The Flying Dutchman at Opera Holland Park

Opera Holland Park’s first foray into Wagner with The Flying Dutchman is ambitious, often compelling, and at times frustratingly uneven. Directed by Julia Burbach, this production leans into psychological horror, blending ghostly atmosphere with maritime grit – and a very real tempest from the Kensington sky, whose howling winds only deepened the stormy setting.

Musically, the evening is frequently a triumph. Paul Carey Jones anchors the cast with a brooding, emotionally complex Dutchman. His rich bass-baritone carries both weight and nuance, especially in his duet with Eleanor Dennis’s Senta, whose luminous soprano grows in intensity as the opera progresses. Dennis’s portrayal, central to Burbach’s vision, is that of a visionary dreamer rather than a traditional heroine – her finest moments come when she breaks free of the awkwardly slanted set and sings from the front of the stage. Robert Winslade Anderson’s Daland is vocally warm but dramatically underpowered, while Neal Cooper brings a volatile energy to Erik, mixing menace and tenderness to unsettling effect. Colin Judson’s Steersman is a welcome lyrical presence, and the chorus, with its bolstered male forces, delivers with muscular vigour and chilling ghostliness.

Peter Selwyn draws a taut and vibrant sound from the reduced forces of the City of London Sinfonia, particularly in the storm-lashed overture and the rousing choral climaxes. While the strings can sound a little thin in the space, the overall effect is evocative, if occasionally undercut by strange scoring decisions and an anticlimactic close.

Naomi Dawson’s set, dominated by a sharply angled gantry, is visually arresting but practically limiting. It attempts to capture both the Dutchman’s ship and Senta’s inner world, but the symbolism feels heavy-handed and leaves scant room for dynamic staging. Movement is constant, sometimes too much so, with spectral figures and sailors crowding the space. While there are clever moments, such as ropes snaking down the aisles and the ghostly chorus moving through the audience, the sheer busyness occasionally detracts from clarity.

What impresses most is the production’s atmospheric cohesion: the interplay of lighting, live weather, and music creates a vividly haunted world. However, the storytelling sometimes buckles under the conceptual weight. The sense of redemption at the heart of the opera is left vague, and key relationships lack emotional punch.

This is a bold, intelligent take on Wagner, rich in metaphor but not always theatrically satisfying. Enthusiasts will find much to admire; newcomers may leave intrigued but unmoved.

Image credit: Opera Holland Park