The Rape of Lucretia, HGO

★★★★☆

First performed in 1946, Benjamin Britten’s 'The Rape of Lucretia' is one of his most concentrated and morally complex operas. Written for a small cast and chamber ensemble, it strips everything back, asking performers to carry the full emotional and psychological weight of the story. HGO’s new production at Jackson’s Lane embraces that intimacy, offering a staging that feels immediate, thoughtful and quietly powerful.

The most distinctive feature is the use of space. With no raised stage, the action unfolds right in front of the audience, creating a sense of closeness that suits the piece well. The orchestra, placed to one side, becomes part of the visual world rather than something hidden away. The set itself is minimal, built around a multi-level scaffolding structure, but it is the lighting that truly defines the atmosphere. Strong side-light leaves faces half in shadow, giving every scene a sense of unease and moral ambiguity. It is a simple but highly effective idea that runs consistently through the production.

Musically, the evening is in very safe hands. Oliver Cope draws a finely detailed performance from the small ensemble, allowing Britten’s score to sound both delicate and richly textured. The balance between voices and instruments is well judged, and the church acoustics are used to full advantage. Emma Roberts is exceptional as Lucretia. Her voice carries warmth and control, and she charts the character’s journey with quiet authority, making her final moments deeply moving. Stephen Whitford brings intensity to Tarquinius, while Daniel Gray Bell and Olivia Rose Tringham provide strong narrative framing as the Male and Female Chorus. The ensemble as a whole feels cohesive and committed.

There are several ‘magic moments’ where everything aligns. The still, almost suspended quality of Lucretia’s early scenes, the interplay of light and shadow, and the close connection between performers and audience create a sense of shared tension that is hard to shake.

The production’s handling of the opera’s most difficult scenes is notably restrained. Rather than presenting them in a direct or graphic way, it chooses suggestion over explicitness. While this softens the immediate shock, it also creates space for the music to carry the emotional weight, which proves effective in a more reflective way.

What impresses most is the production’s clarity and confidence. It is original without feeling forced, and every element works towards the same vision. It may not aim for overwhelming impact, but it achieves something more sustained and quietly affecting.

Image credit: Laurent Compagnon