John Findon (Bothwell), Alex Otterburn (Stewart), Heidi Stober (Mary) in dress rehearsal of Mary, Queen of Scots; production photos taken on 13th February 2025 at ENO, (c) Ellie Kurttz
Musgrave Mary, Queen of Scots
The Coliseum, English National Opera / Joana Carneiro, 15th & 18th February, 2025
The best things often come in small(er) packages. The run for Thea Musgrave’s Mary, Queen of Scots (1975-7), her fourth operatic work (not counting the tiny children’s mime play, Markus the Miser, of fifteen years earlier), was about as short as it could be—just two nights only, yet arguably was the stand-out event of ENO’s truncated London season. It was certainly the one I was most looking forward to and I attended both performances. Playing to packed houses on both nights, the brevity of the run was regrettable, although arguably the blink-or-miss-it schedule may have prompted people to ensure they did not fall into the latter category. And what a treat they had in store.
Mary, Queen of Scots is not the longest of operas, either, its three acts playing relatively compactly—according to the composer’s website—for 2 action-packed hours and 12 minutes. The libretto, by the composer but based on the unpublished play Moray by Amalia Elguera, the librettist of Musgrave’s earlier opera The Voice of Ariadne (1973), is a much-conflated, indeed simplified, account of events in Mary’s life between 1561, when she returned to Scotland as the widow of the French King Francis II, to 1567 when she was forced to abdicate and fled to England. That said, the plot of the opera is nonetheless complex, focusing on Mary’s relationships with the Earls of Moray (her illegitimate half-brother, James Stewart) and Bothwell, plus her eventual second husband, Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley—acted with delightfully louche élan (Act 1) and dissipation (Act 2), by Rupert Charlesworth.
Heidi Stober (Mary), Rupert Charlesworth (Darnley) in dress rehearsal of Mary, Queen of Scots; production photos taken on 13th February 2025 at ENO, (c) Ellie Kurttz
Alex Otterburn was outstanding as the conniving, besuited James Stewart (this was a modern-dress production), craftily orchestrating events around his half-sister to his own, not her, advantage. John Findon provided a suitably strong (and strongly sung) turn as the direct and unsubtle Bothwell, his physicality in direct contrast to Darnley’s flirtatious charm and Stewart’s subtle guile. Of the supporting cast, Alastair Miles as Lord Gordon (a conflation of several Lords Huntly and others of the time) was the finest, recurring like a voice of conscience at crucial times to influence events, while Ronald Samm stole may of his scenes as Stewart’s follower Ruthven. Star of the show, however, was Heidi Stober in the title role, excellently sung and acted, managing to capture in equal measure Mary’s strength, fragility and unwisdom in her choices, the Queen who would stand alone who is finally left alone by all.
On the podium, Joana Carneiro directed taut performances of Musgrave’s coruscating score, with its hints of folksong and Renaissance dance, taking only three minutes over the composer’s estimate. (Even with curtain calls, I was outside The Coliseum by 21:40 following the 7pm start.) Carneiro’s firm control of pace extended to the orchestral textures, beautifully balanced to support but never overwhelm the singers (Musgrave omits heavy brass, one trombone aside, though the percussionists are frequently busy). As we have heard so often this season, the ENO Orchestra’s playing was as fine as one could wish for, powerful and dramatic for the climactic scenes—particularly at the end of each act—as well as Riccio’s murder in Act 2 and Bothwell’s rape of Mary in Act 3. Then there was the ENO Chorus, in typically fine voice in their tapestry of roles: the Scottish populace, alternately acclaiming and abusing Mary, the Scottish Lords divided between the Earls of Moray and Bothwell, and the henchmen of both.
Director Stewart Laing’s production was the first ENO has mounted (in collaboration with San Francisco Opera) but was not as claimed the London premiere: that occurred in 1980 when Scottish Opera toured it to the capital. The staging was a fairly minimalist affair, not so dissimilar to those of Gloriana and Duke Bluebeard’s Castle in recent seasons. Laing ran the first two acts together (lasting a touch over 95 minutes) with an interval before the roughly 30-minute Third giving this production a slightly unbalanced structure. Its main theatrical conceit—like the long dining table for Bluebeard—was a marquee, slowly erected throughout the course of Acts 1 and 2, a somewhat simplistic metaphor of the progression of Mary’s reign which I thought worked well overall. The apex was reached when she banished Stewart for inciting Riccio’s murder as the final guy ropes were secured in place; in Act 3, it is reduced to a skeletal framework as the flimsiness of her position was laid bare, all security stripped away affording her no protection, as Bothwell ruthlessly demonstrated. The secondary element was the metal railing running along the edge of the stage and past the front boxes, providing an airport-like barrier for those leaving or entering the country, as with Mary early in Act 1, her first entrance as a sunglass-sporting popstar with silver wheelie luggage and entourage looking for her limo never arrives.
All the elements for a splendid night at the opera were in place and, except for one or two who perhaps attended thinking it was Donizetti’s version, ENO delivered in full. If the first performance on the Saturday was unforgettable, the second was blazingly triumphant, overwhelming in impact. At both, the 96-year-old composer was in attendance to take the standing ovation of audience and cast, some 2,400 people paying homage at the Court of an Operatic Queen.
The cast an orchestra acclaim the composer (bottom right) on 18th February 2025, (c) Guy Rickards
Let us hope that ENO will stage Musgrave’s Simón Bolívar (1992) or the recently completed Orlando (2024), based on Virginia Woolf’s novel.