When Franz Lehar’s Merry Widow premiered in Vienna in 1905 it was an instant hit. Its catchy score had men whistling it in the street. Women of all ages and class, swayed to the Merry Widow Waltz imagining themselves in the arms of the Merry Widow’s dashing romantic lead, Danilo.

Audiences also loved the central character, Hanna Glawari, the racy merry widow. Not only was she beautiful, but rich and sassy, her money giving her the ammunition to flirt on her terms. When Hanna finds true love she recognises it, but even then, she’s no pushover. She can be as stubborn as Danilo and the two resemble Scarlet O’Hara and Rhett Butler in Gone with the wind.

So the plot is sentimental – but it’s a lot more than that. The original version was slightly absurd, a satire of society at the time.

To my mind, The Merry Widow is very much anchored in the early 1900s, the Belle Epoque as it came to be called, a time of relative peace in France and in Austria. People wanted to have fun and this spawned a lot of gaudy glamour. It’s a strange work in some respects – Act one of this operetta is mostly spoken dialogue. We learn that Hanna Glawari, our very merry widow, hails from a fictional Balkan principality called Pontevedro. Pontevedro is bankrupt and the chief of this state wants to use Hanna’s funds to save it from bankruptcy. 

In the Opera Holland Park production I attended (a co-production with Scottish Opera and d’Oyly Carte Opera), John Savournin had transposed the story to New York in the 1950s, to a mafioso setting. It’s the don’s fiftieth birthday party. The cast made a valiant effort with their hammy New York accents and Hanna Glawari had to adopt a Southern accent. In the wise-cracking interchange, the jokes fell flat and the whole thing felt strained and a major distraction.

Act two and three were a remarkable improvement as the singing and the music took over. All was forgiven and forgotten as time wore on. The sets were magnificent -the Italian Villa with its lemon trees – and Maxim’s, with its glittering crimson art nouveau set, brought us back to the heart of Lehár’s retro vision.

Alex Otterburn as Danilo was entirely convincing as the wary lover, his caressing tenor, broke through like molten gold in later scenes. It reminded me how little I had seen Otterburn on the London stage recently and how much I appreciated his artistry. The chemistry between Otterburn and Paula Sides worked, their coming to the front of stage in their final rapprochement, sensitively handled. Sides had an effortless, versatile soprano, but at times, on the upper stage, she was drowned out by the orchestra. The orchestra was by the way excellent. (Scottish Opera orchestra has taken over City of London Sinfonia). However, Paul Sides’s all important Vilja aria however was terrific! 

Rhian Lois, as Valentina, put in a memorable performance as wife of the mafia don, Henry Waddington who played the part with aplomb. It was his wife, sporting a Marilyn Monroe wig and make up, who impressed with her ability to appear at once, coarse and beautifully tragic in her vocals – her duet with William Morgan as Camille de Rosillon was entrancing..

Merry Widow is both operetta and opera and this makes this a compelling piece. And there were genuine comic moments – the dead corpse  dancing in the chorus line up – was totally irreverent and genuinely funny.

KH

The Merry Widow continues at Opera Holland Park  June 25^th, 27, 28 at 7.30pm