Wexford Festival Opera 2025: La Tragédie De Carmen

Sarah Richmond in Carmen. Image Pádraig Grant.

*****

It bears repeating, a pocket opera is not opera minus the boring bits. It's an abridged opera. Like a taster menu. A collection of tapa sized moments of operatic deliciousness to tempt the inexperienced towards a five course meal. A way to introduce the curious to the joys of an opera, and the seasoned to memories of one. Like La Tragédie De Carmen from 1981, script adapted by Peter Brook and Jean-Claude Carrière, with score adapted by Marius Constant. George Bizet's classic opera reframed yet retaining its original passion. Posing something of a problem given it packs more pleasure into its punchy pocket than many a full scale production. Tom Deazley's direction and mezzo-soprano Sarah Richmond reminding you the best gifts often do come in small packages.

Those who take issue with broad gender tropes might find La Tragédie De Carmen's framing a little dated. But dig deeper and tropes are being challenged, evident in a revised, mirrored ending. The opening still very much as it was. Virginal good girl, Micaela, in love with upstanding police officer, Don José, loses him to the tempting femme fatale, Carmen. Cowled like a witch, the devil’s very seductress sits toying with tarot cards. Temptation made flesh in a long, red skirt. Her off one shoulder top revealing a black wing tattooed on her exposed shoulder blade. Long dark hair and ink black choker framing her scheming eyes, dark as sin, yet twice as seductive. Her smile a coquettish smirk marking a woman who knows the power of her allure. The kind of allure that could cause St. Francis to rethink his vocation. A woman whose confidence hides insecurity, whose rage conceals hurt, whose indifference obscures her need to love and be loved in a world of lusting cowards and jealous boys. She’s no saint, but only because Carmen has had to learn to survive. All this, and Richmond hasn’t begun to sing yet. Once Carmen commences her Habanera, you're doomed to love her.

Roisin Walsh in Carmen. Image Pádraig Grant.

Not that other cast members, singing in French, are vocal passengers. Soprano Roisin Walsh’s Micaela and tenor Dafydd Allen’s Don José are equally terrific. Philip Kalmanovitch, Conor Cooper, Vladimir Sima and Jonah Hamilton also strong, adding narrative and emotional depth whether singing or with English dialogue, the latter frequently fun. If the absence of surtitles irks, restricting engagement at the micro level, the whole is never difficult to follow. Lisa Krügel’s costumes and set a triumph of imagination over restriction, lit engagingly by Maksym Diedov. Against which Deazley harmonises movement and energy to perfection, whisking up a storm of understated power.

The eye of which is an irresistible Richmond, whose Carmen infuses tradition with the contemporary. An iconic role, Carmen is not just a voice. She is an attitude, a swagger, a life loving wound singing wide and deep embodied in each note, each burning gaze, each defiant flick of a cigarette. You don’t sing Carmen, you must be Carmen. Convince the audience you could destroy souls, mostly your own. Richmond’s sensual, seductive, soul passionate Carmen a fiery, independent woman in search of a man who can match her in strength and tenderness. Encountered up close in what could also be called a parlour opera, the intimacy of the smaller production deepens the connection. Musical director Rebecca Warren on piano providing musical accompaniment like a silent movie pianist. But La Tragédie De Carmen is never silent. It sings, scorns, longs and cries ‘L’amour’. Rendering you powerless to resist.

La Tragédie De Carmen, by Peter Brook, Jean-Claude Carrière and Marius Constant, adaptation after Carmen by George Bizet with libretto by Meilhac et Halévy, runs at The Jerome Hynes Theatre, National Opera House, as part of Wexford Festival Opera 2025 October 20th, 22nd, 24th, 26th, 28th, 30th, and November 1st.

For more information visit Wexford Festival Opera 2025