard evoke a sense of decay and doom. The recurring apparition of the ghostly bride, drifting silently across the stage, provides an unsettling visual motif, cleverly foreshadowing Lucia’s fate. Lighting by Tim van ’t Hof masterfully underscores the opera’s emotional contrasts, shifting from bright celebrations to the cold hues of death and despair.

However, the production isn’t flawless. At times, chorus movement felt static or overly choreographed, lacking spontaneity. The ‘dad dancing’ during the Act II wedding scene was an odd touch, perhaps intended as a nod to period realism, but more distracting than insightful.

Yet, despite minor flaws, this Lucia succeeds in delivering something that feels both original and rooted in operatic tradition. It combines storytelling complexity with musical competence, and while not radically reinventing the piece, it brings fresh detail and psychological insight. Above all, France’s performance elevates the evening into something memorable. Not quite a once-in-a-lifetime production, but certainly a standout offering in Opera Holland Park’s recent seasons.

Image credit: Opera Holland Park