The Cunning Little Vixen

Chris O'Rourke
4 minutes ago
4 min read

Amber Norelai (Sharp Ears) in INO's The Cunning Little Vixen. Image, Ruth Medjber

***

From Aesop’s Fables to Watership Down, anthropomorphic allegories continue to enjoy universal appeal. A big word to describe little stories in which animals display human characteristics. Usually with a moral, and frequently with a dark side. If Beatrix Potter, Wind in the Willows and Walt Disney sanitised nature’s blood torn bodies, Leoš Janáček’s 1924 opera The Cunning Little Vixen reflects nature’s uncompromising cruelty. Making for an ambitious opera posing several problems for an easily traumatised, visually literate, feminist 21st century. Problems never satisfactorily resolved in Irish National Opera’s current production.

James Platt (Priest), Oisín Ó Dalaigh (Pasek), Benjamin Russell (Forester) Heather Sammon (Mrs. Pásek) & William Pearson (Schoolmaster) in INO's The Cunning Little Vixen. Image, Ruth Medjber

Inspired by a comic strip novella by Rudolf Těsnohlídek, Janáček’s libretto over three acts describes the tale of Sharp Ears, the eponymous vixen. Her capture, imprisonment, escape, discovery of love, idyllic family and Bambi-like legacy. Animals a distinction without a difference when it comes to humans. Both vain, cruel, manipulative and caring in their respective worlds. A disharmony of opposites Janáček tips into feel-good schmaltz which, like a terrified chicken, is never going to fly. Foxes will do as foxes naturally do, no matter how glorious the new dawn. The end as much a tagged on convenience as an organic awareness of the circle of life, undermining Sharp Ear's final scene.

Megan O'Neill (Pepík), Oryna Veselovska (Forester’s Wife) , Amber Norelai (Sharp Ears) Caroline Behan (Frantík) & Benjamin Russell (Forester) in INO's The Cunning Little Vixen. Image, Ruth Medjber

Under Sophie Motley’s direction, visual, vocal and musical elements are rarely in accord. Like three trains running on parallel tracks, one is always edging ahead while the others try keep pace. The result less a working marriage so much as a competitive ménage à trios. A race in which music takes the gold by some distance. Janáček’s score more a symphony, or a cinema soundtrack, built on concise, expressive musical economy. Conductor Charlotte Corderoy superbly marshalling Irish National Opera Orchestra, pared back to a touring thirteen. Evocatively releasing the controlled, radiant energy of Janáček’s sprightly music, summoning up its richness of emotion. Meanwhile, silver goes to singing, featuring cameos from several promising young talents. Leaning into accentuating key notes, phrasing often feels pedestrian for lacking a richer coloratura. Janáček’s opera imposing restrictions which sopranos Amber Norelai as Sharp Ears, and Jade Phoenix as Gold Spur, along with baritone Benjamin Russell as The Forester negotiate with surges of grace. Sharp Ear’s seduction, and The Forester’s final soliloquy finding music and singing welding together beautifully. The wedding and bar scenes proving less satisfying. The decision to sing in English rather than Czech creating a further disconnect between music and lyrics, being a rhythmic gauze placed between the two.

Amber Norelai (Sharp Ears) and Jade Phoenix (Gold Spur) in INO's The Cunning Little Vixen. Image, Ruth Medjber

Taking the bronze for broad strokes, comic book, back to basics staging, Motley’s direction rarely rises above the basics. Maree Kearn’s series of sliding panels functional yet forgettable. Similarly Neil O'Driscoll's silhouette projections, often running past like a view from a train. Both evoking a 1970s children’s program. Sarah Jane Shiels’ lights working wonders at injecting vibrancy, tension and atmosphere, inking key scenes to perfection. Even as Saileóg O'Halloran's costumes can't seem to make up their mind. Whilst the period attire of humans looks authentic, animals evoke kindergarten kitsch, suggesting a DIY, early years school musical. A mutilated Muppet, clucking Carmen Mirandas, even orange coated vixens seem cobbled together from discarded leftovers of whatever colourful paraphernalia happened to be lying around. Action further hindered by a plodding pace that drags behind Janáček's vibrant music, along with lengthy, lifeless transitions. Choreographer Emily Terndrup having an easy day at the office. Granted, humans playing animals is tricky. But adults mimicking creatures like enthusiastic spirit animals is rarely a good look, and should be banned for anyone above the age of seven. Staging not helped by an accompanying publication by MTU students (part of INO's Open Foyer Series) capturing the comic book verve the production aspires to but rarely attains. Several onstage images, like comic book panels, frequently less staid than onstage action. Looking designed for young children, INO’s The Cunning Little Vixen only succeeds in reminding you this is not an opera designed for young children.

INO's The Cunning Little Vixen. Image, Ruth Medjber

The Cunning Little Vixen, seen here at the warm and welcoming Siamsa Tíre, explores life, death, renewal and rebirth. The relationship between animals and humanity. Shows intrigue with socialism, anti-capitalism and ecology. Yet, contemporary as all that is, everything is weighted by Janáček’s misogyny in its unvarnished, unchallenged dominance. Complications in his private life, his insatiable loathings and longings for women, seen here disdaining every woman represented on stage at some level. The Cunning Little Vixen looking not so clever after all. Still, if it falls short on several fronts, The Cunning Little Vixen is speckled throughout with charm, humour and an abundance of heart. Along with Janáček's spry and sensuous score.